AN: I've decided to try this again. The last one was mainly an experiment in a different perspective, but I didn't feel comfortable writing from a 1st person perspective, so I've returned to a more familiar 3rd person limited omniscient style.

No Rest for the Soul

Prologue

High above in the clouds a pair of Messerschmitt Bf.109s were hot on the tail of a British Supermarine Spitfire that was chasing after a V1 flying bomb. At this moment the pilot of the Spitfire was cursing up a storm as he weaved and dodged the two Nazi fighters cannon fire as he dived his plane, pushing his fighters engines to the firewall and fired both his four 50. Calibre guns and two 20mm guns at the V1 and watched in satisfaction as it dived straight into the drink with one of its wings shredded.

Now he had to escape his two pursuers. He continued his dive towards the drink and jinked his aircraft left and right, pushing his aircraft as close to the speed of sound as he possibly dared as he randomly dodged enemy fire, though he heard one or two pings of bullets hitting his aircraft's fuselage. With a mighty pull of the flight stick he pulled his Spitfire out of the dive and felt extremely heavy as the G-forces crushed him into his seat. His eyesight rapidly began greying around the edges, but he could still see his instrument panel and could see his altitude had stopped falling and was now rapidly gaining altitude.

As soon has the G-forces let up enough for his eyesight to return to normal he quickly took a look around the and spotted one of the Germans only a couple of hundred feet below his fighter, but there was no sign of his partner, and no sign of the brit's own squad mate.

He quickly keyed his radio. "Hey Ricky, where are you, you damned yank? You still alive?"

For a moment he heard nothing, but the squeaky voice of his American partner soon came over the radio. "I'm at Angels 30,Thomas, just above the cloud layer. Did you get that buzz bomb?"

"Do you even have to ask?" he retorted back over the radio. "I'm at Angels 20, below the cloud layer, and I'm dogging one of my pursuers. Come on down here and give me a hand. I've got a feeling his friend is not that far away."

"Roger that, reducing to Angels 20," said the American who quickly came out of the cloud layer and joined up on Thomas' right flank.

Seeing his partner finally rejoin him Thomas rolled his Spitfire over to the left and dived for the Bf.109's position, his squad mate's Spitfire following shortly after him. After activating his gun-camera he let off a quick three second burst of gunfire from his 50. Calibres, which chewed deeply into the Nazi fighter's right wing and tail, sending it into an uncontrollable dive, but his victory was short lived.

From out of the clouds its partner came with guns blazing, which caught Thomas' American squad mate in the engine and perforated the cockpit. Thomas' only warning the explosion of his partner's fuel tanks exploding and he immediately took evasive action. It soon became a battle of turning, the two fighters flew in a circular pattern as they tried to outturn each other and gained altitude. Unfortunately with the already high speed of the dive the Nazi fighter had already closed to almost point blank range and only needed to brake a little to bring his nose and consequently his fighters guns into alignment and lit up Thomas' fighter. Multiple bullets tore through the cockpit canopy and hit him through the top of his shoulders and continued through his body and exited through the bottom fuselage of the Spitfire.

Still holding onto the flight stick he almost lost control of his fighter as it began Dutch rolling and he moving in and out of consciousness. The Nazi fighter had zoomed ahead and had seemingly forgotten about him, its pilot having seen the Spitfire's pilot heavily injured and didn't think of him as a threat anymore. His last and very fatal mistake.

With some difficulty Thomas stabilised his fighter and increased speed, noting that he was rapidly running out of both blood and fuel and headed for the French side of the Channel. The Nazi had no idea he was being followed, until Thomas unloaded the last of his bullets and cannon rounds in his guns and blew the Bf.109 out of the sky.

With his job completed he turned back towards Britain and home, slipping in and out of consciousness, until his fighter's engine gave out from lack of fuel and from then on glided in, losing altitude at a steady rate. It was only when he finally saw the White Cliffs of Dover that he saw something unexpected. A man wearing black robes and a silly straw hat was flying right next to his plane. He attributed the sight to blood loss, and seconds later he finally lost consciousness and his fighter rolled over and went crashing down into the drink.

What seemed like moments later he awoke in midair and looked down, seeing the remains of his fighter sinking below the waves. He checked himself over and saw that he didn't have any bullet holes, and his oxygen mask and bottle were gone, exposing an angular face with a squared jaw and a neatly trimmed goatee and moustache. He also noticed the little accessory he had on his chest. A circular plate of metal and a short length of chain attached to it.

He soon notices someone approaching him. A man wearing a set of black robes and straw hat, the same one that was flying right next to his fighter. "Tough break kid. Sooner or later you knew that you could not escape death's cold grasp!"

"It certainly wasn't for lack of trying," Thomas responded ruefully. "Don't tell me you're the grim reaper?"

"That would be a rather rough translation into your language of what we call ourselves. The term 'Shinigami' can also be translated as Soul Reaper, which is basically what we do, though I wouldn't exactly say that we are particularly grim," said the Soul Reaper.

What, you collect the souls of the dead?" he asked perplexed.

"We help souls such as yourself to pass on to the afterlife, where you will wait until you are ready to rejoin the cycle of rebirth into the Living World again."

"So I wait in limbo while everything that I love is lost? No way in hell I'm ready to leave yet!" Thomas stated angrily, but the Soul Reaper just ignored him and drew his sword, while Thomas went for his sidearm, which he quickly noticed wasn't on him anymore, it was still with his rapidly sinking plane, so he took a more direct approach. He tried to run at the Soul Reaper, but found no purchase as he was still only floating in midair.

With an amused smirk the Soul Reaper made a small hand gesture and pointed his index and middle finger together straight at the hapless airman. "Bakudo number 1, Sai!" Instantly his arms and legs were forced behind his back and he could no longer move.

"Don't worry, you'll soon be on your way to a better excistence," the Soul Reaper said with a creepy smirk and lifted his swords hilt and pressed it gently into Thomas' forehead, and quickly Thomas' soul was on its way to the next great adventure.