"You're going to have to give me more than that. What's a Guardian? What's a Reaper? Why is this being put on me? I'm just a person." He shakes his head and rests his chin on his hands then and stares at me like I was a dumb little kid. He didn't seem very sympathetic to my situation, to be honest."It's that kind of bluntness that got you here in the first place. The ability to be impartial is the number one requirement for both Guardians and Reapers. And you, my friend, are one of the most impartial ones of all. Certainly fitting for the last letter in the alphabet." He floats away a little then, spinning around in the air so he can hang upside down."What do you mean by the last letter?" I ask, annoyed. Why couldn't he be more clear? It should be obvious what questions I would have. He was giving me all this random information, and right after I'd just died. I literally felt like my head was still spinning."Each world is given a set number of Guardians and Reapers; this one happens to be twenty-six for us. It's easier to keep people organized if everyone has a single letter name, and there are only twenty-five of us Reapers now. You'll be the final one, the last letter of the alphabet."
"Z?" I raise a brow. I do not want that to be my name.
"Yup. But don't worry. You too can pick a name to go with it. Most of us do, we just use our letters in formal settings and for paperwork."I scoff. "I have to do paperwork as a Reaper?" York laughs loudly, flipping around in the air and resuming his original sitting position.
"That would be what you're worried about. Very on par with your personality as a human." I turn around then, running a hand through my hair and looking at the ground. Or lack thereof, I guess."What would I do as a Reaper?" I ask."I feel like it's pretty self-explanatory.""Humor me." I say flatly.
He sighs but complies. "The role of a Reaper is to guide dead souls to their next life. Your job is not to save them, or even really to make them feel better. We all have different approaches to this of course, but your only real goal is to get them to where they're supposed to be.""And where exactly do human souls go when they die?" I ask, spinning around in the air to look at him again. I've wanted to know this my entire life, like most people. I was pretty surprised we actually had souls, to be honest. I just thought it was all blood and tissue in there. I wonder where it was in me, and what it looked like. Was it some brilliantly shiny light in my core? Or maybe a shriveled up husk hiding in my colon.
"To another vessel. One not of the same world they came from. If you reap someone from here, you will never put them in another body from here. You'll be sent to another world and will reap a soul from there to bring back here.""And how will I do that?""Well hold on." He holds his hands up now. "I can't tell you just everything yet. Like I said, we're still in the transition part of this."
I roll my eyes. "What are my other options? Do I even have any?"
York nods firmly once. "You could always be put in another vessel. You really weren't a bad person in your life, so you'd be granted a choice this time around." How did he know if I was a bad person? As far as I was aware, this was the first time we were meeting."A choice? I could choose who I want to be?" He nods."Basically. You wouldn't retain your memories, obviously, but you'd be put in a vessel with a matching fate line to whatever is it you want out of your next life." He shrugs. "It's really not a bad deal. You never did anything cruel to anyone in your life, you're no one's enemy. And you really did save a stranger's life, no matter the thoughts you had about it afterwards." He smiles softly at me then, and I narrow my eyes.
"But." He leans really close to my face again, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. This guy was weird and had little respect for social norms. "Being a reaper, might finally make you special."My heart freezes, and I look up to meet his gaze.
"What did you say?" He grins, and floats around behind me to whisper in my ear.
"We both know you were nothing special in your human life. You were nothing but a pretty, sad face. What was your purpose in life? Hm? To intoxicate the public? If not for your last great act, your life would have been nothing but a straight line."This guy and my mom should seriously get together sometime. They had very similar views, it seems."I had no purpose. I've always known that." I mutter flatly. I could feel myself closing in, I could feel my defenses going up at hearing the same words I'd been hearing from my mom my whole life. I was fully prepared to shut my emotions off, tell myself it didn't matter, over and over again.Because it was true. I had always known that. The world wasn't any better or worse because I was in it. The sun didn't set for me, and the moon didn't rise so I alone could gaze upon it. I was just a raindrop in the ocean that was eternity.But I didn't know how much it bothered me to know all of that until I was already on death's door. What did I have to show for myself? What was I leaving behind? A couple grand in credit card debt and three months left on an apartment lease?And now, I was being presented with a choice. It was either call this soul a loss and move onto the next.Or pick up a scythe and contribute something to this chain of events we call life.