The Grim Reaper

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The sun was unreasonably hot and his hooded cloak made it all the more unbearable. There was no purpose to his attire, but it was the way he looked since the dawn of time, and thus, it was the way it was. 

The Grim Reaper bent down and looked down at the face of the man who just collapsed at the entrance of a subway station. Thin lines radiated from the man's closed eyes, creased across his forehead, and lined the sides of his mouth. He looked like he smiled often, but also frowned deeply and had his share of troubles.

Over the centuries, the Grim Reaper had garnered quite a bit of knowledge on how someone's facial features told their life story. He could almost guess the first words that their souls would utter based on the shape of their mouth, how much their eyes drooped, the cut of their jawline and the clothes they wore. It had become a sort of a game to him, except he was the only player and there was no winning or losing the game. 

"Hmm... 'Who', 'where' and 'am I dead'", the Grim Reaper muttered to himself as he stood up straight and stood to the left of the man. By then, a small crowd had gathered around him, filled with concern for this man who they've never met in their life, and would almost definitely paid no attention to if he were up and walking. Someone was dialing the number for the ambulance, but it was already too late. 

The Grim Reaper waited politely, his hands clasped behind him, as if he was waiting for orders at a fancy restaurant. He was invisible to the eyes of the living, but he wanted to look presentable and less intimidating to his next target lying on the floor. Dying was tough enough, and having to wake up to a towering figure in black is somewhat of a bummer. 

A faint light had started to emit from the man's lifeless body, and tendrils of the milky glow started to wisp upwards and form the shape of the man's silhouette. Won't be long now, the Grim Reaper thought. 

Slowly, the man's soul formed and firmed up, and floated down towards the ground. His face, originally emotionless, suddenly twisted and a look of surprise came across him, as if he was jerked away from a daydream. The soul looked around and first saw the crowd gathered around something on the ground. But then, his eyes flitted upwards and saw the tall Grim Reaper looking directly at him. 

"Who... who are you?" The soul asked. Suddenly, the air filled with faint ringing of sirens. The soul glanced around. "Where am I?" His attention was drawn back to the body on the ground and the commotion surrounding it. His eyes widened as he recognized himself, lying prone and motionless. "Am I... dead?"

Three for three, the Grim Reaper chuckled silently to himself. He unclasped his hands and glided slowly towards the soul, who tried to back away but was frozen to the spot by fear. "Hello, Joseph. You are dead, but please do not be alarmed. I am here to help."

The soul seemed to slump his shoulders slightly at the confirmation of his death, but at the same time, appeared to be less fearful of the Grim Reaper. "How did I die?" he whispered softly, his head turned in the direction of his body but not daring to approach it. "Heart attack, as far as I can tell. You'll remember slowly." The Grim Reaper offered a hand to the soul. Over the centuries, he learnt that physical contact was important to newly deceased souls. It gave them something tangible to hold on to, while giving the impression that the tall, imposing Reaper had some semblance that he cared for them.

The soul, Joseph, looked at the outstretched hand, then at the Grim Reaper's face shrouded underneath the hood. "No! I can't be dead!" He stumbled away from the Grim Reaper, shaking his head vehemently. "I need to go back to my girls, I have a family, they still need me. We have a holiday planned next week..." He started to well up at the same time as desperation overtook the sadness in his eyes. "Please, I'll do anything, just let me go back. Please."

The Grim Reaper sighed to himself and started concentrating on the soul. It usually took him a few seconds to locate what he wanted, and he drew very little pleasure from the process. Memories from Joseph's soul started to scroll through the Grim Reaper's eyes, like a movie fast-forwarded a hundred times, but each memory was accompanied by what Joseph felt at that time. His birth, childhood, adolescent, adulthood, and finally, his death. There were a few choices that the Grim Reaper could find, and he picked the one that was most recent.

He took a deep breath and blew the air towards Joseph's direction. Joseph gasped, almost choking, but it was not air that he was choking on - it was a memory that Joseph thought he had let go of. Joseph suddenly found himself standing by the side of his wife's hospital bed, grasping her hand, looking at her peaceful face which was blurred through his tears. It was the moment she passed away from cancer, six years ago. His two daughters were only two and three years old, and were with their grandparents as he did not want them to see their mother like this. 

Holding her hand, Joseph felt his world crumbling around him. All the memories of their time spent together, laughing, crying, loving - all of these amplified his pain. He would no longer hear her voice, see her smile, feel her soft touch. What was the point of living in a world that didn't have his wife in it? Where was the fairness of it all, if someone as good as her could be taken away just like that? 

The soul, Joseph, felt all of these emotions hit him like a truck, but magnified a thousandfold. He remembered wanting to leave his life behind, to join his wife in whatever afterlife she went to. He could feel the tears back in his eyes as he screamed internally in an attempt to block out the pain.

"Take me, take me now. I don't want to stay here, just make it stop." The soul was destitute, tears streaming down his weary face. 

The Grim Reaper nodded and extended his hand towards Joseph, who took it and held onto it as if it were the only thing left in the world that could make the pain stop. Together, they walked towards the light.

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