hey guys, chapter 4 as promised. it's a bit shorter than the others, sorry bout that. but it was either cut it off then or have a ten page chapter, which doesn't really work in this fic.
a/n: if you've never seen Dead Like Me (which is where the whole "reaper" thing comes from,), and you have questions on this fic that i've somehow managed to miss, please drop me a line so i can explain or fix the story.
disclaimer: so not mine. neither Dead Like Me nor The O.C. never will be mine, no copyright infringement intended.
rating: T, still. mostly language, violent/disturbing deaths. not quite M.
author: that's me.
feedback: AH! yes please. it makes me happy, and i LOVE all of you people who have reviewed already. i'm serious. OO
--
Chapt. 4
"You could get a job," Byron suggested to Marissa, shoveling an almost whole waffle into his mouth. Marissa grimaced as syrup came spilling from his mouth, and Raleigh laughed loudly. It actually sounded more like a bark.
"Well, duh, but it takes time to get a job," Wanda put in, as she noticed Marissa looking rather sick. The poor girl was stuck sitting right in between Byron and Raleigh. The Pig and the Kid…and Marissa. Wanda was standing and leaning on the table, while Colton filled out their index cards. He noticed Wanda glancing over his shoulder, and gave her a polite smile.
"But it's the best way to earn money," he turned to Marissa, "and, no offense, Marissa, but you kind of need money."
"Hey, now, I don't mind providing for a homeless Marissa," Wanda interjected, shoving Colton gently. He smiled and nodded knowingly.
"For now you don't mind," he shot at her, wiggling his finger menacingly before handing each reaper their cards. Marissa took hers without a word and tried to get out of the booth, only to be blocked by Byron, who was still sitting.
"Amphf quat doof foo fink wooat id?" he asked, his mouth still full of half-chewed waffle as he pointed to his card. Colton gave him a look as more than syrup dribbled from his mouth, and Marissa looked away, disgusted. Raleigh busted his gut as he erupted into laughter.
"Beg your pardon?" Wanda asked, completely uninterested in the situation. Byron swallowed.
"I said: 'And what do you think that is?'" he motioned to his index card, which, they all realized, was sitting in a huge glob of buttery maple syrup. Colton decided to play dumb.
"An index card?" he asked innocently. Byron glared at him huffily.
"No shit. I mean, why'd you put it in the syrup?"
"Well, it's not my fault, I certainly didn't put the syrup there," Colton said, eyeing Byron's dripping chin. Byron went slack-jawed, before composing himself and then opening his mouth with another come back.
"Oh my god I do not have time for this!" Marissa erupted. Without a second thought, she pushed Byron, hard, and he quickly stumbled out of the booth.
"Geez, Riss, you don't need t-"
"Don't call me that!" Marissa snapped, before grabbing her purse and leaving the diner. It was a different one than the one they had been in last night…well, earlier that morning. But it kind of reminded her of the Crab Shack, and thinking of that made her feel homesick, which, consequentially, was one feeling she'd never thought she'd have, considering what "home" had always used to insinuate.
Marissa walked out onto the street, bored and tired, but having a job to do. She glanced at her watch and then at her index card. R.K. Scholls was scheduled to die at 10:36 am, and it was 10:02. The place was at one of the smaller malls. It was close by, and, sighing heavily because this was L.A and no matter how small the item, it would cost a fortune, Marissa headed to the mall.
It was a fairly new place, with a huge fountain centerpiece that reached two floors high, and music blaring from every clothing store. It still had that "new mall" smell and the floors were incredibly shiny and waxed. Marissa felt extremely out of place as she walked in. But she was Marissa Cooper! Glancing at herself in one of the glass showcases, Marissa sighed. No, I am not Marissa Cooper, not any more. She thought more to her reflection than to herself. Sure, she was still the same height, somewhat the same body (although she was pretty sure she went up a cup size), same hair (but a shade or two lighter), a deep tan…but she was also very different. The eyes gazing back at her were a deep blue, with heavy lashes that didn't require mascara and a squarer facial build. She was still pretty, no doubt. But Marissa definitely wanted her old body back. She sighed as she walked away. She had a little under a half hour to kill before someone in the mall would get killed. Or something.
After wandering for what felt like hours and feeling poorer than ever, Marissa knew that she needed to find R.K. Scholls, who, according to her index card, would be meeting his or her doom out in front of a store known as "Shark Bates". Marissa consulted a map and then walked to her destination with about forty seconds to spare. Glancing around quickly, she grabbed some random woman from the people walking by her.
"Excuse me, but do you happen to be Ms. Scholls?" she asked the woman casually, as though she had heard of Ms. Scholls before.
"Why, yes, that's me," the woman said, looking surprised that this strange girl knew who she was. Marissa grinned. Sometimes fate threw her a bone. But now Marissa needed an excuse for having pulled this woman aside.
"I was told to look for a Ms. Scholls to take one of our grand opening polls?" Marissa said to the woman finally, pulling something out of her ass. When R.K Scholls looked at Marissa, completely confused, Marissa faltered.
"Um, yes, we sent you a letter, Ms. Scholls?" Marissa consulted her index card, "Ronnie…Katherine Scholls, correct?" Marissa questioned, using the first names she could think of. Ms. Scholls smiled offhandedly.
"Sorry, hon, that's not me. The initials are correct, though," Ms. Scholls said, giving Marissa a small smile. Marissa smiled back charmingly.
"I'm terribly sorry for the mix-up, ma'am." She said apologetically, shaking the woman's hand and taking her soul before turning to go. Marissa glanced at her watch. What the fuck? It was 10:36 on the dot and nothing was happening. Slightly disgusted with the un-prompt-ness of death, Marissa started to stalk away.
"Oh shit, look out!" someone shouted from inside Shark Bates. Marissa turned her head just in time to see a yellow surf board rocket through the open door of the surf shop and imbed its nose into R.K. Scholl's head. She stumbled from the impact and hit the railing, the combined inertia and sheer force sending her over and falling onto the linoleum floor a whole story below. People gasped and ran, some screamed, but Marissa only saw the dark-haired girl who had yelled the "oh shit" still muttering it, pick up the phone to call an ambulance. Marissa recognized her from somewhere…
Jodie. Marissa's eyes widened. Where there was a Jodie, was there perhaps an Alex? Did Jodie and Alex even hang out anymore? And why did Marissa care, anyway?
"Um, what happened?" a small voice asked from behind her. Marissa jumped, slightly surprised.
"Well…" Marissa said, turning to look at Ms. Scholls, "You're dead." She finished, lamely and bluntly, not much wanting to explain about what had just happened.
--
so, what do you think? love it, hate it? can't understand a word i'm trying to say? the same ransom stands for the release of the next chapter. at least one review.
