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Most reapers are very open- some even excited- to talk about their deaths. Reapers normally end their human lives in a tragic or heroic event that proves they can handle the job. There are a few, however, who have difficulty accepting their deaths. They become reclusive on the anniversaries of their deaths, which some celebrate as a sort of second birthday into their reaper lives.
William does neither. He has accepted his death, but he does not celebrate it like Ronald Knox celebrates how he passed on. William T. Spears was a high-ranking officer in the British Navy when he died while saving two children whose villiage was under attack. He was escorting them out of their burning house when another soldier, one of his subordinates, decided to use the chaos to shoot his higher-up in the head. The reaper who was to reap his soul had decided, after viewing his record, that William would be a dutiful worker and possibly rank very high in the Division one day.
It was one his current subordinates, however, who liked to give him so much trouble, that William wished that all he did was put a bullet through his skull. Grell Sutcliff did not like to complete paperwork on time, but she rarely left in the middle of a case to go do who knows what. Today will be one of those days, William thought to himself.
He knew what would be coming up soon, but that did not give Sutcliff leave and let the soul to stay there until William realized what happened and sent someone to retrieve it. In one week, it would be Sutcliff's death anniversary, and the redhead became completely incompetent in the week leading up to it; it was almost a tradition. The normally loud reaper would become subdued, and she would manage to wear the actual required uniform, which did not include a red coat from the deceased body of half of Jack the Ripper.
These changes often concerned William because the change was so dramatic. There was only one thing that kept him from asking Grell if she needed to talk about it, and that is keeping his role as a supervisor. It only happens once a year, and with time, Grell can eventually accept it. She has never done anything so drastic, though. Skipping assignments was not something that the redheaded reaper would ever do; she loves her job and everything that came with it.
Suddenly, his phone rang, jerking William from his thoughts. "Spears," he said into the line.
"Mr. Spears, there have been complaints about Sutcliff in the housing units," said his secretary, Mary Johnson.
"Oh? She's in her room?" William asked.
"Yes, sir. The complaints say that they can hear smashing and her Death Scythe."
"Okay, I will go take care of it, thank you for letting me know."
After hanging up, William left his office, heading towards Sutcliff's rooms in the housing units for reapers. He found her room with unsurprising ease, for the door was painted a deep, blood red. He knocked on the door, and after he listened to the roaring of her chainsaw and several loud crashes, William just opened the door. He paid little attention to the kitchen and living room, instead running directly towards where the noises were, in the bedroom. At first, he was slightly nervous. What if she was doing unsavory things with that demon? At that thought, William's resolve hardened and he kicked open the locked door.
She was standing there in only an over-sized work shirt that hung nearly to her knees. Her hair was knotted at the back of her neck, and strands of it were stuck to her forehead with sweat. In her hands was her Death Scythe, and her room was torn to shreds. Her mirrors were shattered and her clothes were out of her wardrobe and on the floor. Wardrobe itself was on its way to becoming little more than kindling, along with what appeared to be a bedside table and a desk. Her face, though, was what frightened him, and he was rarely frightened. Her eyes were glassy with tears, eyeliner and mascara running down her cheeks in thick black lines. There were small spots of blood around her mouth, implying that she had bitten her lips with her shark-like teeth.
Grell paid little mind to her superior and lifted her scythe to attack her wardrobe again. Running forward, William grabbed her shoulder with one hand and the handle to her scythe with the other. He pulled the chainsaw out of her grasp and pushed her onto her bed. It was only until after he tossed the now-silent scythe onto the floor that he realized that pushing her made her shirt slide up her thighs and show a fair more amount of pale skin than what William was used to seeing from the other reaper.
"Wi- Will?" Grell stuttered, her voice thick with tears. "Give me back my scythe! And get out! What are you doing in a lady's room?"
William wanted to ask her if she was okay, to find out what had upset her so much, but instead he straightened his back and said quietly "There have been some complaints about noise from other reapers. And that is no way to use a Death Scythe, Sutcliff."
Her expression darkened, and William saw something strange in her eyes, almost like the madness that occurred during the Jack the Ripper case.
"Fine, I'll stay quiet. I'll be more subtle next time I decide to destroy my room." She laughed and then laid down on her bed, tugging the hem of her shirt down so it covered more of her legs.
William took a hesitant step forward and cleared his throat. Grell lifted her head to look at him again and raised an eyebrow. "I want you to know, Sutcliff, that if what upset you was the case you were given, you should let me know so I do not assign you a similar one in the future," Grell smiled faintly. "So that we won't have to send people to clean up and make sure a demon doesn't get the soul next time," William added quickly, suddenly embarrassed by what he said.
"Of course. All you care about is work," She sneered. "Don't worry about your employees. You don't even care enough to know why I'm upset, you only ask because it's your job."
"I should not become personal with any of my employees," he said slowly. "I apologize if I offended you in any way."
"I think I should just summon my scythe and kill you right now. What reason do I have to let you stay? I am a 'Death God' and I should celebrate that someone decided I deserved this second shot at life. What better way to celebrate that than kill people?"
William was confused. She should be showering him with affection and proclaiming her love, not threatening him halfheartedly. "Grell, are you... will you tell me what is wrong? I do not... like when you act like this. Not because it hinders work, but because you are upset. Crying does not suit you, Sutcliff."
He had tried to hide the use of her first name by ending it with her surname, but Grell noticed, and she smiled slightly. "Do you really want to know?"
He nodded slightly, sitting down on the edge of her bed. She squirmed farther away from him and stared at the ceiling. Her face was devoid of emotion and her voice was completely monotonous when she began to speak.
"When I died, I should not have become a reaper. Your lot does not hire murderers."