Humans seem to think I revel in my task of escorting the souls of the dead to their afterlives. But this isn’t the case.

My job takes me to places all over the world, but there is very little chance to rest. But there are benefits to this job that humans don’t realize. I get to visit every place where a human has died, which leads to beautiful sites.

The streets of Venice, the peak of Everest, the Pyramids of Egypt, the Gardens of Babalon. I’ve seen them all. When not working with death I soak in the life that I am grateful to experience. The culture humans have developed is fascinating. Their music, literature, cinema, language. All of these things have beauty in them.

While I am the deliverance of death, I am also an archive of human history, undying, never forgetting.

My job is to experience humans as they are in their final moments, but also to experience humans as a whole.

I am a traveler through human history, becoming a part of their culture, as much as they are of mine.

I cherish the lives of each human, and look forward to traveling with them and see where they’re future leads.

Max had been a grim reaper for a long time. He was basically the embodiment of death itself. He had beeen assigned hard tasks, killing criminals, killing random people, and even encountered celebrities that had made deals with the devil, which was why he had been assigned to kill them. Today was Max’s 62 birthday, which was the retiring year for all grim reapers. Max put his scythe in a small compartment that held all the scythes. Max rubbed his wrinkly hands. He liked being a grim reaper because it made him feel young again, and that youth had long past, and now his face was covered in defined and ugly wrinkles. His eyes had gotten bad enough that he needed glasses, and his hair and turned all white with age. He was almost completely bald, which annoyed him. He tried to stop it but he couldn’t. His dark brown eyes glistened in the castle of reapers. Big, elegant sculptures of grim reapers were in the center of the room. This was his retiring ceremony, and people filed into the room, in their full grim reaper uniform. Malinda sat in a chair by him, she was one year away from retirement and had been dreading her retirement ceremony ever since she turned 55. The other grim reapers gathered around the statue, and the head from reaper walked up. The head grim reaper was different, he wore a white cloak or robe but had a black, sleek scythe. It was the exact opposite of the normal grim reapers. He was starting to get old too, and his long white hair drooped out from his robe. His eyebrows had turned white as well. “Thank you for your service Max!” He says, pulling a metal around Max’s head. Max stared into the statue as the other grim reapers returned a happy but sad “fair well Max.” The clock ticked fast, and soon Max’s last day as a grim reaper would be over. Before he knew it, he was taking off his robe. The robe he had worn since day one, 40 years ago. Max’s eyes started to tear up and he stared into the dark holes that had formed in the robe from constant use. His arms were skinny and starting to sag down from old age. The sky had become beautiful blue and pinkish color as the sun continued to set. “I’ll miss you,” Malinda said, hugging his deteriorating body. The words touched Max. He had always had an interest in Malinda but he never had the chance to tell her, they were constantly assigned missions to kill people. Near the end of his time as a grim reaper, he was starting to fall behind and could barely keep up with how many missions he got.

The bells chimed in the large room. Max stood up, and walked out of the room. He passed the large stone pillars in which the building had, passed the elegant stone walls and the beautiful stained glass windows with unique patterns. He passed the marvelous architectural building which he had retired from fade away. He didn’t know what to do, that was the truth. In fact, he’d never done anything besides be a grim reaper. He hadn’t gone on a vacation since he was a kid. He missed his parents funerals because he was so invested in his job. Max started to realize how much had happened to the world in his absence. His sister had a baby, but he wasn’t there. He had missed so many Christmas’s, so many holidays he could’ve been spending with his family. He sacrificed all his time for his stupid grim reaper career. 
Max was starting to wonder if it was even worth it. He started walking down the newly paved roads that twirled down the big mountain that the building was located on. He could see his entire town, which it had grown so much. There was so many new houses and so many new things. He began to wonder what his house would look like after so many years of being away from it. Did he even have a house at this point? He used to think that being a grim reaper was his home — they provided service and sleeping quarters for all of them. Maybe Max should’ve spent more of his time enjoying his life, because now that he’s old and frail, he feels like he’s missed so much things. And it was true. He had missed everything…

The first thing Max did now that he was retired was visit his sister Sadie. Her hair had white highlights now, and she had developed very similar wrinkles to his. She was only 3 years younger, but she looked so much different. He barely recognized her.
Max stood in the front of the door, where Sadie questioned why he was even there. 
“I retired today,” he anxiously told her. 
“Oh, that’s great,” Sadie returned, clenching a locket in her hand. 
“What’s that?” Max asked.
“This…this is a locket I was given after our moms death,” she said. 
Max didn’t know why, but he swear she made another comment to him under her breath. Max ignored it.
“Do you want to come inside or are you just going to stand there?” She asked. 
“I’d be happy to come in,” Max says. 
Inside the house was very modernized, new stoves, new countertops, everything looks so new. He sat down at the kitchen table where Sadie made him a warm glass of tea in a fancy ceramic cup. 
“What has happened since I’ve been gone?” Max asked curiously.
It was the question he was dying to know now. He needed to know. 
“Well, my babies all grown up now. Our parents both died, 2 years ago, and you missed the funeral,” Sadie said, angrily. 
“I didn’t mean for you to get angry,” Max said, trying to clam her. 
“I’m sorry. I had to raise an entire baby all by myself while you were alone working at a job. You haven’t seen me in 40 years Max, how can I be happy? It was good seeing you but I think you should go now,” she said, gesturing toward the door. 
Max stood up from the table without arguing with her. She clearly didn’t want his company and was angry at him. Max understood her. He would be angry too if she disappeared for 40 years. 
Now Max truly realized what he had done. He had dedicated his life to killing people, and now no one wanted anything to do with him. 
Max stood at the doorstep of Sadie’s house before sitting down on the concrete. If he could, he would have done everything differently.

He sits on a old park bench, groaning as he lowers his aching bones. It’s cold, bitterly so, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He relaxes, allowing his weightly burden to pass from his shoulder for a instant. His expression lightens as he sits in the quiet night, relishing in stillness. He sighs, closing his eyes, appreciating the curtain of dark. His mind quiets, for a brief amazing moment there’s nothing. But soon faces appear in the fog of his mind, flashing through his head, the old, young, sick, heathy. Millions and millions, billions upon billions. He remembers them all, their expressions, their smiles and frowns, the fear, the acceptance, hope. He lets the tears fall, for the first time in many years, he grieves. He holds his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs. He crys out, in anguish, in anger. He thinks a silent prayer, ghosting the words on his lips. Asking God to pick another, to burden someone else.

He soon grows quiet, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes locked upward. Towards the stars, towards heaven. He sighs in acceptance, almost sorrowfully, but a smile graces his lips. He stands up, knowing it’s time. His bones and muscles protesting as he stretches.

And with a chilly breeze, he’s gone.

The grim reaper sits before his marble desk, bones drawn across his lap. His robe hangs loose at his sides and the holes in his skull where his eyes used to be feel heavy. Before him are hundreds of millions of glass spheres, like snowglobes, showcasing his work: there sits the miniature body of a man he took from a hospital; there, a mother with her child. Some of them make him feel sad all over again. He knows nobody wants to hear about that. The grim reaper can’t be sad, can’t feel emotion! But he does, and he reaches out towards a particular sphere that means more to him than the others.

A bell rings behind him. His day off is over. He has no time to relive the past. It’s time to reap again.

“Yo Grim! Grim Reaaper!”

Grim turns around. He waves his hand in the air at his friend.

“It’s good to see you. I know there aren’t many who think so, but I always enjoy our time together. You know what they say, ‘the worst day on the golf course…’ I saw your shoulders bouncing. You laughed. You sly old dog you. But hey, maybe it was that headline I saw the other day in the paper. Somebody had the worst day on the golf course that was the worst day ever. He died! So you were here on a working day. Without me! You son of a gun. Did you play a few holes? No. No. Of course not. You’re an old pro. All business. But you have enough sense to take a day off now and again. Which is why we’re here. After all, ‘All work and no play makes Jack…’ Well you know. A dull boy. But Jack O’Lantern is not a dull boy. Nosiree Bob. So we playin’ eighteen or maybe thirty-six? And you said that we’re gonna have a third. I mean you said in your own unique way. Do I know the third? …La Catrina! Dia de los Muertos personified. Oh what joy! It is so good to see you. We’re like the three biggest icons of death. Or at least you two are. I’m just a Halloween icon. But the two of you! Oh what fun we’l have today. We’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“Fore!”

Grim Reaper We call him Grim Or Grimice Because of the Grimace Shake That Grim helped Grimace make

That was what he planned To make something So he’d be able to have fun 😈 He was busy A LOT But when he wasn’t He made things like The Grimice Shake It keeps him busy

His next plan Was to make edible bombs People aren’t smart And they’d do ANYTHING For attention

People blew up… Grim was happy!

On days off the grim reaper prepares for his visits. Time works differently so that he’s able to tend to everyone. He knows the lasts minutes of life for all twenty four hours of a day. Days off are only a second in real time and does not affect his work because it’s not on earthly time. Far from a person that has human needs and is only the energy that gets pulled to those lives coming to an end.

I sit I stare I go through the list Who will die soon Who is ready for death Who needs to be taken away I have no free time But when I can spare I pray for the weak The people im about to take Their souls away I pray for them But soon I will go 30 lives to take today I have no help to me Im the only grim

But I do have one friend But they want to die They know they are past their prime But I won’t let them They help me take my tourter Away But I think soon It’s time for them to fade away Well now I’m off to take souls Maybe one day I won’t But that day will never come

What does the Grim Reaper do in his time off? Does he stay dressed in all black? So emotionally hard and not soft? But the only thing scarier than he, is when he is on vacation Because that’s the first sign of the destruction of civilization

“I don’t think I can do this”

“Sure you can. It’s easy, just listen for the silence in the beats then pull down.”

“What?”

Death sighed and demonstrated what to do. Death leaned to one of the billions of hanging glowing balls and heard the faint beat of a heartbeat. This one’s time was almost up but not quite yet. Death moved on to a dimming ball and could barely hear the beat.

“This one! Come here.” Death’s temporary replacement tentatively approached the ball and leaned in to hear the beats.

“See how you can barely hear anything?” Death questioned, his replacement nodded slowly.

“These are the ones you pull out.” The replacement blinked before grabbing the ball and pulling down. The ball immediately went dim and dissolved into the air. Death chuckled at the wonder and shock on the replacement’s face. A few seconds later, a new glowing ball, brighter than any of the ones next to it, came down to take its place.

“Woah! What was that?”

“That’s Life. You will learn to hate Life.”

“Have you ever seen Life?”

“Yes, in the beginning of Time. Now, enough questions, I never have days off so I must take advantage”

“What will you do?”

“I want to try this new thing humans invented; I am _dying _to try,” Death answered, attempting a joke. The replacement continued unamused.

“Well, what is it?”

“They call it Base jumping. Do you know how many balls I have pulled out earlier than their time because of this?”

“How are you going to do that? You don’t even have a real body”

“You were made immortal two hundred and eighty-five years ago; how are you still so narrowminded?” Death spat out in playful annoyance. Death’s original appearance would confuse any being that wasn’t there at the Beginning. Death was just a black substance that can be described in human terms like a floating cloth with black smoke. Death glanced at his replacement and copied the body, shifting and transforming.

“You were a human before becoming immortal, correct?” Death wondered, moving the new body shape to become familiarized with it.

“Yes,” the replacement said, sounding almost unsure.

“How’s this?” Death said, lifting newly formed arms into the air and posing.

“Maybe you should wear something less…depressing. And change your face, make it look more human, people will definitely notice you are a god looking that perfect”

“Black is my signature color! And we are not gods, we are Everlasts.”

“I’ve never heard of that.

“Because you are human”

“Was”

“Same difference”

“Whatever. So, are you not going to change?” Death pondered for a moment before morphing the new face a little more and changing the previous obsidian black silk shirt to a dark grey cotton tee.

“Ok face is better, but the clothes…”

“I will not change any further, color makes me feel… what do you humans call it…sick”

“When will you be back?” the replacement asked, after an eye roll.

“Soon. Unfortunately, my work can never stop and I am afraid you won’t last long”

“Well at least you are aware of that”

“I’m off!”

“Bye. Have fun!” Death did not know what that meant but nodded anyway and left.