Until Death Do We Part

Chapter One

I watched as her chest rose and fell, slower than the last few breaths. Her aura was dulling, the once bright blue fading with each passing breath. Her time was over soon. I sat by her side, her hand in mine as I watched her eyes find mine.
"Ah, Mary, you've finally come." She whispered, gripping my hand. I nodded, forcing a smile. "It's nice seeing you, mom." This was the hard part, staying in character.
The older woman smiled, her demeanor relaxed now. "I'm so glad you're here Mary, I've missed you, it's so lonely here." Tears began to slip from her eyes, trickling down her aged face. I stroked her white hair, comforting her. Her aura had come to a soft fade, almost completely gone. "Just relax," I whispered, standing up. "It's time." The woman nodded, closing her eyes. I shut mine as well, focusing on our breaths. I tuned into her vibrations, her emotions colliding with mine. I was immediately filled with worry, and anticipation. I hated that part. I removed my heavy black cloak, covering her frail body. This would aid in her relaxation, my cloak weaving in its own aura to hers.
I focused harder, imagining my emotions as a smoke, filling our lungs, our bodies and minds. Her breathing slowed even more, and I knew she was leaving. I held her hand as she sighed, relief flooding us both. Silence filled the empty room. I had done my job.

I stood, gently picking my cloak from her empty form, covering myself once more. She was released, and I needed to go to my next client. My hands grew cold, separated from her body heat. I couldn't regulate any heat myself, that's a mortal trait. I was not mortal. My name was Lamia, and my job was to guide people to the After Life. I go to people who are destined to be released alone, and I comfort them in their last days. I mimic the appearance of a loved one, or whatever form will make them most comfortable. I had been with the older woman only a few minutes, and sometimes that's just how it is. I can't help everyone, though it would be ideal.
I winced as my arm burned, I needed to head home. I closed my eyes, imagining my room. I imagined my bed, stripped of its sheets and pillows. I groaned, the Headmaster had removed them. I focused harder, the room starting to sway, making me dizzy. And with a small twing- I was home.
I glanced around the room, my temper rising. My sheets were gone, along with all my pillows. I cursed, looking around the room. Someone had obviously tampered with my things, poking their nose in places where it doesn't belong. Thankfully my chimes were still hung, my most prized possession. Even though I couldn't hear its songs, I still enjoyed its presence. I rushed towards my trunk at the end of my bed, opening it. I sighed with relief to seeI my mortal gifts still tightly packed inside.
Silas had taken my sheets, and my pillows. I shut the trunk, carefully so as to not damage its contents. "Silas!" I shouted, storming out my room. I yanked open my door, almost taking it off its hinges. I forget my own strength sometimes. I could hear his squeaks, his panic confirming my beliefs. "Give me back my sheets!" I glanced down the hall, over at his desk. He stood, sweat beaming his forehead. His nerves made it obvious he was guilty.
"Give them back!" I reamed, making my way towards the shriveling man. Just looking at him annoyed me. He had slicked back hair, his black curls pinned to his forehead. His tux fitted neatly onto his small frame, giving the impression of an uptight man. He was the only reaper here who refused to wear a calming cloak, the mortals are lucky he isn't practicing anymore. The reaper shook as he tried to speak. "Y-you don't ne-need them. Sleeping is for mortals." He wobbled out, refusing to meet my gaze. I rolled my eyes, tucking my cloak closer to my thin, feminine figure. I was cold again, now that I had calmed down. It seemed to me I was always cold, and most reapers are. At least the ones I talked to. I didn't have many friends here in the silent realm, it was heavily frowned upon, being seen as a distraction from our ever demanding jobs.
My long black hair had drooped out from the hood of my cloak, and I tucked it back as I reprimanded Silas. "I like sleeping, Silas. But it's uncomfortable without the sheets." He grimaced, making the dumbest face I had ever seen. Bending down behind his desk he began muttering. "I'm still confused with your obsession, humans are mortals," He handed me my now wrinkled sheets. "We're everlasting Reapers we-" I snatched the sheets, turning away from him mid ramble. I didn't have time for his opinion, mostly because I didn't ask. He came off extremely entitled, and it annoyed most of the reapers who had the misfortune of working under him. God, he pisses me off. I paced back to my room. I don't owe him any explanation for my personal hobbies. They're personal for a reason.