Hurricane's Oneshots (REQUESTS OPEN!!)

Death: My Characters

TW: mentions child abuse, heartbreak and trauma (no details), mentions religion and afterlife. Talks about my interpretation of souls. Implied death of a child (age 7-8).

I wait in the white for her. The white is a waiting space for souls, the buffer zone. The place to determine their fate. Hindus will be reincanated most of the time, and the Buddists will be too. The Christians go on to their heaven. And for those without belief of afterlife or of Gods, options get complicated.

They can chose to enter a special afterlife Fate and Myself designed. They can chose to be reincanated and live a new life. Or, they can chose to wait.

Those who wait wander the white, most of them waiting on a lover. I know them all by name. I talk to them. After a while the fear fades.

"Dee?" I hear a soft voice call, I looked back to see. Maria's face greets me. She is a small girl, only 7 or 8 when she died. Her death was one I am not fond to have dealt with. During a war, a coward shot her in the back as she tried to follow those she loved. I look back towards the white void.

"Shouldn't you be with Abigail?" I questioned.

"She's helping a new comer." I sighed. Abigail was Maria's much elder sister. A girl who died when Maria was only one. Abigail died at 20 I recalled.

"What do you want child?"

"Could you do the trick again?"

I turned to her fully now. 'This girl kept the spirit of a child' I thought to myself. I couldn't imagine why. She stays her age of death forever. Maybe it's so when the others arrive they recognize her.

"Please?" Her voice called again. I kneeled infront of her, setting down my scythe and moving my cape out of the way. I carefully reached over, and pulled out her soul.

Her soul was so beautiful, a little damaged but who's isn't. It was kneeling as I took it out, but quickly stood. Her soul glanced around and smiled.

I am always amazed by how souls look. Small figures of the being themself. Almost like a small sculpture, but alive. All souls love to dance and are naturally curious beings at heart. Each soul was special of course. They are as diverse as the person they belong to.

Maria giggled seeing her soul. I understand her fascination with the small being. Souls are beautiful. Maria's soul is a pinkish color, with slightly curled hair that bounces with her steps. I've seen many souls, their main colors tend to reflect the persons favorite color. But that isn't always true.

Souls are diverse, but there are consistencies. Angry souls will be more red, Sad souls will be more blue, and Damaged souls will be grey with a hint of color. But Damaged souls also could show what happened.

Angry souls and Sad souls tend to change color after death. The causes of Anger and Sadness being mended by then. But Damaged souls are always sad to see.

A soul becomes damaged with abuse, heartbreak, and trauma. Not all souls are fully damaged, but most of them have hints of damage to them. Maria's included. I remember how Maria lived, it wasn't a life for a child.

However, Maria kept a positive outlook, she had people there for her. Her soul was only made pastel by damage and that is something I am glad for.

You would think the bringer of Death would enjoy seeing people damaged, but that isn't true. It pains me to see a soul lose it's color and curiousity with damage.

However, it isn't all bad. Even damage can be repaired greatly. Although it never disappears, damage can be erased. With enough care, and love, damage fades. Always there though. And it always should be.

I've seen souls without damage and those souls all are the same. Souls with even the smallest bit of damage is what makes the world colorful. I do not even wish the damage completely away for those who have little to no color left. That Damage made them who they are.

"Dee, what color is your soul?"

"My soul?," I repeated, "I'm not sure Maria. I've never checked."

"You should Dee. It's good to know."

"Ok kid." I chuckle.

"I should be going. May I have my soul back please?" I place back her soul. Her kindness is very appreciated here in the white. She skips off after a quick goodbye.

I pause. I really never have checked my own soul...Did I even have one? After all, I'm death. I did have a life before, I could very vaugely recall. But after becoming Death...did I lose my soul.

I carefully reach inside myself, and find that I indeed had a soul. I brought him out.

He was a small guy for a soul. A faded blue color. He stood and looked about as I held him in my hands. He squeaked and shook his arms. Soul speech, not even I know what he's saying. He seemed to catch onto that quickly.

He started to dance slowly. Cautious of the world, or well, lack thereof around us. He had some bruises and seems frail. Seeing him reminded me of my life I had.

Who would've ever considered death to have been a kid that suffered child abuse. I knew for sure no one would now. Piercing cold blue eyes and raven black hair. I was tall now, unlike before.

My soul looked at me, he seemed to smile. Maybe imagining he would look closer to what I do someday, I haven't a clue what he thought.

I sighed and spoke softly, "Hey Lil' guy. I'm going to have to put you back. I have work to do." My soul nodded and I returned him to where he belongs.

I grabbed my scythe and stood, cape behind me. I exited the white into the human world. None of them could see me I knew. I had a job to do. Some people had reached their time. Its my duty to reap them and lead them to the white. From there Fate explains choices or one of the Waiters leads them to where they need to go.

After I reaped them, I returned. And after that?

I wait in the white for her.

Word count: 1045