“So much to live for?” I chuckle, because this human seems to have a sense of humor. “You have got to be kidding me. You’re a fifty-year old man who’s been living in his seventy-year old mother’s basement. I know about you slowly poisoning her.” The curve of my lips is wicked. “Such a naughty little human. After all that woman has done for you, and you repay her by trying to end her life sooner than she’s supposed to go. You know, I don’t take kindly to people interfering with death. Don’t mess with something you don’t understand.”
“I-I didn’t do anything,” he splutters. “I swear.”
“No?” I cock my head to the side. “Are you telling me you didn’t hit on that sixteen-year old young lady a few houses down either?” I tisk. “Have you no shame? She’s a child, you sick bastard. Do you think you’re some prize cow? Your confidence is off the charts to think a man like you.” I wave my hand in front of him. He’s short and pudgy, hair so thin the rest could blow away with one strong breeze. “Would be so irresistible to be able to land a beautiful young woman of any age, let alone a child.” I sneer.
“I was just being friendly!” His face turns an ugly shade of red.
“I must look at the definition of friendly in my dictionary again. Because last time I checked, I don’t think pedophile waslisted. Neither was showing your pinky sized dick to someone who would rather wash their eyes with bleach, than look at it.”
His nostrils flare and this man has the nerve to look like he’s about to take his shot at trying to cause me bodily harm. Surely, he’s smarter than that, to try anything with a reaper?
No sooner than the thought pops into my head, does he lunge forward, fist lifted, ready to take a swing.
With a snap of my fingers a loud pop rings through the air.
The man stops, lips parting as his eyes fill with horror. It takes his brain a moment to process what's happening to his body before he lets out a sound that I’d like to think is a dying cat mixed with a pig's squeal. All around very unpleasant.
He looks down to the big red blood stain on his pants, a hole right in the middle of where the fabric just seconds ago was covering his penis.
The penis that just went ‘POP’, and exploded.
When you become a spirit, you don’t feel pain. Unless you’re me and feel the need to remind this waste of a human meat sack just how insignificant to the human race he is.
“Oh shut up.” I bark. “It’s not like you had much to lose anyway. You’re being a big baby. Your poor mother is now free of your awful existence.” He continues to squeal like a little piggy, hand clawing at the ground. “Keep trying, but you’re not going to find anything.” I roll my eyes. “Like anything was there to begin with.” I say the last part under my breath.
Collecting souls isn’t normally this… eventful.
“I’ve had enough of this.” I snap my fingers and his screams stop. “Thank Lucifer.” I sigh in relief, enjoying being able to hear myself think. “Come on. Time to take out the trash.”
With another snap of my fingers, we leave the human realm and reappear in Hell.
Souls cry in the distance, giving the space around us an eerie atmosphere.
“Another one for you.” A tall skeleton-like creature steps forward, his body slow and sluggish. He’s a keeper, a demon in charge of sorting souls. “No need to assess this one, throw him in the pit.”
A white soul lightly stained with inky black parts shimmers above my palm. The keeper reaches out, grasps the soul in his hand and turns away.
One soul of the night down, twenty more to go.
Snapping my fingers, I fully intend on bringing myself back top side. However, that’s not where I end up.
“Lucifer.” I address the King of Hell, giving him a nod of respect. “What do I owe this pleasure?"
“Bane, buddy, pal. We need to have a talk.” Lucifer sighs, leaning back in his leather black chair. He places his feet on top of his desk, looking at me with an expression I can’t quite make out.
“Of course.” I nod again. What would he want to talk to me about? Have I done something wrong? Nothing has changed with the way I do things for hundreds of years.
Onyx. He knows. Of course he knows. He knows everything.
Holding my chin high, I stand with my hands behind my back, my long black cloak bellowing at my feet.
“I like you. You’re the best reaper in the game. My favorite you could say.” He starts.
I preen with pride, because that is a big compliment. I take my job seriously and for him to notice means I’m excelling.
“Thank you, My Lord.”
“That being said, in the past three weeks you’ve collected three thousand souls.”
