Hallo! If you are reading this then that means you are interested or somewhat interested in this story, have nothing to read or wants to see what kind of crap this is.
Well!
This is just on a whim. I thought of this while on my three week long trip, so it's not that great. Hopefully you'll like it, whoever you are.
And I'm accepting OCs, too. :)
Hopefully it's not crap!

There are many names for Death in this world. Black angel, Grim Reaper, messenger of Death. But here, in this time and place, they call themselves Death Reapers. Committers of suicide, the ultimate sin, they are punished by collecting the souls of the dying and bringing them to the Council of the Dead, who judges them and determines their fate.

Alongside them are the Death Omens, spirits of people who traded their life force for their dying loved ones'. Given the body of a black cat and the ability to sense the dying, they appear before the unfortunate victim and call its Reaper. Neither could do their job without each other.

Both Omens and Reapers have their memories of their past lives erased. If they are remembered, they are forced to go to eternal confinement where they are left alone, so that they will go to pieces in solitude.

It's a serious issue to recall what is meant to be forgotten in the world of the Dead.


"Bye Riley!"

"See you tommorow!"

"Don't forget to study for that test next week!"

I smiled at the three teenage girls outside of my house, my long, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze.

"See you guys, too."

After several long minutes of hugging, waving, and laughing, I watched them walk away, talking to each other and fretting about that English test that I didn't even remember. Soon, they were out of sight.

Finally.

I walked inside my modest house and tossed my overweight backpack onto a couch. Then, I looked around. Anna was already gone.

"Fine, start without me, you impatient meanie," I muttered to myself as I crossed the hall to my miniscule room. "I told her that I had detention today; didn't I specifically ask her to wait for me?"

I sat down on the tiny twin-sized bed and glanced at the clock.

5:45 P.M.

Shit. I was supposed to start twenty-five minutes ago!

I cursed to myself as I stripped off my tee shirt and shorts, then ran to my bottom drawer and flung it open. Yanking out the clothes from inside, I threw them on. Then, I closed my eyes and utilized my unique shape-shifting ability. My hair grew shorter and darker, my skin paler, and even my height grow three inches. Well, every little detail counted; I couldn't be recognized.

The uniform for my…occupation was vague. All it had to be was black, dark, able to blend into the night. I wore the clothes of the last person in my position, who happened to be a boy my age. So it consisted of a black hoodie, dark blue jeans, black sneakers, and a black cap. Simple.

I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror. I narrowed my now silver irises at the three, pale scars that ran left-to-right across my forehead, the longest one crossing my right eye. No, now was not the time to try remembering memories that should never be unearthed from the black hole in my mind. To do so would result in a terrible punishment, so dreadful that even the strongest Death Reapers fall to pieces and their souls vanish completely. Shaking away stray thoughts, I swiftly leapt out the window and took off into the night.


I ran down the darkening street, my breaths appearing in little clouds in the frozen air. 'Where is she, where is she,' I grumbled to myself as I looked around. Finally, I found her, changed in her own uniform consisting of tight black robes wrapped around her body. They were held together by, strangely enough, a bright pink sash around her middle. The same color thread was stitched in patterns all over the black cloths. The Death Reaper's long, similar pink hair reached her knees and swayed in the wind. Her emerald green eyes stared at me disapprovingly as I reached her, hunched over and gasping for breath. "You're late," Anna said.

"No shit, Sherlock," I retorted, slowly catching my breath. "Didn't I tell you that I was going to be late? I asked you to wait for me!"

"Death Reapers wait—"

"Yeah, yeah, they wait for no one. Too bad you can't do your job well without a Death Omen."

"You shouldn't have gotten detention," she replied simply. Her hard eyes glittered. "If you were more careful in school, you wouldn't have been in trouble, so you wouldn't have received detention and thus wouldn't have been late."

I bit my lip and lowered my eyes in shame, hating her clear logic.

The young woman smiled at my reaction. I heard her walk over to me and I felt her cool fingers lift my chin. She gazed into my eyes and said, "Let's get to work, shall we?"

I sighed and answered, "Yeah. Let's."

Yes, I know, it's short. But the next chapter's a bit longer.

Here's the OC form:

Name: (Try to stay away from Japanese names, please. But if you must...)

Gender:

Human or Death Reaper? Choose 1. (Humans are Riley's friends, by the way)

If you are a Death Reaper: What kind of Death Omen do you have? (See Chapter 2 for explanation; must be an animal)

Personality: (Nice, shy, paranoid? Mean? A bully? Describe what kind of person your OC is. Thoroughly, please, or else I'll have nothing to work with.)

History: (How did your OC become a Death Reaper If you chose that? Or for the human: Any experience with Death? But no sappy sad story, like, 'Oh, my whole family was massacred last night and I just barely escaped with my life' kinda thing. Something more realistic like a disease or fatal injursy. Be creative, but not fantastical.)

Family: (Does your Death Reaper OC have a still-living family? What was his or her relationship to them? Human: Same thing, but again, try to stay away from 'Yeah, my dad drinks every two seconds of his life and beats me, my mother can't keep her hands out of the pants of every guy walking down the street, my brother is a drop out and a drug dealer, and my sister has...issues.' Please, try to stick to the norm or something.)

Weapon (Death Reaper): (Not the Super Awesome Stick of Incredible Spirit Power, please. A scythe is good, but kind of boring. Swords, daggers, shuriken, maces, lances, whips, etc. There will be demons in the future, so something decent. If you are stuck, flip through the cast of characters of Bleach, Naruto, Buso Renkin, etc for the weapons)

Hobbies: (Something your OC likes to do. Include dislikes, fears, and what he or she likes. Just an extra detail for the character)

Since this IS my first OC fiction, if there's anything you'd like to add, just tell me.
PM me, please. Reviews are for the story, PMs are for everything else. If you would like to submit an OC, review in advance.

I will accept 7 Death Reapers and 5 human friends, so submit ASAP!

Thanks for reading!

~kurochan