Ever hummed a pop tune that had been playing incessantly on radio as Death transported him to a reaping.
You’re in an awfully good mood.
In his mind, he kept replaying his ‘meltdown specials’ announcement. He still didn’t know where it had come from. In his two and a bit weeks of life on earth, it was his proudest moment so far.
*Why is a good mood awful?*
No that’s not… ugh, never mind. We’re here.
He walked by habit now, even though he didn’t need to in reaper form, his feet floating barely an inch off the ground. The ghost of a man stood in the middle of a nondescript suburban street, misty hands behind his back. Each house looked much like its neighbor. It was like they stood in solidarity, peering down their noses at the soul.
“Hello there Jim,” Ever said. He made a show of passing the scythe from hand to hand casually.
“Oh, it’s time to go,” the man said, glancing at Death’s apprentice. “I just…” his voice trailed off as he looked up at the window of the building he was standing in front of. It was a fancier part of town, with each house’s letters spelled out in writing underneath the post boxes. Twenty-three, Ever noted.
Ever stood next to him and followed his line of sight. Shadows danced across the drawn curtains. It looked like a young woman holding a baby aloft, dancing around the room.
The countless children that Ever had served, holding their hands out, wide eyed as Ever handed them their cone - it was rarely a cup - flowed through his mind.
“Is that your baby?”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“What? You kidding? Look at me! How old do you think I am?”
“The dead don’t age,” Ever replied.
“Yeah well,” the man sighed, patting his round tummy absentmindedly, “I would’ve been 50 this year. I didn’t plan on having a heart attack though.”
Ever cocked his head slightly. “Who attacked your heart, and with what?”
Jim raised his ghostly eyebrow, then sighed again, looking back up to the window. The shadows were gone for the time being.
“I guess… I attacked my own heart, with the emotions I felt from talking with my daughter.” In Ever’s hand, the scythe pulsed and came to life:
SENSES
Hearing
—--
—--
—--
—--
Oooh, new sense, Death remarked.
“Why did you attack your own heart?” Ever said, mentally selecting the ‘Hearing’ option and watching the menu disappear.
“It’s not like that, I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just… my daughter got knocked up. One of the several boyfriends she was seeing at the time. Can’t keep track of them.”
That means that she accidentally became pregnant and had a baby. Remind me to give you the talk about the birds and the bees later.
“No father wants to hear that some douchebag has gotten their little girl pregnant, of course I got angry. I was fuming. She was in tears, her mother was in tears. Next moment, I’m clutching my heart, then…” he fell down theatrically, eyes rolled back, tongue out.
Bravo! Ever could hear Death clapping his bony hands. I’m going to put this guy in the theatre crew once he comes into the Underworld.
“Look Death,” Jim said, getting back up with a groan, “could you do a guy a favor?”
“My name’s Ever.”
“Whatever, you got the curved sword thing. I’ve got a final message for my little girl. I just need her to hear me out one last time. Can you help me?”
