Grim

Chapter 11 - The Graveyard

A quick look at the list tells me that I have some time to think about what the demon said, but I don't want to. I teleport to the next destination. The smoke accelerates at a speed I'm not used to. Red sparks fly around me so quickly I question if they were ever really there. The ripping at my soul lasts a few moments and is dulled to the point where it feels like a domestic animal scratching your skin over and over.

The smoke that blows out away from me seems more solid this time, like ashes that have burned away to nothing. I see gravestones as far as the holes that I assume once held eyes can see. I look down to see my feet floating over an open gravesite. Been there, done that. Funerals aren't any fun when you are newly dead. Especially not for a reaper who is trying to adjust to their new station in death.

"What art thou doing Reaper Thomas?"

The voice startles me, and I turn around to see Remiel leaning against a statue of an angel. It could have been carved in his image although the artist didn't have much skill. It looks like any generic angel. "I'm looking at you Remiel and your apparent twin."

The angel's wings expand a bit, and the likeness is almost exact. Remiel the generic angel. I would grin at the silent joke if I could. He responds, "Twin? What ist thou talking about?"

Remiel has always been sharp as a tack. "Nevermind. What is it that you want?"

"I am sent to ask whist thee art doing?"

I walk forward to put the bones in my feet on solid ground. I can float there indefinitely, but I have never liked to float anywhere. The feeling of the dirt beneath my feet reminds me of many things that help me keep my sanity. "I am doing my job. The lists have been strange this time. I want to discuss a few things with the council."

The angel squints his eyes at me. "Ye know only angels art allowed."

"Perhaps they may make an exception considering my circumstances."

"Exception? Ye must be making a joke. The council knows of thy situation."

The council can be enfuriating sometimes. "If they know then what are they intending to do?"

The angel puts on his best poker face. "Nothing. What ist thy intentions?"

I'm at a loss for words. I thought the angels would have the answer for this problem. If the council knows of this predicament then surely God knows as well. Perhaps I have all I need to solve this on my own? I'm starting to second guess everything. "My intention is to send these souls to where they belong, but I'm not sure where that may be. One was never on a list as far as I know, and the other I'm not sure. I think the lists may have been tampered with."

The angel's eyes widen. "That ist impossible! The list ist crafted with a sharpened angel's quill and written in bloo.." The angel stops and focuses his eyes on me once more before continuing. "It ist impossible. Give me the lists."

I hesitate. "I still have work to do. I cannot abandon these souls."

The angel puts his hand out. "Thine own soul is at stake reaper. Worry about thyself."

The angels don't seem to have any answers, and I know the demons lie as if they are breathing. Who can I really turn to? I pull the lists out, but instead of handing them over I walk next to the angel and hold them so we both can read them. "What are you looking for angel?"

Remiel squints his eyes. "These lists look valid, but there art smudges. See?" He points them out. "I must take them for inspection."

I look at the angel. "What about the souls?"

The angel snatches the lists and then teleports away. Leaving me in the hopeless graveyard wondering where to go and what to do now.