Fright

Chapter One

            "Kellen?" The receptionist called my name. I stood and walked over to her. "They're waiting for you in room 3." She ushered me towards a series of numbered doors. Upon entering the room, I saw two men and a woman, all dressed in black suits.

"Hello, Kellen." The woman spoke. "My name is Marissa, head of PNA, Promotions and New Assignments. Please sit." I sat down awkwardly, I wasn't used to confrontation. I shifted in my seat as the three of them stood there watching me.

"Comfortable?" I nodded. "Good. We're assigning you to collections and recruiting. Any new Reapers you recruit are your responsibility. You'll have to train them and answer any questions they may have. If you falsely answer any questions you may be subject to charge. Are you following so far?"

"Yes, I follow." I swallowed the lump in my throat and fixed my posture.

"Good. You will still be required to perform your daily reaping, if you cannot handle the responsibility you will be demoted, and all your recruits will be re-assigned. Still following?" I nodded again, the lump in my throat returned.

"Any and all souls that your recruits fail to claim will be reassigned to you as dead souls the following day. If this occurs more than three times your recruits will be admitted to a psychoanalysis facility. By force if necessary. Any questions?" I sat there a moment, leaned back in my chair and with full confidence I spoke, "When do I start?"

***

A few weeks after my meeting with PNA, I was assigned to recruit a young girl who had broken one of Death's rules. I chuckled, remembering my own recruitment. I'd broken rule 112, a dead or dying soul may not stay in the world of the living for longer than a period of 12 months.

I'd gotten selfish, wanted to spend more time with my family. When the Reapers came to recruit me a year after my death, I refused. I stalled for weeks, until they'd threatened to erase my soul. At that time, I gave in. I agreed to become a Reaper.

And now here I stood, in the empty home of a 19-year-old year old ghost that will have been dead for one full year in 3, 2, "Where the hell is all my stuff?" 1. The girl shouted into her empty apartment.

I smiled, my first recruitment. "Gone. They packed it when you died." I looked her over, completing a visual examination to make sure her soul wasn't rotten. A rotten soul had to be erased, meaning that any memories of them that a living person had, would disappear entirely. As if the soul had never even existed. Lucky for this young woman, her soul was completely intact.

"Who the hell are you? And what do you mean, 'when I died'? I'm clearly not dead." She crossed her arms and scoffed at me. I chuckled under my breath. Did she think I was joking?

"Oh sorry, you're new, aren't you? Let me introduce myself, I'm Kellen. I'm a Grim Reaper." I extended my hand, as a gesture of friendliness, in return I got laughter. When a Reaper introduces themselves, an automatic memory of Reaper existence is given to a soul. To assure that reapings are successful, a soul clearly must know what a Reaper is.

That appeared to not be the case with this one. "A what sorry?" She laughed. How peculiar. "Okay, you know what, just give me back my stuff and let me get on with my day, alright?" Why didn't she believe me? Was there a flaw in the memory bank? Or perhaps she was just stubborn. I frowned in frustration.

"Miss Gloriana Stone, right?" I jumped my clipboard to my hand, confirming that I had the right soul. Jumping is an ability that Reapers can use to transport themselves and their belongings to specific locations, though it uses quite a bit of energy.

"Its Ladell. And if you don't mind, I'm leaving." She turned to leave, though I'm not sure where she planned on going. Her soul is confined to the place that she died, which in this case, was her apartment.

I jumped in front of her, hoping to startle her. She muttered something under her breath. "Please, Ladell. Listen to me. I know this is a lot to take in, but I need you to understand. You died about a year ago. All your belongings were packed and sent to your mother. It says here that you broke Rule 232, avoiding death?" I looked to my clipboard for confirmation.

"This is serious. You're being serious." She looked around at her old apartment. "So why am I here? Why didn't I just die?" I jumped a chair to the corner behind me. I could see this was going to take a while.

"As I said, you broke Rule 232. One may never avoid or tamper with the circumstances of his or her own or another's death. You saw a psychic on Saturday, June 23rd of last year. You died on midnight of Wednesday the 27th of a 'heart attack'. This is our standard cover death. Do you follow?" I looked up from my clipboard.

She looked at my chair and furrowed her brow, then spoke. "Yeah I guess. So, if I hadn't seen that psychic, I would've died in a car accident. Just like that? None of this?" I nodded. "I wish I could turn back time. This is too weird."

I loved the sound of that. I knew what she was going to decide. I smiled. "We can give you that option, if you'd like. However, we are obligated to offer you a choice. Option one, you can turn back time and die a normal death. Option two, you can spend an equivalent amount of time to the life you lived in one of our psychoanalysis facilities. Option three, you can train to become a Grim Reaper. The choice is yours."

I pulled a pen from my jacket and offered it to her. "If I were to choose option three, what would I do? I mean, what is the training?" I smiled. I knew it.

"I'm so glad you asked. You see we're quite often running short on good Reapers. It's like training for a job really. You'll spend a few Reapings with a trainer, which will most likely be me, and he or she will show you what to do. Of course, you will be given a new life, a new face and a new name. Nobody will recognize you."

"Done, I choose option three." She started to walk over to me and I stood, smiling.

"Right then, let's get started." I grabbed onto her arm and jumped her to headquarters where she would receive a new identity. Now, I had to train her.