Bureau of Collections || ONC2021

Collections

Fingers interlocked, stretching out to crack dainty knuckles as her determined grey eyes looked up to the clock above the bustling workers of level forty two at the Bureau of Collections. Ready and prompt as usual, Death Clerk 404 had timed the start of her shift precisely.

Focused, she logged into her console, the familiar animated icon of justice balancing her scales appearing on the screen before the service portal loaded, work orders already flowing into her inbox in neat organised rows based on her advanced search patameters, ready to deploy her collector on the most efficient route possible.

With a warm smile, she lifted her headset and placed it on her head, careful not to disrupt her neatly styled bob as she brought down the microphone which connected her to her collection agent, the hands and feet of the operation.

"Good Morning 221, are you en route to 808A006IN?" She paused, waiting for a response, letting out a curt huff when only silence returned, "221, I know you can hear me."

Smacking lips and licking fingers suddenly invaded her eardrums as he came online. "One sec- mmm, the doughnuts are so good on the corner of George and Anne St."

What? That was not where he was supposed to be! She hunched low to her desk, lowering her voice, "221, I swear on death herself if you ruin our twenty percent above standard margin I will throttle you!" she hissed frantically, unable to stop a shriek or two escaping in her frustration. "I have a refined system and I am well aware where your deviations lead-" She stopped herself. Now was not the time for arguments, or rumours for that matter, their statistics were at stake.

He chuckled coolly. "Oh relax, you tightly wound lifer. I'm shaking it up this morning. 808A002YU is due in five, lets get her outta dodge before we deal with the easy 808A02X1N. Sure we lose a minute or two but no harm, no foul. I got a feeling this one will be traumatic and will require a little more skill to catch before transition."

She sat back up, rubbing her neatly manicured fingers across her brow. Why did they have to assign her to him this year? Another century of it was going to be a nightmare.

But the superiors had forced her at her most recent partner exchange. She was the only one who could handle him, they said. You are our best 404, if you can't handle him or we are going to have to reassign him again. She knew what that meant, everyone did. She didn't even know why they called it reassignment. There was only one place to go at this level. The aptly named Bureau of Decommissions. The staff known as Voiders.

It was a soul sucking job for the unfortunate among them who migrated down from department to department seeking their purpose and never finding it. It still made her shake. She'd overheard the Death Supreme once call it the place their kind go to die.

As much as 221 agitated her, no one deserved to be reassigned to that place that was not made for it. It was rare, but everyone knew how close 221 was from that fate and her better nature did not want that.

"Fine. I'll rearrange the schedule. One moment." she sighed, busying herself as she quickly re-prioritised her list, shifting 808A002YU to the top, the other work orders reshuffling into a more efficient route for collection, the final estimated quota still within limits - just. She drilled into the souls file. She could tell by the number this was one of the less recycled souls. The 808A batch was a vibrant bunch in her experience. Odd that 221 would mention this one would be tricky.

"Are you sure this one will be difficult? Looks like a fairly stock standard life here."

"Ah, but you have not been here watching her all morning while I waited for you to come online" he responded. "Check her relationships, this one's stressed out of her mind. Mother died last month, absent husband who she fought over text with this morning and a kid not adjusting to a new school - and she's late for work."