The Reaper and His Assistant

1

"What do you mean, work with him?! He fucking killed me!" She rose from her chair, slamming her fists on the table, rattling the angel's mug of tea. She glanced around to see all the eyes staring at her as if she lost her mind and slowly sank back down, trying to hide herself under the dark table. The angel took a sip of her tea. "It isn't like he had much choice, Kalisa. Orders are orders."

"So he was ordered to murder me and forced me into, essentially being his goddamn secretary, it magically makes it all a-okay?" Kalisa sneered through her teeth. The waitress nervously set Kalisa's ribeye and sides on the table. She nodded at the girl before viciously cutting into the meat.

The angel folded her hands on the table. "He was never human, yet you expect him to act like one? My your kind are quite interesting." She placed some money on the table. "There's more going on than you even know. I hope, for his sake, that you learn quickly.....this time."

Kalisa was still chewing on the steak, loud and rudely, as the angel left. She slowed and became quiet except for the clinking of silverware on the plate as she heard the front door's bell tinkle, signalling the departure of her lunch mate. Her eyes shifted over the $20's on the table, on top was a black business card with gold lettering. Angelic Bath and Beauty...are all angels like her? She mused, Cold and direct but somehow have a sense of punic humor. She sighed and finished her meal in slow silence. Even though her stomach ached, every bite was like ash. Finally she got up to leave and picked up a little of the money the angel had left leaving enough for the waitress and then some.

As she stepped out of the diner she could hear the soft roar of thunder in the distance. She didn't have much time to find a place to stay. She couldn't go home, to family, or friends. They would think her a nutcase. She glanced at her reflection in the window, seeing herself always confused her for a moment. Alive she was a chocolate brown haired mouse of a woman, quiet and a bookworm. Dead she had fire in her eyes and hair black as night. There were other differences but it was the look in her eyes that sent chills down her spine. It was like her personality did a 180 after death. She tore her gaze away and started walking towards the cheap hotels. They were in an area that she was always warned to steer clear of, but she didn't see much of an option. She'd get some kind of sleep and meet her murderer, or "Reaper", in the morning.

She was soaked by the rain when she finally found a motel that didn't look completely condemned. "I need a room for one night, I only have cash on me and I misplaced my ID,'' she said to the front desk person. He looked fairly young but already like he was done with life. He handed her a key, "try to keep the noise to a minimum, don't flush the condoms, and please don't leave anything behind."

"I'll remember that," Kalisa smiled. "But I'm not a prostitute."

"Sure, hun, sure." He waved her off.

She shook her head and walked off, definitely done with life. She turned the lights on as she went into her room, making sure there was plenty of light. She sat on the end of the bed with a soft creak. She wanted to cry and scream and curse.

He was there at the crosswalk and she was in her own world coming up with different scenes for her next erotica when she felt a slight push in her back then a loud horn and blackness. When she woke up he was there again. He had pain in his eyes and pushed past her, slamming the door behind her, the sound made her jump and she was faced with an angel who called herself Asariel. She was like the head angel apparently of the Reapers. Kalisa didn't care for the history and what-not of the Reapers, they were murderers in her opinion. And now she had to work with hers for some reason or another, she wasn't paying attention to that the first go around.

She sighed and turned on the tv, "boring, boring, political bullshit, boring." She flopped back in the bed and stared at the ceiling. She should be tired, why wasn't she? She got up reluctantly, maybe a shower will help.

Nope. Maybe some porn?

Nope. God fucking dammit, serial documentaries it is...

"Already 7am. Food tastes like ash and sleep is a foreign concept. I just love being fucking dead." She left her room and dropped her key in the drop box. "Let's go meet the asshole."