Once More

Once More

By A.G. Porter

I died. I can't recall how, but I know it happened. I thought I would awake in heaven. I thought wrong. I wasn't bad, but I wasn't good either. Heaven did not await me. No, I was destined to work. My job was to collect the souls of the recently departed and guide them to the prize that I would never claim, the final end.

That was years ago. So long ago that it was hard for me to remember anything other than being a Reaper. I wasn't Death, mind you, that was something...else entirely. Death was the one who delivered the kiss and we were the ones who cleaned up the mess.

From the moment I opened my eyes; I worked for Death. He came strolling into my afterlife like a hurricane. He wasn't what I was expecting at all. Sure, he was a he. Not that I thought Death would be a woman, but I also didn't think he'd be a man. But, a man he was.

He was an intimidating creature. The beast stood half a foot taller than my 6'4 frame. Though slender, his form was anything but skinny or frail. He towered over me, lean and muscular. I was surprised to find him so humanlike, but one look at in his eyes and I knew his face was the only human thing about him.

"You Reapers see me in a way you can comprehend," he explained as I took him in.

"Reaper?" I questioned.

"Yes, you work for me now, Darius," he answered.

"I don't understand," I grabbed the sides of my head. "I thought I would be..."

"In heaven?" he laughed. "What have you done with your life that makes you think you deserve paradise?"

He was right. I had no ties, no desires; I had lived a meaningless life.

"You reap or you burn," he stated and when I didn't respond he continued. "For your first assignment..."

And the rest is history. I've been doing this for a very long time and not once has it made me feel...anything. Death is messy and beautiful and tragic, yet every time I see it I feel nothing. If anything, I feel drained and anxious at the same time. As if all these years are supposed to reveal something to me.

Every day, I wait and every day, nothing.

We do not sleep. We do not eat. We reap.

I walk the earth as a man. I look the way I always have, dark skin, gray eyes, and jet-black hair. My build has always been broad and trim. People can see me, especially those closer to death than they realize. Through no fault of my own, I'm greeted with stares of dread. For just the briefest of moments, they know why they've seen me. It's only fleeting. As soon as they look away, I'm forgotten.

"I've never seen you before," a soft voice said next to me.

"Excuse me?" I turned and looked at the brunette girl.

"I've never seen you before," she repeated with a smile. "I take this train every day, for work, I've seen every face a thousand times. I've never seen yours."

Mackenzie Amber Tomlin, one the souls I would collect today. Her time was up, just like the rest of them. I looked around the train. They could all see me. 300 souls on this route and all 300 would soon be taken to the other side.

"I'm Mack," she shook my hand. "Wow, your hands are so cold."

I've had to take large groups of souls before and none of them had ever approached me. For some reason, the natural ominous vibes I gave off didn't affect Mack at all.