Given it is almost Nano time lets get our muse in gear.
I looked at the bowl of sparks of light swimming in a swirl. The bowl was actually a fish bowl and that found a little insulting. Like our souls were pets for his amusement. They likely were.
“Dare I ask why you have a bowl of souls on your desk?” I asked.
He shrugged and offered me a slight, thin smile. “I am the Grim Reaper.”
“Yeah, but you have to bring them to their afterlife, man. Not have them as a desk ornament.”
He gestured to the bowl, ‘Oh, these, well they are atheists and have nowhere to go. Eventually, I release them into the grand consciousness of the universe.”
“Ah,” I said. I was an atheist. Maybe I should get into some religion that had an awesome afterlife. I just couldn’t do it. Religions were more horrible than good. Too much horrible things to believe and judge people about to just have a cool afterlife. I could handle being one with the consciousness of the universe.
Unless that is what god was? Well, maybe I’d make my own religion on that then.
“So we have a problem,” he said, knitting his hands together and looking grim. Grim reapery.
“It isn’t my fault. I know there is some sort of grand scheme in the universe. And all these entities ensuring it all works like it should. Like you. And if so, then I am also part of the grand scheme of things. Am I right?” I said in my defence.
“No. That is not right. You are an aberration and you must cease and desist or you’ll be the next soul swimming in my bowl.”
I paled. I actually felt the blood just leave my face and felt a little clammy as well. “I can’t just let someone die in front of me when I can stop it.”
“You stuff their soul back inside them, Michelle Foster. It is unnatural. And in your job…”
“Which is saving lives,” I pointed out. I was an EMT.
He frowned at my interruption and continued, ‘Your mortal job enables you to do this frequently.”
“I don’t see the problem. We save people all the time with modern medicine. How is this any different at all?”
“Modern medicine saves someone when it is supposed to save someone. When it is your time it is your time. You are taking them back from the tunnel of death and forcing them back into life. Then they go about their lives, mortal, and do things they never would have, see people they never would have, affect events and people they never would have. It is changing the course of this timeline.”
“Ah. So. That sounds bad.”
“You could fragment this timeline. Not to mention I have to send a reaper to everyone you save and kill them again before they do any damage.”
“I see. I see. But it is like a calling. I cannot resist it.”
He put his finger to his lips and looked away for a moment in a surprisingly thoughtful look for a skull with glowing red eyes. “It is possible. Just possible you have reaper blood in you.”
“Me?” I said pointing to myself. “No. I’m French Scotish ancestry. With like a tenth Native American. No reaper in there at all.”
He stared at me intently with a searing look. I wanted to look away. I wondered if this was some sort of staring contest of intimidation. If so, he won.
“You do. I can see only one way out of this mess you have created.”
Don’t say death. Don’t say death.
“We will train you to become a reaper, half-breed. And you will do your duty to the universe and cull souls so they may be properly placed in their alternate reality.”
“You mean heaven?”
He laughed. “In this physical plane where would this heaven be? No, there are multiverses out there and they are reborn into the one that suits their understanding of an afterlife.”
Well, that was mindblowing.
“You do not have a choice, Michelle Foster,” he said.
“Well, being as there is no choice then I’ll do it.”
His skull face smiled. “Good! Welcome to the company. We will talk about benefits later.”
“Okay. So I can go now?”
“We have an extensive hundred year training course. You will be staying here.”
“Oh. Great. Sounds just great,” I said weakly.
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Prompt: When he walked into the cafe…
The Wyrd 