Though I know that their final resting place is far better than what this existence offers, they do not, and their fear is palpable. It tastes like ash on my tongue as I sweep through and do my job.
It takes hours to work our way through this many confused souls, and it’s taxing both physically and emotionally.
Gloom stands beside me, wiping his brow, and lets out a deep sigh.
“You good?” he asks, and I nod.
“You?”
“We have to be, right?” Gloom asks.
My relationship with Gloom is that of a sister and brother. We spend most of our time picking on each other and making jokes. But in moments like this, we push that to the side to really make sure that we’re okay.
Part of me wants to go back to Juliet, hold her, and let this weight slide off of me. But there’s another part that feels guilty over that thought. Why should I burden her with this feeling when I know how heavy it is? Juliet already has her own issues she’s working through; I don’t want to add to them. I only want to be part of the solution.
“Seems like you made quick work of having your cupid spend the night in Purgatory,” Gloom says, changing the subject as we roam the rest of the site, making sure no souls are hiding.
“Yes, and you’ve made no leeway with yours,” I say with an eye roll, and he laughs.
“Well, two bottoms don’t make a top, Mors. Love said it was a miscalculation, and she’s still on the hunt for my dream guy.”
“She’ll find you someone,” I say honestly, and he blinks at me.
“Okay. Is the sex with your cupid that good? Where has Mors with the acidic tongue gone?”
“It has to be the cupids rubbing off on me.” I scoff and wave him off.
Gloom snickers, and I smack him in the chest. A low whimper breaks our attention, and in the rubble, we find a soul cowering and scared.
“I don’t want to go,” she says, her face pinched like she wants to cry. “I’m not ready. I didn’t get to do all the things I wanted to do.”
I crouch down next to her, stroking her invisible hair. This part is so hard, nothing is worse than a soul who’s scared of the afterlife. There’s only so much I can do to help ease their mind.
“What was it you wanted to accomplish in this life?” I ask her softly.
“I didn’t get to go to prom. I never loved anyone. I’m still a virgin, for fuck’s sake.”
“If it helps, I’m a few hundred years old, and I’ve never loved anyone either,” Gloom says.
“That’s not fucking helpful,” I say through my teeth, and he shrugs.
“It’s really not.” The soul sniffles, and Gloom throws his hands up and walks away, like we’re the ones making this difficult.
“This isn’t the end. This is just a new beginning. You can have all of those things in the afterlife.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve been doing this job for a long time. I’m just now starting to get my happiness, but things are much better in the good place.”
“But my mom,” she cries.
“She’ll be there to join you soon enough.”
“This isn’t fair,” she says.
“It’s not.”
The soul blinks at me. I guess expecting me to disagree or talk about how it’s the cycle of life or some shit. But the truth and nitty gritty of the matter is mortal existences aren’t fair. Death is indiscriminate and inevitable.
