Cold moonlight fell across her face – illuminating her cheek bones, her nose, her forehead – she was beautiful. Her chest rose and fell slightly as she breathed; her pale skin entangled in the sheets. I longed to reach out and touch her – to caress her soft skin and tangle her hair in my fingertips, but I could not… and I knew I could not… but I wanted it so badly it almost didn't matter; I was in love…
"It's unethical, Grimm," he snapped, his voice resounding in my head, loudly. I jumped, startled.
"Could you get out of my head?" I whispered, "and stop doing that."
"Well how else am I supposed to get you to listen?" he asked, obviously pleased that he was able to annoy me so much.
"I hate you," I told him quietly.
"Dude, why are you whispering?" he laughed at me. "She can't hear you."
"I know that," I snapped back.
"Jeeze. Get out of there, man. Seriously."
I let out a fairly long, exasperated sigh, and allowed myself one last look at her pretty sleeping face. I wrapped myself up in my cloak and spun quickly in circles - POOF – I was back at my office. Jared was waiting for me, he wasn't hiding his annoyance. I flashed him a dashing smile, and hung my cloak on the rack. He shook his head in disgust.
"What's the matter with you?" he demanded. "Man, you're losing your head over this chick." He paused for a moment, before realizing what he'd said. "Sorry," he offered, though still angry.
"I don't care anymore," I said. "And I know… it's driving me crazy." I sat at my desk, barely taking time to glance at the huge stack of To-Die files on the edge of my desk.
"Falling in love is stupid, dude. It's for humans."
"We are humans," I argued.
"No, man – we were humans. We're dead, remember?"
"Vaguely…"
"You're such a dumb ass," he said, folding his arms.
"Takes one to know one," I chided.
"Oh good Lord, Grimm – how old are you?" He was almost yelling at this point, but instead he just heaved a huge sigh and stormed out of my office.
I did feel a little guilty about pissing Jared off – he was the only one here who didn't spend all of his time trying to impress me; and he wasn't all depressed and obsessive over finding his purpose.
I pulled the stack of To-Die files towards me, and began shuffling through them, not really paying attention to who was in the pile. I flipped through pile after pile – all the faces; smiling stupidly, laughing, picking their noses, crying, or just pissed in general, like I was. I sat there, staring at the files in front of me and letting my mind wander…
I had died in 1650, a victim of some strange European illness that took out my whole family. As a human I'd been… eccentric, to say the least. I'd thrown parties, married a beautiful girl and fathered two children… my wife was kind, and intelligent, but I never loved her as I should have. She was convenient, and it was a definite business marriage; I was set on owning part of her father's land, and to do that I had to be wed to her first. I didn't mind it, so much. She was good company, pleasant to look at, and she was very helpful to have around; but I never fell in love with her.
It was late autumn when my son fell ill; contracting the illness from one of his friends or something. It wasn't long before my daughter and my wife were both sick as well. I never understood why it took so long to take me under; I always assumed it was my strong constitution, but one winter morning I passed into the darkness, following my wife and children by only a few weeks…
I woke up in a strange room; it looked rather like a business office, which struck me as odd. There was a man seated at a desk, a stack of parchment to his left that stood about three feet high. He was reading one of the papers, making strange noises with his throat, and studying it as if were of the utmost importance. I cleared my throat loudly.
"Excuse me," I said, trying to get his attention. "Where am I?"
"You're dead," he answered, not looking away from the parchment.
"I'm… dead?" I stammered. I sat for a moment, unsure of how to feel. This certainly didn't look like heaven, but it was much too comfortable to be hell. Perhaps the Christians had been wrong after all… but no, how could that be? This didn't make sense. I couldn't be dead. "Surely, there's some mistake," I suggested, trying to see the truth.
"No, you're dead." He set down the parchment briefly, scrutinizing me. He cleared his throat loudly and resumed reading the parchment.
"Well, where are my wife and children? Don't I get to see them?" I asked, truly confused.
"No," he answered.
"Why not?"
"Because their souls have crossed over to the Other Side," he said, somewhat annoyed. "They lived their lives as they wanted to."
"Then why I haven't I crossed over?"
"You have "unfinished business", as they say." He set down the parchment and looked me straight in the eyes. "Your soul will not cross over until you have fulfilled that part of your life."
"But what didn't I do? I don't understand."
"That's the part you have to figure out on your own."
"So what am I supposed to do until I figure that out?"
"You remain here, and work for us until it comes to you. As a Reaper; you will go to Earth and bring back the souls of people as they die, and help them pass over to the Other Side. If you're here long enough, you'll get promoted – you may even sit in this desk someday. I doubt that, though." he chuckled at his own little joke. "Congratulations. It's a great job," he said, trying to shine some light on it.
"I won't be here long enough to enjoy it, I assure you."
"That's what everyone says." he sighed, and handed me a piece of parchment. "That's your first Victim," he said. "To be killed by ten-o-five tomorrow morning. If you go see Vicki, she'll see about a cloak for you, and Tim will teach you how to Vanish…"
"Are you God?" I asked him.
"No," he said, as if he got that a lot. "My name's Grimm."
I spent years Reaping souls for Grimm; sometimes doing hundreds in one day. Grimm was very impressed, needless to say, and I rose through the ranks swiftly. It was only 50 or so years before he found his purpose, and after he'd fulfilled it, he was ready to pass over to the other side. Before he'd left, he took me aside.
"This is very important," he told me. "I trust you – you're a natural at this stuff. And though it's unfortunate that you've had to stay here so long, I think you've got what it takes to be the head of this shindig. What do you say?"
"I… I don't know," I replied, and I really didn't.
"Just say yes," he said, "and you can be in my shoes." He looked at me earnestly, his eyes full of something- it looked almost like peace; as if crossing over was all he needed now.
"I'll do it," I said, after a moment. I almost regretted saying it as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
"Wonderful. Wonderful! Congratulations," he said, shaking my hand. He reached behind his door, pulling his long blue cloak off the coat rack. "I won't need this anymore," he said, running his coarse hands over it. He handed it to me. "I'll be seeing you, Grimm," he smiled – finally able to pass the name off to someone; and for the last time he spun around and Vanished.
By some odd amount of bad luck or Karma or… whatever, I'd been put in charge of all this idiocy. Yes, I was the much-feared Grimm Reaper himself. At least, I liked to believe I was much-feared. It wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind when I'd imagined an afterlife, but it was good enough for me; and I floated through each and every day, stealing souls and ruining lives – and none of it could ever fulfill me.
I found myself flipping through the files, not really looking at anyone, but searching for a familiar face – simply looking for bright green eyes, a mane of curly red hair… an excuse to touch that pale skin.
She wasn't there.
I didn't know why I wanted to see her there so badly – in fact, it was almost evil of me to want it, but hey… evil was practically my middle name.
"You're pathetic," Jared's voice resounded in my skull.
"Get out of my head," I warned.
"Fine."
I was almost angry that he couldn't keep himself out of my head, but at the same time I couldn't exactly disagree with him. I was pathetic; sitting here just wishing that I could steal this girl's soul and keep her here with me, all because I'd fallen in love with her pretty face.
With a new, self-pitying determination I began looking through the files again, pulling out the ones I felt needed to die today. Once I had twenty or so, I put on my long blue cloak and headed out into the early morning air.
The stones that lead away from my office were slick with rain, and a thick fog hung in the air, hiding the other buildings in the district. I imagine it would have been very cold – had I been able to feel it. Having no nerve endings made feeling anything quite difficult. I tried to remember what the cool air would feel like on my skin, but I couldn't remember that sensation. It was very disappointing.