After a while of gazing at him I realised he was speaking, and tried to catch up to what he was saying
“…So you understand why we can’t let you go…at least not just yet. With so much uncertainty if we got it wrong…well, we’d look pretty foolish”
First thing that struck me was that for such a beautiful creature he sure had a hellish voice. It was almost painful, a grown man looking as he did. I guess he saw the look on my face as he vanished, soon to be replaced with a very serious looking man in a black suit his black hair streaked with grey and a weary look on his face. I recognised him instantly.
“Mr Willis?”
The only teacher ever to get through to me, Mr Willis had always done his best with our class. If not for him I would never had got taken into the insurance firm where I worked till recently. Last I had heard he had died of old age, but here he looked just as I remembered him. When I asked about this he just smiled his knowing smile
“You never did pay attention did you. Its all to do with morphic resonance and…”
He talked for a few minutes, using lots of technical mumbo jumbo that I won’t bother to repeat. In lay-men’s terms, when we reach the afterlife we take on whatever image we feel we should. We only keep our “death face” till we realise this. Sounded good to me at the time, but its trickier than it sounds. Especially if you try to change something. After a few failed attempts of giving myself a cool scar I gave up and let my body revert to what I looked like prior collision.
“Well Willis, why are you here”
I asked, fairly understandably considering he died two years ago. Surely people weren’t forced to wait so long?
He glanced over at a new arrival, nodding understandably at the aged citizen. He finally answered
“You never change do you? Always questions after questions after questions. Heh, I don’t blame you. You’re here because your soul is perfectly balanced. It isn’t good enough to reach heaven, but no where near evil enough to go to hell. Thus you have two choices. You can take my route, and sit it out, helping the deceased come to terms with death…”
I couldn’t believe it, even in death he was helping others. What a guy.
“…or you can go back to earth, taking on…lets just call it a physical aspect of the job.”
I looked perplexed, till it finally dawned on me what he was talking about.
“wait…you want me to go back and become a killer?”
“Not a killer, a reaper of souls. It would become your job to usher souls to this plane”
“Oh great, I wouldn’t l kill people, just take their souls. Come on, I’ve seen Wishmaster one, two and three! I know what people do to souls”
He laughed at me, I almost broke his nose. Then I remembered why I was here. Hitting someone may well just push my soul to hell
“You don’t understand, it’s not killing, its not soul stealing. Think of it as a administrative job. You would help people get past the hardest step. You’d help them let go.”
He romanticised the job, using words such as “freedom for the masses” and “kinder acts than any of life”. I got the feeling he’d given this speech before.
Eventually I gave up, shook his hand, donned the midnight jacket and sat atop the bike. That’s one perk of being a modern reaper. Gone is the cowl and midnight steed, hello shiny new motorbikes and outfits that make the hells angels weep into their bandana’s. Eventually I got my first assignment, but I didn’t like it, not one bit.
“My father? Oh come on! I can’t reap my father”
Willis, who had now taken over as my adviser, shook his head sadly
“You made your choice. Its this or banishment”
Long boring story short It was no where near as bad as it could have been. Me?
I got sent back down to heaven as a the grim reaper, and am currently at a masked Ball. It’ll go great till midnight. That’s when they expect me to take the skull mask off…

That party was…I hate to say it… to die for. Drink, Drug, Women and being a dead guy doesn’t stop me enjoying every last minute. And here’s for why. You have all been to parties no doubt, you have all been to other peoples. And there’s always one guy or girl, kinda aloof, kinda alone, just sat there looking gorgeous. If you try to talk to them, learn some history, you get a half assed reply and stop caring. Next time it happens, keep digging, keep trying to find out what’s what. You get lucky, you find out that they, like me, died awhile back and are there because its their night off. Admittedly, you get unlucky and that reaper your talking to may decide they want to do some off duty reaping…

Anyway, After the party I got down to business…my first reaping. I know the stereotype, person dies, goes to the afterlife and comes back years later, everything’s different, etc etc…it ain’t like that. You think whatever god is in charge (never did find out…) can do all he or she does and find a little something like space and time a hindrance? I have heard tell of guys whose first job was themselves. In some respects I got lucky, though I didn’t think that then…