One thing that sucks about my life is that there are things that I have to forget and things that I have to let go especially on the romantic side. And for someone who died a loner, a NBSB, and a virgin at the age of 18, that's a lot of things…well the latter part had somehow changed somewhere after I died but the rest still doesn't apply which make things more fucked up and feel a lot worse than it already is.
Anyway, been there done that, get through it and I moved on.
I can't have romance. And even though it sucks, dealing with it is all I can do. That's why I find it a good thing that my responsibilities are expanding after being promoted from both of my Day and Compulsory jobs. It diverts a lot of attention.
My name is George Lass. Five years ago my life was snatched away by a toilet seat from an old space station. I could have died completely and walked to my light back then but since the Reaper that pull out my soul had already reached his quota I must take his place and join the band of the undead known as the Grim Reapers aka Death's Minions.
Unlike what the living sees in movies and in televisions, we Grimm Reapers don't wear dark cloak and carry huge scythes, we actually looks fairly normal except that we can extract souls from the living and drink a lot of tequilas without having a hangover. But aside from that, we look as normal as the average Joe that people often sees in the street and wherever God knows where. We don't have special privileges, or any superpowers, and we still need to find a job if we wanted to eat.
Anyway, about a month ago, after working under his supervision for 5 years, Rube, our boss mysteriously disappeared. Cameron, the asshole that replaced him says that Rube had finally got his light and joined his family in his final destination. This is where things get out of control when Cameron screwed up everything along with my once responsible, aside from Mason, fellow Reapers. Natural order gets screwed, Reaps taken for granted, wrong schedules of deaths, and not to mention the abuse of the little powers that we have.
Eventually, Roxy, the cynical, no nonsense woman, the fuck up Mason, and the lonely girl under the bitchy surface Daisy finally got into their senses and took care of the catastrophic situation before it gotten a lot worst.
They succeeded in eliminating Cameron and blasting his ashes into the atmosphere along with the poor little Murray. However, the damage was already done and somebody must take over to fix it. And unfortunately, that somebody is none other than Me.
Yeah, I'm so fucked.
So, that's how my afterlife goes now. I'm the new Head Reaper of the Seattle District. I get the list, first thing in the morning, I assigned them, and we go reaping in the same old fashion way with the post-its. And thanks also to Kiffany who introduced us into a new Waffle House where she'd been transferred after the old one was burned down, we had found another comfortable hanging place.
The old fashion way was way better, or should I say the Rube fashion way was better. It took me some times though to return it back to the same way it is after Cameron screwed it up. But well, things are back to normal with me being in-charge.
Well, enough for that. That's the screwed up past and the past that I fixed in order to place some dignity on the present. It's my second week right now of being the new Head Reaper, and even though I'm still on the adjustment stage, I think I'm somehow making a good job so far, well, no one complains for starters.
"Coffee?" Kiffany offered as I transfer the death schedules from the list to the post its.
"Yes, please," I said and she poured the dark liquid into my cup.
"Okay, here are the Reaps for today," I told my fellow Reapers when Kiffany left, handing them their post-its.
"Hey, this one is due in 15 minutes," complained Roxy.
"Then you better get going," I replied with the smallest interest on her complains.
"Oh fuck this!" Roxy clenched her teeth and left.
"Why am I the only one getting two?" Mason asked.
"Because they're living under the same roof."
"Oh I hope it's not another Gay couple."
"What's wrong with a Gay couple?" Daisy asked.
Mason shifted his position on the cushioned chair from an almost lying one and leaned his elbows on the table, reading his post-its. "Nothing, I just have an awful experience reaping one."
"Georgia, what do you think of my new lipstick?" Daisy shifted her attention to me and as expected she's asking bullshits.
"It's a lipstick," I said impassively.
As usual again, that didn't quite stop her. "How about the color?"
"Does it look good on my lips?" she asked, pouting her now painted lips.
"I don't actually give a shit." I then looked to my wristwatch and sighed. "Oh fuck! I better go."
"See ya," Daisy raised her hand and wiggled her fingers.
Mason lazily raised his hand, "Bye."
By four o'clock I left Happy Time for my reaping appointment. One advantage that I really liked when I started working in front of a bigger table is the privilege of timing out without making much excuse as before.
"Millie." Except if Delores caught me. "Where are you going?"
Here we go again. "I need to arrange something," I said. "Need a ride?"
"You wouldn't mind? I can't still drive that well yet." Delores said in teary eyes.
I slashed my head sideways, "Nope."
I arrived at the park after I dropped Delores on the pet shop. She's on a quest of finding a new companion in life after losing her cat, Murray, which had greatly struck her on the emotional side.
After parking my car and finding a good place to sit, look, and observe, I shifted my senses into the maximum for possible candidates, for Gravelings, for possible cause of death, technically everything that would help me identifies my Reap.
"Looking for someone?" I flinched on the sound of his voice and on the fact that I didn't notice that somebody had actually seated beside me. Whoa! Where the fuck did he came from? "Sorry, did I startle you?"
Flitting a look to my right, I instantly regained my composure and replied, "No, not really." I replaced my attention back to my surroundings again…still no sign. Ten minutes had passed and the situation remains the same, so I returned my attention back to him and I noticed that he was writing in a small notebook, and even though it wasn't on my nature to intrude into other people's personal business, there is something that pulled me towards him. "What are you writing?"
"Schedules," he said while scribbling it down, each strokes of his hands are both precise and lazy at the same time. "How about you? Who are you looking for?"
I asked myself on how he knew that I'm actually looking for someone, someone to Reap to be exact. Was I that obvious? Anyhow, I found no reason to deny what I believe is obvious to him and he doesn't even know my real intention on this person, so why bother making a time consuming excuse. "Someone named L. Gordon," I said, rechecking the name and ETD on my post-it.
He looked around and then scribed something down, and then he turns to me. "Do you personally know him?"
"No." Except that he's going to die in 5 minutes.
"Do you know what he looks like?" he continued, still scribbling on his notebook.
"Another no," I grinned.
He shook his head. "Well, that's a pain," he said, looking through the crowd of people gathering and doing their own things in the park. "He could be anyone in this cluster."
He smiled and extended his hand to me, "Mortuus Faux."
"Millie," I said as I shake his hand. "Nice name."
"Just call me Mark, that name is kind of…complicated."
I nodded and said, "Sure…Mark."
Okay, I'm definitely a big fat liar if I said that I was not amused by him. He's an interesting kind of guy and I'll be lying also if I said that I don't find him attractive especially that he's probably the hottest guy I'd ever lay my eyes on. And that was even an understatement. "You need a hand?"
I don't know what the fuck had got into me but I answered, "Why not."
He then looked around, as clueless as I am. "How about him?" He pointed a middle-aged African-American guy doing some jogging. "Mr. Gordon!" he called out for him.
The dark skinned guy responded and ceased his jog. Wiping some sweat from his head by the towel hanged around his neck, he approached and asked, "Yes?"
My mouth fell open, amazed. What a devil's luck. He found my guy in first try.
"May I help you, kids?" L. Gordon asked Mark and then glanced to me.
"My friend here might be looking for you?" Mark turned to me. "Is he your L. Gordon?"
"Are you Larry Gordon?" I asked him. Of course I made up a name out of the first letter, whether I get it right or not it will still confirm if he is my Reap or not.
"No, Lucas," he corrected me. "Lucas Gordon."
He's my guy. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was looking for a Larry Gordon." I then took that opportunity to place my Reaper touch on his forearm and swipe his soul just a minute before his death. "Sorry for the bother."
"No problem," he said and resume jogging. His last jogging to be exact. By then the troublemaking Gravelings finally made their appearance and I wonder what their tricks are this time.
Sixty seconds later that question was answered. While passing through a tree, he didn't notice that someone was cutting a huge branch above. The Graveling untied Larry's shoelace forcing him to stop right above the huge branch that was being cut. The man above didn't notice him and continued sawing it. The branch fell, smashing Larry Gordon dead.
"Geez, is he dead?" asked Mark as soon as he got aware of the event.
Larry's soul then materialized beside me, standing still in confusion. "Yes, yes he is."
"That's just nasty," he commented, and he sounds more amused on the event than being disgusted.
"Tell me about it." While Mark was paying attention to the building crowd and commotion around Lucas' Gordon's lifeless body, I whispered to his soul, "Hey, do you see a blinding light from right here?"
His eyes got fixed into something from afar. "Yes," he nodded, mystified but ecstatic.
"Do me a favor, go to that light. Okay?"
"Is that where I'm going now?"
"Yeah," I whispered. And then he was gone.
I almost jumped from where I was sitting when I found Mark staring at me when I turned to his way. "Who are you talking to?"
"Uhm…no it's nothing."
Oh great, now he thinks that I'm some kind of psycho now. "Yeah," I bit my lower lip. "I'm just kind of thinking out loud."
"You think your L. Gordon is still gonna show up."
He showed up alright, unlikely that he's show up again since he's dead. "Maybe not," I looked at my watched. "Its pass five already, my boss said that if he don't show up in time, leave."
"So you're leaving then?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
"You sure he was not your L. Gordon?" he pointed his thumb towards Gordon's dead body.
"Even though it's him, I don't think that he can still go with me and like I said I'm looking for a Larry," I lied.
"And I'm looking for a coffee," he stared at me, meeting my eyes. I couldn't help but to stare back, eye to eye, locking it and locking it good. "Why don't you join me?"
His offer is very tempting plus I have nothing else to do, so why not. "Sure."
END OF CHAPTER 1