The Story of Zandry the Reaper

*Bonus Chapter*

I know this is the first time I've looked at this in about over 2 years, but I had an idea and I wanted to get in some writing practice!

-Kaldaki

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Zandry Stapleton leaned pressed her back against the planks of a London park bench as she gazed at her surroundings. The park was filled with locals and tourists enjoying the lush, green trees that shaded the sidewalk, rustling in the gentle breeze. Zandry found that the older she got, the more appreciative she was of summer afternoons like this.

The year was 1986. Fashion had taken a bolder turn in her home country, so Zandry was finally able to to visit the world of humans in her own casual attire. She still turned heads with her sour green hair and black clothing, but most passed her off as an attention-seeking college student. She took her leisure on Earth far more often after it reached a more modern age, sometimes preferring the smell of flora over that of the pure metropolis she called home. She closed her eyes, humming a hit song that was popular among reapers at the time.

"Excuse me?"

Zandry started and met the eyes of another's, all but identical to her own. The reaper was young, she could tell. It was impossible to tell his age by his anatomy, but perched on the bridge of his nose were the standard-issue spectacles issued out to all fresh shinigami before they ordered custom pairs. If that were not enough, she noticed a nondescript sickle, poorly hidden under his jacket.

"Hello." she said calmly. She had gotten much milder with age. Much wiser.

"Are... are you Zandry Stapleton? Zandry the demonslayer?"

"I am." She anwered. "And who might you be?"

"Uh- Alex, ma'am. Alex Harvey."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Harvey." He had a heavy Australian accent, and an even heavier dosage of freckles."

"Yes, you too, ma'am." Zandry no longer bothered with convincing admirers they need not be so formal. "Um... may I ask you a question? It's kind of personal, but I've been wondering for quite a while, and..."

She gestured towards the empty space on the bench beside her. "Have a seat, Mr. Harvey." After he situated himself, she asked what it was he desired to know.

"Well, I was wondering... well since you've been around for so long, and have done so much... what was the worst? I mean, the hardest thing, or challenge you've faced?"

"Hiroshima." Zandry answered without hesitation.

"Really?" the younger demi-god gasped. "You... it wasn't the demon, then? When you had to save your friend?"

She smirked. "That may be the story I'm known for, but you must understand how that occurrence was so arbitrary in the grand sceme of things. Yes, it was terrifying at the time, but Hiroshima meant so much more, was so much more significant than anything else we have faced as a corporation." He seemed confused, so she went on. "Let me start over. It was August 6th, 1945. Not too far past the 100th anniversary of my rebirth as a Reaper, actually. World War II was a hard time for all of us. Even Grell wasn't cheerful anymore. We had next to no time for leisure, lest we planned to keep those poor, tortured souls in limbo for lifetimes to come. If we weren't on the field, we were at the office, filling out paperwork. Even I did, even though I was the CEO by then. We could spare no one.

"That's where I was at the time: filling out paperwork. You know how it is, when something happens and you can remember each detail of the moment perfectly. I had brought some home with me and had it sitting on the coffee table while bubbled in record after record on the couch, waiting for my husband so we could eat. That was the only time we talked for quite some time. Well, he burst in the room a little later than I expected him, without any food.

"'You need to get back to the office.' he gasped.

"I could tell something went horribly wrong, so I left immediately. I called Will on the way to tell him to meet me at the office, but he already knew, and had gathered every other reaper in a top position who wasn't on the field. The war had already ended on the European front, so my first theory on the way down was that the fighting had somehow started up again, despite Hitler's demise. I remember worrying about how many souls we'd have to collect, and what could possibly be worse than the destruction and cruelty we had seen already.

"Well, when I got there, Will had already organized everything, but he was as pale as a sheet. He had brought Grell with him, which he wasn't supposed to do, but I suppose he needed the comfort. Despite all the years that I've known him, that is the only time I've seen Grell at a complete loss for words. I immediately demanded a brief summary, and Will handed me a ream of blank paper. At first I was confused, but he explained that there had previously been names on all of that paper, but the words had dissapreared. Vaporized, just like their souls. I couldn't comprehend it. We had never seen a weapon that could cause that much damage before. At first I assumed it was firebombs, but our chief recordkeeper informed us that the souls were compromised within miliseconds, which couldn't have been done with the technology we were aware of. All of the souls were located in the Japanese town of Hiroshima. 

"We split up then. I kept a few officials at headquarters to keep order, sent some to investigate in America, which was almost assuredly the source of the attack, and I took Grell and Will to examine the scene. When we arrived, the city was gone. Completely. It was incredibly spooky, standing there, especially since we could feel a strong disturbance in the air. We were sent more death records on the outskirts of Hiroshima, so when we went to collect those souls, we observed strange burns on them. I had an impression that they were somehow hit by a strong sunbeam. By the next morning, we found American reports of the successful dropping of an atomic bomb. Not even a week later, the second was dropped, blasting tens of thousands of addiional souls into oblivion. Japan surrendered, and just like that, the war was over.

That, by far, was the most horrifying, awestriking, psychologically disturbing challenge I've ever had to face. Granted, our imput was quite little, besides that of keeping the rest of the reapers calm. See, the job can be stressful for some, but most employees take solace in the fact that the people we kill aren't truly dying, but instead are experiencing a transition into a just and systematic process. This was no longer the case with such an unnatural form of warfare. Many humans assert that the victims are happy in heaven now, but in reality they no longer exist at all. No human should have the ability to do such a thing to another."

The two were quiet for a time. Alex appeared lost in thought, so Zandry was about to lean back and start humming again when he spoke up.

"It all makes sense now."

"Pardon?" Zandry asked.

"Well, I had never understood why you were so well-revered. True, the demon-slaying is an impressive story, but that's not a good reason to put someone in a position of leadership. You truly are an exceptional reaper, Demonslayer. No one couldv'e kept their head like you did. As you said, even the famous Grell Sutcliff was at a loss. You understand the system better than anyone else, and there has been no other CEO as capable as you are. It has truly been an honor, Zandry Stapleton."

The boy got up and continued on his way. Zandry sat in reflection for a moment. As she became older, she found she thought more, about pretty much everything. Perhaps she had reached perfection, or gotten as close as a being such as herself could get. Content, she relaxed against the wooden bench, closed her eyes against the sunlight, and continued to quietly hum to herself.