Ahead of the Competition

As the muggy summer day began its transition into yet another gloom-ridden evening in the township of Delilah, two voices echoed across a desolate alleyway. Their conversation began as one born of courtesy, but it soon developed into something more than just idle chatter.  

By the metal corrugated doors of the receiving bay behind the abandoned remains of the Big K-Mart, a tall, lanky figure in a black cloth cloak leaned against an old, wooden scythe as he looked over the grotesque scene. 

By his bare, pale feet laid the body of a young woman in a green cardigan and ripped blue jeans. Her name had been Denise, and she was very, very dead. 

 Absent her frame, was her head of all things! Instead of being attached to her shoulders, like a head should be, it had been removed posthumously using a blade of some kind, and was plopped atop a concrete, yellow pillar. Trails of dark red blood coated the sides of the pillar, pooling at its base before expanding outward through a seam in the ramp and to the asphalt below.  

Despite this development, it didn’t stop her from carrying on a decent conversation.  

“So, you mean to tell me that being the Grim Reaper doesn’t automatically qualify you for some kind of healthcare plan?”  

“Well, you know how part-time gigs are these days, you have to work so many hours to qualify for it. If I were full-time, it’d be a different story. There’s always some sort of excuse that keeps them from offering us that type of coverage, yada, yada, yada. It’s a big mess.”  

“It certainly sounds like it, I mean jeez, you’re around sick people all of the time. You do at least get sick pay, right?”  

The Reaper sighed and scratched underneath his black hood. 

“Uh, no, not really. We just use our vacation hours to cover it.”  

“That’s insane. Why should you be punished for an inevitability? People get sick, it happens. Your boss should try and take these

things into account and give you guys a separate bank of sick hours.”  

The Reaper nodded in agreement as he rested his scythe on the brick wall next to him.  

“Hey, I’m right there with you pal, but most insurance salesmen and human resource reps go straight to hell, so we don’t exactly have the most competent representation. Plus, you try telling the Grand Reaper anything! You’ll end up with a foot shoved so far up your ass that you can trim his toenails with your teeth.” 

“Oh, wow. That’s rough buddy.”  

“It is, no doubt about it. So, can I ask you something?”  

“Shoot, Tex.”  

“Why are you here? You seem like you have a decent head on your shoulders. Err, well, had.”  

“Honestly, I don’t know, it’s all kind of a blur. The last thing I remember was trying to get a hold of my dog’s leash and chasing him through the bushes over there by the dog park,” The head of Denise replied as she gesticulated to the bushes behind her. 

“It’s okay, I just thought I’d ask. Most humans don’t realize that they are dead until after they’ve been processed by someone from the Spiritual Affairs Office. Every once in a while, someone will surprise you though, so it’s worth it to check and see.”  

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah. That’s the way we find our potential future Reapers as well.” 

“Huh, well that’s cool. At least you guys get retirement benefits.” 

“That’s true, the one thing this gig offers that doesn’t make you want to hang yourself is a decent pension.” 

“At the rate I was going, I wouldn’t have been able to retire until I died anyway.” 

“It’s an interesting experience for sure. It’s not very pleasant, but it’s interesting.  

“Most things in life fall into that category, I’d say.”  

“That’s death for you. It can be just as big of a pain in the ass as life.”   

“I almost hate to ask, but how did you go?”  

The reaper laughed, but it was so quiet, almost as if the wind had up and stole the sound away. 

“I loved racing fast cars, but I hated wearing seatbelts. Go figure.” 

She began laughing hysterically, so much so, that the Reaper had to reach up and steady her head so that it didn’t fall off of the pole. The Reaper gave her a reluctant smile as he wiped a few strands of her hair from her face with one of his boney fingers before swooping them behind her ear. 

“I’m glad you fund my fiery death so amusing,” he replied glibly.  

“Well, can you blame me? I’m literally a disembodied head. I’ll take any semblance of schadenfreude I can get.” 

“I never said I blamed you, child.” 

“Can I ask you something else?”  

“I don’t see why not.” 

“Am I going to be a ghost head forever?”  

The Reaper chortled, “Oh no, you’ll be leaving this fleshy vessel behind once we begin the Ascent. Your spirit will soar free, like a bird in the sky.” 

“That sounds pretty free,” she replied.  

“It is, my child, and whether or not you’re sucked into the turbine of an oncoming airplane is completely dependent on your actions during this life.”  

“Eh, well, that’s significantly less free.”  

“Well, were you bad?”  

“Depends on your definition of bad.”  

“Did you sin?”  

“In somebody’s religion, surely.”  

The Reaper nodded thoughtfully at her response. 

“Did you steal?”  

“The hearts of many men and women.” 

“That’s probably what cost you your head.”  

“I don’t doubt it.”  

“Did you worship God?” 

“Yeah, I worshipped my god.” 

“And which god is that?”  

“The one I was told to.”  

“That doesn’t really narrow it down much.”  

“Can you blame me?”  

“Did you kill?”  

“More spiders than Stalin.”  

“That’s a lot of spiders,” the Reaper replied as he pondered her responses.  

“There are a lot of spiders.” 

“I see.” 

After a minute of silence, the Reaper’s dull eyes began to glow a ghostly blue, before fading quickly back to their dull steel gray. 

“Did you argue with others?” 

“Profusely.” 

“How goal-oriented were you?”  

“Very.”  

“Can you maintain composure?”  

“Yes, clearly I can. If I laugh too much right now, then I’ll fall and smash my face.  

“Very true.”  

“Do you know how to use Kronos software?”  

“I’m pretty familiar.”  

“Okay, well, you have two choices then Denise, you can burn in hell forever, or you can apply to be the Reaper’s as our new HR rep. The choice is yours.”  

“So, I take it purgatory is off of the table then?”  

“Yep, it sure is.” 

“No Valhalla?” 

“Nada.” 

“Is that comet the Heaven’s Gate people jumped on swinging back around?”  

“Most certainly not.” 

“I think I’m going to have to go with HR rep then.”  

“Good choice, my friend.”  

The Reaper scooped up his scythe from its resting place and gripped its wooden handle tightly. Soon his eyes began to glow a bright ghostly blue once more, then with a delicate tap, touched the point of the blade to the center of her forehead.  

“Remember one thing before we go, child.” 

“What’s that?” she asked, her bright brown eyes were crossed as she stared intently at the point of the scythe.  

“I want sick pay, and Halloweens off.”  

“I’ll make it my top priority.”  

“And a better parking spot.”  

“Let’s stick to what’s reasonable and work from there.”  

“Very well.” 

“Wait! I have one last question, then I’ll be ready.” 

“Fine then, you may ask it.”  

“What’s your name? I get you’re a Reaper. But what do the other Reapers call you? Or your friends?” 

“My name...is Gary.”  

Denise smiled as she held back a chuckle. “It’s nice to meet you, Gary. Okay, I’m ready.” 

“Come along then, Denise. Let us start your new adventure.” 

With an unintentional nod, Denise’s head fell from its perch, but not before Gary the Reaper had ripped the soul from her body. It hovered next to him, like a violet gaseous could, glowing faintly with every slight movement. Her now deceased head plopped to the ground forehead first, rolling for a few feet before coming to a rest near the finely manicured hand of her own body.  

With a flash of white, Gary the Reaper and Denise had disappeared from the mortal realm, and where off to that great Human Resources office in the sky.