Ya know, you always remember your firsts. First kiss, first day of school, first shag. Life and unlife are all about firsts. For me, it's that very first time I popped someone's soul.
My first was a girl from a long ago forgotten Celtic tribe. That had to have been a millennium and some change ago, but I can still remember her face. Sharp, hollowed eyed and gray. I had assumed she had been pretty once, before sickness and neglect had left her a hollowed out shell with only the slightest spark of life in those sick, watery green eyes.
It was back during a time before the new protocol. We were still allowed to remember what our marks looked like. None of this grim reaper- now you see it now you don't- presto, change-o coping mechanism shit.
I couldn't tell you what the old homeless fellow that I reaped yesterday looked like, but I remember her. I remember that when I found her she looked so damned grateful; so at peace despite the sickness.
I think that's when I fell a little bit in love with it; same reason I guess people envy birds for being able to fly. I know one day I'll know what it's like. I'll lay my head down for the last time and close my eyes forever.
You people; you beg, and plead and curse and sob when one of my kind comes for you, but when that big light flashes it's all the same. Tranquility.
You don't realize how lucky you are, I'd wager. Now, I know what you're gonna say;
"Yeah, we get it, you're a reaper. It's a sad, lonely existence."
Ding. Ding.Ding. But it ain't the loneliness that gets ya. It's the boredom. I could cry and moan about how I haven't gotten laid since World War 2, but if you were to tell me that I got to choose between a deliriously great fuck with Johnny Depp and being able to cure my boredom for just one day, I'd pick the latter.
It's hard for someone in my profession to have hobbies. What can start out as a nice little infatuation with collecting kewpie dolls can quickly turn into an ongoing game of trying to figure out how many people have actually been *killed* by kewpie dolls. Morbid" Yeah.
I was born into it after all, but sometimes when I escape, I like to think back to that girl. I like to think she was more then some little chip in the master plan, ya know"
I'm not cruel and I'm not a murderer. I have never once killed a human being. I take souls and while it don't pay peanuts, I like to think it ain't a bad gig.
My first was a girl from a long ago forgotten Celtic tribe. That had to have been a millennium and some change ago, but I can still remember her face. Sharp, hollowed eyed and gray. I had assumed she had been pretty once, before sickness and neglect had left her a hollowed out shell with only the slightest spark of life in those sick, watery green eyes.
It was back during a time before the new protocol. We were still allowed to remember what our marks looked like. None of this grim reaper- now you see it now you don't- presto, change-o coping mechanism shit.
I couldn't tell you what the old homeless fellow that I reaped yesterday looked like, but I remember her. I remember that when I found her she looked so damned grateful; so at peace despite the sickness.
I think that's when I fell a little bit in love with it; same reason I guess people envy birds for being able to fly. I know one day I'll know what it's like. I'll lay my head down for the last time and close my eyes forever.
You people; you beg, and plead and curse and sob when one of my kind comes for you, but when that big light flashes it's all the same. Tranquility.
You don't realize how lucky you are, I'd wager. Now, I know what you're gonna say;
"Yeah, we get it, you're a reaper. It's a sad, lonely existence."
Ding. Ding.Ding. But it ain't the loneliness that gets ya. It's the boredom. I could cry and moan about how I haven't gotten laid since World War 2, but if you were to tell me that I got to choose between a deliriously great fuck with Johnny Depp and being able to cure my boredom for just one day, I'd pick the latter.
It's hard for someone in my profession to have hobbies. What can start out as a nice little infatuation with collecting kewpie dolls can quickly turn into an ongoing game of trying to figure out how many people have actually been *killed* by kewpie dolls. Morbid" Yeah.
I was born into it after all, but sometimes when I escape, I like to think back to that girl. I like to think she was more then some little chip in the master plan, ya know"
I'm not cruel and I'm not a murderer. I have never once killed a human being. I take souls and while it don't pay peanuts, I like to think it ain't a bad gig.