The end is nigh, making Death a very busy man. And that's too bad because he's kind of stupid. Luckily, he's got Cheron, a deadpan heroine who just so happens to be immortal. Watch as they reap souls, fall in love, and destroy the universe. Then wat...
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Back in the suite's bedroom, Cheron awakes on her right side, facing the nightstand, atop of which is an open bottle of painkillers. She winces then taps her stomach and sighs in relief. Someone bandaged her wounds, albeit ungracefully, as evident by the exacerbated holes around her uniform. Clearly, whoever cared for Cheron did so with a chaste mind. Absolutely none of her charred, repugnant clothes were removed during the process. She giggles and presses the beige comforter to her nose. It smells like fabric softener but is coated with an abysmal amount of Sir's fur. She sneezes.
"Bless you," Oto says from behind her, kneeling over the bed. His voice is muffled from laying his face in the sheets.
"Thanks." Cheron sits up and hugs a dog plushy. "How are you feeling?"
He inhales and tenses so hard that his elbows pull the sheets. His head pops up. "Hey, guess what! While you were sleeping, I finished all the overdue reports, and then I transferred them to the digital library. Can you believe that?" He stands and waves his hands to the computer. "Because I sure as hell can't. I mean, all of them! It'll be so convenient! And you didn't have to bribe me with orange juice!"
"Hm." Cheron scoots toward him.
"I still have to do the newer ones, but most shouldn't take too long considering the simplicity of the recent deaths." Oto opens his phone and scrolls through a list. "Old age, disease, old age, asphyxiation, asphyxiation, suicide, old age, suicide, suicide, suicide, suicide, suicide, suicide, suicide, dehydration, overhydration, suicide, sui— I'll stop. Sorry. Haha... ah. I'm so sorry."
"Oto."
Putting his phone away, he glances around and scurries to open the door. "Look! I cleaned the whole suite!" He gestures into the parlor. "I even mopped the floor. It's glistening, Cherry, glistening. Gosh, I could kiss that floor. Make out with it. Use tongue, even. Meet its parents."
"Oto."
"Wait a sec, you haven't eaten yet, have you? Fret not." He slides into the kitchen and returns with a whole, finely plated, rotisserie chicken. "I made chicken."
"Oto."
"Alright, you got me." He sets the chicken on the work desk. "I didn't make the chicken. One of the bellhops did."
Cheron stands on the bed. "It wasn't your fault, Oto." The two are the same height now.
"It was pretty awkward because, when I got this, I actually passed the soul of the dead creature. He was on his way to the billiards room, but I think he changed his schedule to therapy." He rips a drumstick and hands it to Cheron. "You weren't an ethics major in college, right?"
"Oto, come on."
"I'm sorry, do humans just not eat chicken? I could have sworn..."
"Please, I just want to— No, no, I love chicken." She bites the leg in his hand and chews. "Fankfth.
