A forgetful little girl in a crimson dress played on the beach. She had long black hair and wore a blue scarf around her neck to protect herself from the cold winter winds. It was almost close to sunset and she was busy building something that looked like an oddly shaped sand castle. She was all alone on the vast deserted beach but she didn't care because she was really engrossed with the construction process. Whatever it was that she was building it seemed really important to her. Up till now all she'd managed was to build was a slightly wavy circle which was about six feet in diameter. It looked as if it could form the base of the castle but even the girl wasn't sure what it would eventually turn into. She felt that she needed to build it before she forgot what it was she wanted to build. Her mother had told her that she had some strange illness that constantly made her forget things.
She didn't live too far, in fact she could see her house right there from the beach if she just turned and looked towards her left. It was a tall gothic manor that stood on a small hill at the end of the beach. She lived there with her mother and a whole bunch of other kids. The little girl wasn't sure if the woman she called Mother was in fact her mother since every one of the hundreds others she lived with called the woman, Mother, but it didn't matter, the woman was kind and she took good care of them and at that very moment she was walking up to her.
"Aren't you going to come home, sweetheart? It's getting dark outside, wouldn't want you getting lost now, would we?" the woman she called Mother said to her.
"No Mother, but I didn't notice how dark it had gotten." the girl replied as she got up and wiped the sand off her knees and dress.
"And look at you, you haven't even taken a bath since you got back and now you're all covered in sand." Mother scolded the little girl.
"Sorry mother, I won't do it again. Next time I'll take a bath before I come to play. It's just that on the way back I felt like I had to build something, but now I don't remember what it was."
"Oh, that's alright. Even I forget things sometimes. You'll remember it tomorrow. Now come along, I don't want you getting late for dinner. You know how grumpy everyone gets if dinner is served late and you do have an early day tomorrow, remember." the woman tried sounding stern but the girl knew she cared.
The little girl just nodded and walked back with her to the manor. Besides Mother was right, she did have an early day tomorrow. They were quite poor and so all the children of the house had to work, no exceptions. Tomorrow she had the early shift at the factory.
As they walked away a wave washed up on the shore and wiped away whatever little she had built. The little girl never noticed it. She was busy thinking about what she was going to get for supper because along the way to the manor her stomach had started to growl at her for ignoring it for so long. By the next morning she had forgotten all about her little construction project on the beach and the sea had left no evidence that such a project had ever been undertaken.
The girl in the crimson dress worked many jobs. She worked at a factory which made equipment of all sorts. Everything from knives and blades to machines for chopping and sewing. Her mother had told her that her little hands were perfect for building the more delicate tools that the factory made. Sometimes her mother would send her to other places. A garment factory, a large lumber yard where she was occasionally asked to chop small pieces of wood and even a small factory that made all manners of switches and levers. But that place had major issues with the power supply, or so she thought, because every time she would test out a switch the lights would flicker even though they weren't connected to anything, sometimes she would even hear a faint distant scream but there was no one there besides her and the other children. She usually just wrote it off as her imagination playing tricks on her.
The little girl was particularly good at sewing, that was her favorite job and even though a lot of times she felt as if what she was stitching didn't feel like cloth but it didn't bother her. She was a good worker and she wanted to make Mother happy.
On their days off the children would go out and play games, mostly war games. But there would also be other games, games that almost seemed like magic. There were game masters who would teach them various combat skills for their next game. It was the most fun they would have. Mother had told her she was really good at being stealthy, so she would play the assassin in the games. Sometimes she would wonder how many times she had played these games but most she had no memory of having ever played them, so each game was new, no matter how often they were repeated. She would always get surprised how quickly she and the other kids would pick up the skills. Mother always said that we're all just really smart.
But every evening on her way back home she would pass the beach and would feel the need to go and build a sand castle. She would never remember what exactly was it that she had built previously since the sea never left a trace of what she had built the previous day but nevertheless every evening she would tirelessly start anew. Some days she would get further than others before Mother would come looking for her and take her back home for supper and she would once again forget why she was on the beach to begin with.
And so her days passed, her mornings and afternoons occupied with sewing, chopping and flipping switches and her evenings spent on the beach constructing her mysterious sand sculpture.
She had no recollection of how many days had passed since she never kept a count, but then she also never aged. She always looked the same and she always wore the same crimson dress. Those things never changed. Some days late at night she would look at herself in the mirror and wonder how old she was but by the next morning all those thoughts were long gone from her mind. It was just another day and she had a job to do and she enjoyed her many jobs.
She was the same as every other child in that vast manor. They all wore the same clothes, they all never aged and none of them had names. Mother had told her that she wasn't old enough to have a name yet, that a name was something that she would have to earn. She had once asked her how she could do that and Mother had told her that she would have to figure that out herself. So for now she was just a number.
She was number 42.
The little girl with the crimson dress who never changed, but Mother had noticed that lately something had changed, 42 had started carrying her blue scarf with her to work. She knew that she would need it later when she would end up on the beach.
That was a change from her routine and change was a good thing.
And so every evening without fail the little girl would end up on the beach and everyday she would manage to build a little more. Soon she had constructed something large enough that ocean couldn't wash it all away, but she still couldn't exactly make out what it was that she wanted to build. She knew one thing for sure that it wasn't a castle. The more she built the more it looked like she was building a person, a statue of someone she might have once met in a long forgotten dream.
Then one day she did not return home. She went to the beach after work and just stayed there building. Mother saw her from the window of the manor and decided not to disturb her. She wanted to see how far 42 would go before she gave up, but the little girl never gave up. She remained on the beach reconstructing that long forgotten dream. She wanted to know who this figure was that plagued her mind. The night turned to day and again to night and for five days the little girl stayed on the beach. She never went to work, she never ate, she just built her dream.
And then it was done, but she couldn't recognize who it was. It was massive statue, nearly ten feet tall. It was a tall figure in a cloak holding a scythe. She knew the figure was familiar but she just couldn't put a name to the face. The little girl just stood there trying to jog her memory but nothing shook loose. Finally, Mother showed up.
"Hello sweetheart, looks like you finished it."
"Yeah" 42 replied proudly.
"Does it have a name?" Mother asked.
"I don't know. I think I know it but I can't quite remember it. Do you know it, Mother?"
The tall woman shook her head.
"Sorry, honey. It's your work, looks like you'll have to name it yourself."
The little girl nodded and remained standing in front of the giant statue. After a while Mother spoke.
"I think it's time you came back to the house. Your meal's getting cold. You can think up a good name for it tomorrow, alright?"
"Okay." The girl replied softly and followed Mother back to the manor. She was extremely tired after all.
The little girl was certain she knew the name, it was on the tip of her tongue. She spent her entire dinner thinking about it. In fact she spent the days thinking about it. Every day on her way back from work she would stop at the beach and try remember the name of her statue and every night she slept not having recalled the name.
Until one night at dinner she finally spoke up.
"The Ferryman."
Mother was serving dinner to one of the numbers and she stopped and looked at 42.
"What did you say, dear?" she asked.
"The Ferryman. That's the name, that's what it's called."
"Your statue on the beach? That sounds like a good name. Are you sure that's what you want to call it?"
The little girl paused. She felt like she was still missing something. She stood up and ran out of the house onto the beach. By the time she reached it she was completely out of breath. The beach was well lit by the moonlight except there were two moons in the sky and one of them had a ring around it. She looked up in surprise wondering why she'd never noticed it before but right now she had more pressing matters to attend to. She had finally named her creation but the name somehow seemed incomplete.
"What's wrong, sweetheart, I thought you liked the name?" Mother said.
The woman had followed her onto the beach but didn't seem out of breath at all.
"I don't know, the name just seems incomplete. I know she's the Ferryman but she also has a proper name and it's a beautiful name too."
"She?" Mother said.
42 hadn't realised but she'd just referred to the statue as a woman even though there were no physical characteristics on the sculpture that would indicate it's gender. But the girl was sure of it.
"Yes, it's a woman," she replied confidently, "I'm sure of it."
"Well it's getting late now. I'm going to bed. If you figure out a name for this ferryman or whatever you want to call it, you let me know." saying that Mother turned and began to walk back to the manor.
She had barely taken ten steps when she heard the little girl whisper something. She stopped and turned around.
"Did you say something, honey?"
"I remembered her name."
"Really, what is it?"
The little girl paused for a minute, she wanted to be sure. She somehow felt that if she gave the wrong answer Mother might not be very happy with her.
"Sameen." she replied softly.
"Are you sure?" Mother asked .
"Yes, " the little girl replied as her confidence grew, "her name is Sameen and I used to know her. I don't know how or when I did know her and then I lost her somehow."
Mother looked at her and smiled.
"It happens, sweetheart, sometimes we lose things along the way and then it takes us a very long time to find them again. Maybe it's time you found some other things you lost too."
"What else did I lose, Mother?" 42 asked.
"Your name. It's time you found your name too."
"But where do I look for it?" the little girl sounded lost. All of this was too sudden. She was finding it hard to deal with all this new information. She suddenly had this urge to just go back to the manor, finish her meal and go to bed. She didn't want to be late for work at the factory.
"Just go through there," Mother pointed at the woods at the other end of the beach, "and you'll find it."
"But won't I be late for work tomorrow?" She asked, still scared to break the norm.
Over time she had grown accustomed to her routine. There was a comfort in it. She still wasn't sure if she was ready to move away from it but something told her that this was important. So she gathered up her courage, turned around and walked into the woods.
Mother looked on till the little girl vanished into the woods and then she too promptly disappeared. She knew that her master would be most pleased with this development.
The forest was dense but there was a clear path through it. It was silent and seemed completely devoid of any kind of animals. The little girl walked through it towards her unknown destination and as she walked she began to change. She began to grow. She also started to develop a massive headache as she started getting flashes of memories that seemed as if they might be her own but she couldn't remember doing any of the stuff.
The memories belonged to a tall brunette. She didn't seem like a very nice person. The little girl saw her killing people, lots of people. But then she also saw her with someone else. She saw her with the ferryman. The tall woman knew her, she knew Sameen. They looked happy together. As the girl walked on she grew even more but barely realised it as her mind kept flooding with memories of a long forgotten life. She was finally nearing the end of her path and saw a small cottage at the end of it. She figured that's where she might find her name so she walked towards it.
The little girl, now a fully grown woman and also dressed like the grown woman from her new memories, reached the cottage and knocked on the door. She waited, but no one answered. She knocked again but the result was the same. She finally decided to try the doorknob and to her surprise it was open. She walked in and was greeted by the smell of freshly cooked meal and she realized she was famished. She was about to walk in when she stopped and looked at herself in the mirror and she finally recognized herself and remembered where she was.
"Ms. Groves, so glad you could join us." said a voice from inside the living room. Root walked in and there sitting close to a fireplace was a person she ever expected to see again, at least not in the world of the living, but this wasn't that.
"Elias?"
"Hello Root. I told you we'd meet again."
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"Well, I kinda run the place."
"You're the Devil?"
"Well, that's one of the names but yes" Elias smiled.
"So what was all of that, back on earth. The gangs and everything else."
"That, that was just me having some fun. I do get bored of the routine every now and then."
"And Harold, did he know."
"Oh absolutely. Me and Harold have been friends for ages. Let's just say we left our old organization at the same time or rather we were fired at the same time." Carl laughed a little.
Root looked lost. She didn't know what she was supposed to do. This was all a little too much.
"Why don't we have some dinner and talk about your future with this organisation." Carl said as he motioned her towards the dinner table.
Root turned around to walk towards it and saw that Kara was already waiting for her at the table.
"Hello Mother" Root said sarcastically.
Kara just smiled back in return.
"So what now?" Root asked as she sat down and began to serve herself.
"Well, you passed the test. You're now officially a demon. Now we put you to work." Kara replied.
"Wait, it was all a test, you erased my memories and put me to work in a factory and waited for me to remember everything, what kind of test is that?"
"For starters it's a good way for you to gain the basic skills without getting bored. If you never spot the routine you never get bored and also if you never regain your memories then you were never strong enough in the first place. Either ways we get skilled labour for a very long time."
"What do you mean long time? I was in that factory for barely a few years."
Kara chuckled.
"Is that what you thought, a year or two. My dear girl you've been here for four thousand years and you should be impressed with yourself. Most drones take over six to eight thousand years to wake up. In your case I'd say you were quite motivated." Kara smiled knowingly.
Root sat there stunned by the knowledge. It couldn't have been that long. She tried to remember her time and then it all came flooding back. She saw all of it. Hundreds upon thousands of children, all having the same blank stare, torturing millions upon countless millions using a multitude of tools and techniques. It all looked like one massive, fucked up boot camp and she felt strangely unaffected by any of it. Maybe that's what it had all been about.
Mental and physical conditioning.
Hell had trained her without her having ever realized it. But she still couldn't get over the fact that she'd been there for that long.
"Four thousand years." Root said softly, still trying to come to grasp with the number.
"Relax Ms. Groves, it's not that long. That's about three centuries in the outside world. In case no one ever told you, time moves differently here. That way we get to torture people a lot longer and train demons a lot faster in regards to earth time."
Root was equally stunned by that piece of news as well.
"Three hundred years, God, how much has the world changed. Do we have flying cars. Did the world drown, you know global warming and all that shit?" Root knew she was babbling.
Even though she was glad that it had only been a few centuries and not forty but three hundred years was still a long fucking time.
"Yes to both your questions. Humans do have flying cars and yes parts of the world are now submerged under water. All those climate change deniers most of them are with us now. I like putting them on top of a slowly melting iceberg in shark infested waters. It's fun watching them try to swim to safety and the get ripped to shreds. But the good news is that Humanity did get to Mars. In fact they have a colony there now. Oh and we don't say the "G" word here."
"Wow, that's fantastic. So what now? What does a Demon do?" Root asked.
"It depends upon the job you're given. Since you like hunting I'm going to put with our team of bounty hunters."
"Bounty hunters, what do you lot need to hunt. Wait, are you telling me people actually manage to escape hell."
"Yes, you see no prison is perfect. Sooner or later some genius always manages to figure a way out. That's where you come in. Ms. Stanton will explain the details to you. And I haven't given you the best news yet, you'll get to go back to the world of the living."
Root was ecstatic upon hearing that piece of information. She no longer needed to plan her escape. But a funny thought crossed her mind.
"What if I don't come back, what would you do then?" Root asked tentatively.
Carl smiled.
"Where would you go Ms. Groves. Run away with the reaper and then what. Last time I check the reaper is a very busy creature. It's always out there collecting and delivering souls, what would you do when it's out. Wait at home like the faithful housewife. You would need something to occupy your time and last I checked you liked hunting people and these will all be bad people. They have escaped from hell after all."
His argument did make sense, what would she do with her time.
"So, you wouldn't mind if I got together with Sameen?"
"Oh Ms. Groves, you'll find Hell to be quite understanding." Carl smiled and replied.
Root was overjoyed. She couldn't wait to get back to earth.
She had a promise to keep.
Death was still waiting but it no longer waited for the maiden. It had been over three centuries since Root had stepped through the gates of hell and Sameen had finally made peace with the fact that she wouldn't be coming back. Even though she did on occasion find herself on the shores of hell hoping for the gates to open and for Root to return.
No, she no longer waited for Root but she was waiting, she was waiting for Cole to show up who was late and Sameen was about to lose her patience when he finally showed up.
"You're late."
"Sorry, boss. Got tied up running some errands."
"What errands, you were at that stupid show weren't you?"
Cole looked back at her sheepishly.
"Sorry boss, but I couldn't help myself. Everyone keeps saying how great it is. I just had to watch it for myself. It's pretty great if you ask me."
"It's stupid and inaccurate and the actress playing Root looks nothing like her."
"I thought you weren't interested."
Sameen stared at him furiously.
"Alright, you need to get back to work. Looks like someone just passed away not too far from here."
"Could you do it boss, please. I promised some guys I met at the mall that I'll have drinks with them. It's just a few hours and then I'll be back on duty. Please" Cole looked at her with puppy dog eyes.
Sameen just shook her head in disbelief.
"Fine. But you're handling the water zones for the next month, understand. I hate being wet all the time."
"Yes, ma'am." Cole replied and saluted.
Sameen smiled grudgingly and vanished.
It was late at night and Death was outside a small house on the side of the street. That was it's destination. There was nothing particularly interesting about the house or it's occupant. An elderly man who lived alone, and by the looks of the house really liked computers and gadgets. It looked like another day at the job except that Sameen could sense the presence of another.
A demon.
This was most unusual. Demons rarely interfered with a pick up. If they wanted to do something to the soul they could always wait till the soul was dropped off at it's intended destination. As they said, there was always a gap between the cup and the lip. If they wanted to steal a soul they could do it at the very gates of heaven and it had been done, but no one ever interfered with a pick up. But that wasn't the only issue. The house was crawling with shadow creatures. That was something she hadn't seen since she was back at Root's apartment. It almost made her feel nostalgic.
She readied herself and entered the house. She was half expecting the demon torturing the poor soul. If that was the case it would have a lot to answer for. Sameen did not tolerate such things, not on her watch. But to her surprise there was no soul. There was a relatively old man, probably in his late sixties and he looked perfectly alive.
He was sitting calmly on a sofa and sitting next to him was a tall demon, almost feminine in appearance. They were talking.
As Sameen came closer she could hear the demon talk.
"Thanks, Harry"
"A pleasure, Ms. Groves." Finch replied.
"Oh, and Carl says he's got the chessboard ready."
It was then that Harold noticed Sameen.
"Reaper, I do apologize for the subterfuge but someone wanted to surprise you." Harold said with a smile.
Sameen was rooted in place. This wasn't possible. But then the demon turned around and transformed simultaneously.
"You know, you never told me how you became Death?" the demon grinned and asked.
"Root?"
"Hey Sameen, I know I'm late in keeping my word but I did say I shall return." Root smiled as she looked at Sameen's stunned face.
"But how... did you escape?" Sameen was still trying to get her brain to function at normal speeds again.
"Not really, it's like they say, if you can't beat them, join them."
Root walked up to Sameen and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and started walking towards the door. Sameen rubbed her cheek to make sure that this was really happening.
"I promise I'll tell you all about it, after all we have the rest of eternity, but right now we have to go or we'll be late."
"Late, late for what?" Sameen turned around and asked.
"Oh, I asked Cole to get me tickets for some stage play. I wanted to take you out on a date. It's called Death and the Maiden. He said it's really good. So, are you coming?" Root didn't really wait for an answer. She just walked out of the door.
Death stood there for a second and then eventually ran after the maiden trying to catch up. After all they had a lot of catching up to do.
THE END