The Story of Zandry the Reaper

Chapter 7

(Author's note: Thank you all for reading! Now the story's going to settle into individual, epsode-like chapters for a while, like a tv show. This is Zandry's first real assignment. Let me know what you think:) )

Chapter 7

               The remainder of Zandry’s training went by in a similar fashion. Since Will only gave her his easier targets, she began to see the killings as rather dull, but not as much as the mountains of paperwork that followed them. After the three months were up, Zandry finally received her license declaring her a full-fledged Shinigami.

                Her first assignment arrived in her office that afternoon via fax machine.

                “Good luck, Zandry!” Grell cheered.

                “Don’t need it.” & she walked out the door.

According to the fax, Sarah Eckles was a 20 year old girl who worked in a factory near Liverpool. She was scheduled to die at 10:30 that night. Zandry grinned eagerly.

2 hours later, Zandry was perched on the roof of a large stone building. It took her a while to find the right factory, but now she was there, she had no idea how to get in unnoticed. With her green hair and contemporary clothing, she would stick out like a sore thumb. However, after a short while, a woman walked out the front doors below her carrying an empty bucket. Zandry leapt down the 3-story building and landed directly behind her. Before the woman could react, the Reaper’s boot had connected with her temple and she was knocked unconscious. She quickly dragged the girl into the factory’s shadow and donned her plain dress, apron, and bonnet. She walked inside and was immediately met with a slap in the face.

“Useless hag! Why is this bucket empty?! I told you to get more water!!” a large man bellowed in Zandry’s face.

“S-sorry, my mistake.” Zandry pretended to rush back outside in fear and filled the bucket from a nearby stream. Resisting the urge to pull out her sickle and slay the man on the spot, she returned to the entrance.

The Boss swiped the bucket. “Stupid wench.”

Zandry immediately began to hunt for Sarah Eckles. She searched, face after face, loom after loom. As time ticked by, she became increasingly worried. What if she couldn’t find her? No, she can’t mess up her very first job…

She finally located her target on the third floor of the factory. Sarah was working quietly at her loom. Zandry blinked in confustion. She checked her watch. 10:28. She stalled, pretending to be busy.

What the hell? She looks completely fine! What do I do? Should I kill her? Or should I wait for something to-

Her question was answered. Without warning, Sarah’s loom suddenly caught fire. One of the girls was smoking a pipe, and a stray ember turned Sarah’s station, along with herself, into a raging inferno. As everyone began to scream and flee the floor, Zandry watched her victim writhe and squeal in pain. She discreetly pulled out her scythe and flung it into the burning mass.

Sarah Eckles, like hundreds of other women, was born in the muddy streets of Liverpool. She lived in a small space with her mother and father, who wanted nothing from her except for labor. When she was 9, she was forced to work at a factory to make money for her parents, and ended up staying there, doing the exact same job every day for eleven years. She had always wanted, more than anything, to rise above the filth she was raised in and become something greater, to be a part of something bigger. And with a flash of color and a sudden, intense pain, her dream was lost forever.

Zandry fell back onto the floor, shocked. She was no longer looking at a target; she was looking at a mirror. As she stared at the blazing woman in front of her, she felt, just for a moment, a strong urge to help her, to give her the same opportunity Grell had given her so few months ago. But she knew it was too late. The burns had already covered her entire body; to bring her back to life now would be pointless. With a heavy heart, Zandry pulled herself up and separated the cinematic record from Sarah’s smoldering chest before disappearing into the smoke.