Soma One-Shots ||slowish updates||

A Reaper's Job

Soul smirked as he carelessly used his scythe to take a life. It was no big deal, just some 90 year old man who's time was up. It was the job of any Reaper to obtain the soul of any person that Lord Death assigned to his recruits. He took hold of the blue soul in his hand as the old man's body unraveled. The white haired albino slowly used his soul-wavelength to morph the scythe blade until it resembled his own skin. It slithered onto his arm and attached itself. Soul turned the glowing sphere around in his hand, as if he was inspecting it for tints of red. Finding none, he stowed it in his pocket before quickly phasing into the shadows being cast by the night.

When he had opened his eyes, he found himself in his DWMA dorm. Moonlight washed the whole room with sleep. His eyes felt heavy as he trudged over to his unmade bed and plopped down onto it. Not even bothering to change clothes, he fell asleep.

Sunlight filtered through his blinds and rested on his eye lids. He moaned groggily while rubbing the sleep from them. The boy glanced at the clock and moaned again before letting himself fall back to his bed.

"I'm already late..." he muttered.

After a considerable amount to time, he finally managed to detach himself from the warm and inviting covers and blankets. Soul didn't bother to run to his class on the account that it was midday and he just didn't seem to care.

"Will Soul Eater Evans please report to the death room. Soul Eater Evans."

He jammed his pinky into his ear and swirled it around some then removed it and inspected his finger for anything interesting. The announcement over the loudspeaker was not cool and would probably attract too much attention.

Great. Now Black Star is going to be after me about how I was 'taking his spotlight' or whatever.

Glancing down beneath his desk, his feet were covered with shade and he smirked. He closed his eyes and focused on the blackness: inky vessels of transportation. He saw the Death Room behind his eyelids and when he opened them, there he was.

"Soul, you know what I've said about Shadow Travel on school grounds..." Lord Death said with his usual springy voice.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here though aren't I?" He retorted.

"I have another job for you if you think you can handle it."

The temptation was almost too great, "you kiddin'? Give me anything you got."

He chuckled in response before resuming, "take this seriously, Soul...this is a three-star job."

Soul's mouth nearly fell open. Three-star's paid the best, brought the most bounty, and basically put you on the map as a reaper.

Lord Death continued, "there is a girl in a hospital nearby and she has been very sick for a long time. The doctors have only been able to prolong her state of living but were never able to fully cure her. Your job is to let her pass on into the next world."

That's it?! It's so easy even a low-life like Blackstar could do it!

"I'll take it."

"Very well, good luck, Soul."

The grimness in his tone startled Soul a little. It was just doing what he normally did but with a higher title. Wasn't it?

He quickly called upon his scythe and used the shadows in the room to appear at the coordinates specified by Lord Death. His scarlet eyes fluttered open to find himself behind the curtain of a hospital room. He twitched his ears as the dull, monotonous sound of a heart monitor echoed throughout the small room. There was something else too. Almost like the sound of air flow coming out of a straw.