Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
PROLOGUE OCTOBER 1ST, 1989
THE REAPERS were not like the other jobs in The Commission. They did not sit in rows or wear three-piece-suits or carry silly little briefcases. In a sense, they operated like security. They were feared by most of the other Commission workers — a fact Vincent had always found ridiculous considering they were all on the same payroll, but whatever — since most of them were tall, dark looming figures passing through the halls. They weren't like the Grim Reaper that pops up in all the human cartoons with the long dark robes, but their job was harder than most which often reflected on their weary expressions and mostly-black attire. The reason their jobs were harder than the other Commission workers maintaining the timeline was because unlike worrying about things on a larger scale, they had to worry about pure, everyday human stupidity. One of the most wildly unpredictable things on the planet.
On the day a new child is born, their death date is given to a Reaper. Most Reapers will have 5-6 lives at a time, keeping track of them on a handful of monitors that follow them everywhere they go. They are also given a death date and nothing is to happen to that life until that date is up. Simple enough.
Vincent recently finished off one of his lives, an old lady named Doris passing away surrounded by family — she had been an easy one. Doris passed away on September 30th, 1989. On October 1st, 1989, the Reapers had their hardest jobs yet. 43 children were born to mothers who had not been pregnant when the day began.
"Dude, did you hear about the 43? Did you get any of them?" his coworker, Evangeline asked him, handing him his cup of coffee in the morning as they headed into their offices. Their life was so mundane for an immortal being, it made Vincent wonder if the other compartments weren't as scared of the Reapers as they were of the idea of controlling death. Still, it wasn't something Vincent could help, so he tried not to dwell on it as much.
"Not sure, I just lost Doris and I'm in a lull since my last one is heading towards his end next week, I'll probably get a couple of them. You?" Vincent took a sip from his coffee, iced and black just how he liked it. Evangeline knew him well. Of course, her sugary concoction that was a sad excuse for coffee made him wrinkle his nose, but he always had a sip of it whenever she offered because he knew she liked to watch his face shrink up at the sweetness of it. It wasn't that Vincent was a cliche for his job title, he had always been a simple person. Nothing wrong with that. When you live forever, you get sick of things being complicated.
"Aw, don't tell me John's got an early grave? He seemed like a fun dude. Anyway, I've got a full plate, so I think I only got one, kind of a bummer. Those kids are gonna be freaks," Evangeline sighed, "I think Herman got like three of 'em, I'm so jealous."
Vincent scoffed, "Please, I've been through so much with John, I'd rather avoid the freaks for a while. He did like... a gram of coke last night and I'm like dude, your overdose is set for next week, don't jump the gun."
"Ugh, I'm so jealous, I've got like three people set for dying of old age right now and I'm so sick of them, I'm so tempted to kill one of them off just for shits and giggles," the woman sighed as they went into their separate cubicles. "Cubicle" was an oversimplified term for it, really, considering they pretty much had to have their own offices due to the sheer size of the workspace. Having a monitor for each person you were watching at the moment, another one for mundane work reasons, plus the system that delivers death dates and birth dates and the tack boards that keep track of those things, it gets a little messy.
He tries his best to keep his work area organized, but this life he's dealing with right now is a bit of a hassle. With his coffee break over, he really hoped his lives haven't gotten themselves killed in the five minutes he was gone. That was one of the hardest things about being a Reaper -- and probably why they all had such awful dark circles -- it was pretty much a 24/7 job. Even if all of your lives somehow managed to have matching sleep schedules (rare), you had to make sure none of them died in their sleep (surprisingly hard).
"You know, it's kind of shitty that we do so much lifesaving on a daily basis, but they define us by the death part," Evangeline was going off on her usual tangent about their job title, "Like, we don't even control the death part! We just make sure they die at the right time! We're more like guardian angels, but no that's too nice we just have to be Reapers! Isn't that annoying?"
"Oh, yeah, so annoying," Vincent sighs as he sips his coffee, looking over at his monitors and making sure John isn't dead. He's waking up from a nasty hangover, but still very much alive and breathing. He nods in a way of congratulating the man who has no idea he exists. Still, the actual fun technology hasn't been invented for humans yet, so he understands why they turn to hard drugs as a hobby. God, Vincent can't wait for the 2000s.
"You're not even listening to me!" she complains before something draws her attention. She disappears for a moment before she returns with a tube in her hand, "Dude, look, I got one! Aw, man, it's not even one of the weird ones, God damn it."
Vincent laughed, "When's he due?"
"2018, ugh, I'm stuck with him for thirty years, the name's Leonard. Who the fuck names their kid Leonard? That's just cruel," she complains, looking at the piece of paper. "Whatever, I'm gonna head back to work, let me know if you get any of the fun ones."
"Yup, will do," he nods and the woman leaves him be. He sighs, checking his one monitor. It's almost peaceful, watching John lay in bed and contemplate life. He tends to do that a lot, but not for much longer, Vincent supposes.
Something draws his attention as a tube pops into his inbox. Then another, and another, another, another, another, and... another.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Vincent sighs as he opens them up. One Hargreeves, Two Hargeeves, Three Hargreeves, Four Hargreeves, Five Hargreeves, Six Hargreeves, and Seven Hargreeves. "Numbers? Who the fuck names their kids after numbers?"
"Did you get one?" he hears Evangeline call excitedly as her head pops around the corner for what he knows will not be the last time that day. She looks at Vincent as he begins tacking up the death dates on his board. "Holy shit."
He groans, sitting back and staring at the monitors as they begin to pop up with seven children each on their own screen. "Yeah, tell me about it."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
