That's Supposed to be It
By Benji The Vampire Confuser.
Based on Dead Like Me and Final Destination.
Death has a plan. That's what they say. Well, the morbid ones who think about it all the time. And you know, the Undead. And he, she, fuck it, It does. Have a plan I mean. But I don't know how far ahead that plan goes. I only get the news on the day.
Everybody dies. That's the way it's meant to be. That's the way it has to be. I should know, I'm a Reaper. I've seen what happens if you screw with the plan. Maybe that's why Rube trusted me with the post-it job. Why I didn't go off the reservation when he got his lights and that idiot Cane took over.
I screwed up enough that I knew the consequences.
At least I wasn't responsible for the biggest screw-up of all.
George Lass' attention was divided between the hysterical young man being dragged off the plane along with several of his fellow passengers, and the Gravelings who were throwing a hissy fit. George had seen these things upset before. She'd seen them pissed. But never in her un-life had she seen them...well...panic.
She looked at her post-its. Half of those who'd just gotten off were people she had just reaped. She and Rube had divided this task among themselves. Sure it was a big group, but they were all pretty easy. Since everyone on the flight was supposed to die, all they had to do was reap everyone as they got on.
And now this had happened.
"What the fuck Rube?!"
Rube's scowl was as heavy as she'd ever seen it. "God fucking dammit." he swore quietly. Then he sighed. "Not our problem Peanut. Someone upstairs screwed up this time. The Gravelings will take care of it. Eventually." He nodded to the post-its. "Just hold on to those. Check-em every day, they'll let you know when to pick these folks up."
I still can't decide if knowing that management screws up sometimes is comforting or not.