The Soul Collector
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Death sounded like a nice guy but one cut off from any sort of interaction with people. He carried away souls that 'rolled into his arms' or called him names. This is my take on that narrator and an existence of thankless drudgery and repetition.
This is just what I have so far. I need to work on the beginning a bit but it's been so long since I've posted anything that I thought I'd just put it up and see what everyone thinks.
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Another human who had caught my interest had also loved books. She had devoted her life to the written word and in death I had surrounded her with what had given her the most joy. Friends, family, words.
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"You may read whichever takes your fancy."
"What? Why?"
She appeared stunned at the offer. Perhaps I didn't look like the kind of being that promoted pleasurable pastimes.
"You enjoy reading."
Her head tilted, as if she was examining me, as if I was a curiosity she could explain to herself with just another moment of study. "Don't you?"
Do I? I haven't read often enough to form much of an opinion. Books were filled with the imaginings of humans. Lives played out on paper in mirrors of the lives played out with blood and sweat. And sooner or later all those lives came to me. "I haven't the time."
"But you've got all these wonderful books," she argued. She thought it incomprehensible.
No-one ever argues with me over books.
Spare me. It's not my time. I'm not ready. Who gave you the right to decide my fate? These I was familiar with. But why do I not read more? I was at a loss on how to answer.
"You do not seem concerned that you are dead."
She lifted and dropped her shoulders in disinterest. "I'll get used to it."
If I was in the habit of tilting my head in curiosity, I would do so now. Such a blasé comment from one who could have expected to have had her whole life ahead of her. She should have been anticipating growing old and watching her descendants mature and have offspring of their own. Not calmly stating that she would 'get used to it'.
Death frightened most, others welcomed my arrival with relief. It was as if I had informed her that the Pearly Gates were closed so we would be using the opalescent door. I think I would have gotten a shrug from her for that as well.
"Death is not transient like life. There is no more after this." I wanted her to understand.
"Okay." My efforts were dismissed with a friendly smile. Something else that didn't happen often while the newly deceased stood in my shadow. "So why don't you take the time to read more?" she asked. I could see she was going to press the issue.
Were other humans this peculiar and I simply hadn't noticed? I don't think I like that thought. One instance was as diverting as it was strange but I wouldn't want them often enough for me to become accustomed to them. She was still smiling at me, patiently waiting on an answer.
"I haven't the time."
She rolled her eyes. I had just reaped her soul from its mortal casing and she wasn't even a bit intimidated by me or my robe of shadows?
"So you said, but you could always make time, couldn't you?"
"It is not so simple. My work will end only when the race of men cease to die."
"Oh." She deflated. A melancholy air surrounded her and as I thought on how to chase it away, she was a decent soul entitled to a content existence after-all, she smiled again and suggested brightly and full of enthusiasm, "What if I help you?"
"Help…me?" what a foreign concept. Help. Humans did it all the time. Not me.
"Yeah, I could…um…I don't suppose you do any paperwork?"
"No."
"I could carry things?"
"I do not carry."
She continued to offer up ideas on how she could assist me complete my task more efficiently. "I don't suppose it would help if I followed you around and gave words of encouragement? You know, like; great job, hang in there, atta boy, go get 'em. That sort of thing?"
At. A. Boy. I think I have heard that idiom before. Was she proposing companionship? I had never had a companion before. Only the souls who wanted to be away from me and on to their next adventure as soon as possible.
If she was willing I would give it a try. "I have never had someone to travel with me."
"So I can come?"
Only... "It is not always clean. You were not destined for sorrow after death."
"But if you're dealing with all that by yourself…I find that concerning."
I had thought this one would be trouble. It wasn't what I would have liked for her first experience of my existence but I was already behind.
I am rarely surprised. So when she stepped in front of the irate spirit and smiled that disarming smile of hers, I will admit that I was surprised. I had prepared for an argument I would spend precious moments winning, all the while putting myself further behind in my work load. Instead she smiles at him, declares, "You're gonna love the afterlife!" before latching onto his arm and dragging him after her.
It was comical to watch her pause and turn to me with an impish grin.
"Um…where are we going?" she asked.
I waved my scythe and the colours blended and reformed to the inside of a publican house.
She looked at the soul, nose crinkled in distaste at her surroundings before shrugging it off and remarking, "Too each his own I guess."
"This is the afterlife?"
"I had books. But I guess if you like beer you like beer. Enjoy!"
Before I knew it she was bouncing on her heels at my side.
"Next?" I offered.
Her smile grew wider.
Beneath my hood, I smiled too.
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Death was no longer lonely.
Now he would come to you with the light of life. A light itching to hug you and make it all better with a smile and reassuring hand. And another hug.
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