agatha all along

Part 1

Rio's life was death. It was all she had known so there was no sadness in it or despair: it was nothing more than a job. 

However it wasn't as if she was ignorant to the consuming emotions that accompanied death for humans. It was more that she was indifferent to them.

Afterall how could an entity with no one to lose understand the idea of losing someone.

Death was but a spectator to the fickle scuffles of the race unable to comprehend how such a short lived species would be so clumsy with their already finite time. 

Wars,  death sentences , murders.

Death was used to the ever repeating scenes that surrounded the souls she was called to guide. After countless centuries there was nothing that Rio had not seen infinite times.

A field of millions of dead soldiers shattered and unfulfilled, benighted and indoctrinated youth surrounded only by enemies.

A lonely criminal surrounded by hundreds of social powers with twice the corrupted morals as the condemned.

A mother holding the empty container of her child choking between sobs.

Siblings surrounding their mother giving in to her heavy eyelids. Their guide, teacher, nurturer; the sole person responsible for their entire life timing out of their own.

Rio had seen it all.  

The belligerent curses the souls, the family of the souls and every living person had thrown at Rio had the same effect on her as everything else.

It was another part of the job.

Another part of her monotonous life.

With every new soul came a chorus of the same profanities and loathing detestation.

The hatred of such un-unique,  powerless, ignorant existences who's meaningless lives seemed to reiterate generation to generation was completely insignificant to her.

Even commensurate with this Rio had no dislike or hostility for her job. It was just her job.

So just as every day before it, since the beginning, Rio ambled towards the souls of an entire coven of witches.

It was rare for an entire coven of witches to be wiped out but as always nothing new. Covens sometimes got into wars or performed a spell wrong together thus facing the consequences together. There were many scenarios that could lead to these disasters.

So as Rio approached to site she bared little awareness to her surroundings. She began willing the souls from the lifeless confines of their bodies. 

'Goodbye mother'

Rio felt a sudden cold heaviness expand in her core as her eyes widened into an expression she didn't will herself. 

Her head dived to the side as the flung her gaze behind her to a girl leaning on the stake of a pile of  wood.

The sight Rio was so familiar with accompanying the souls of witches was instead holding a soul container more full than she'd ever seen.

The girls eyes solemnly stared at the soul of the old woman before her as the words Rio had heard millions of times withered from her lips in the deadest tone Rio had ever heard.

The girl's eyes then moved towards Rio's own as if she could see her. It was as if they bore into her own soul. It was as if she had a soul that could be bore into in the first place. It was as if this young girl could see the holes where her eyes would reside.

Her gaze was so absolute Rio found it hard to believe she couldn't see her.

Very hard to believe.

Almost impossible to believe.

Impossible to believe.

This girl could see her.

This living girl could see her.

This living girl could see death.

Rio couldn't believe it. She genuinely could not fathom the events unfolding right before her. It was incomprehensible. It was impossible. Rio couldn't believe it.

This had never happened before.