The vortex spiraled in black and deep purples as it pulsated, and I stepped to my last reaping of the night.

It spit me out in a rundown apartment with a stove leaking gas. Not a flame in sight.

Yet.

All the false light blared down on me.

I inhaled, shook the tension enveloping my body, and snapped my finger. My scythe materialized in the air before me. I reached my hands out and grabbed a hold of the snath.

I lost my grip as it slipped through my clammy fingers. “Shoot. Shit. Shit. No, no. Please. Not today.” I frantically reached, but the steel blade slammed onto the tile viciously clanging until it settled.

“Who’s there?” a rough voice called out from the dark doorway across the room.

I crouched low, wiped my sweaty palms on my black slacks, snatched the scythe, and stood up, hucking it over my shoulder.

I took a deep breath and gave my best customer service voice despite my menacing appearance. “I’m here to help.” I smiled.

Fake it until you make it. It’s only been… what? A hundred years of reaping? I’ll get better, eventually.

I glided to the eerie hallway entrance. Each picture frame ripped from the wall and placed on the ground, facing the wrong way. A little particular but I wasn't here to investigate the man’s life.

The doorway had a low light as I stepped inside, and my eyes lingered on an old man slouched beside the bed, staring back at his corpse.

“It can’t be real.” The man shook his head profusely, refusing to make eye contact with me.

I stood still, watching—even after each reaping, it never got any easier.

“If you stay here, it will only cause you more suffering.” My voice was low and steady, hoping I didn’t sound too bleak.

The man twisted his neck to face me; his eyes bloodshot and puffy with sunken cheeks. “Go away.”

I clenched the snath of the scythe.

For reapers’ sake. Why did they never want to listen? Ever. It‘s like they all strived to make my day a living hell, dragging this process out way longer than necessary.

I tilted my head and gritted through my teeth. “I’m afraid, I can’t do that.”

I stalked close to the man, and he shrunk into the side of the bed, swinging his arms, flailing and screaming as I raised the scythe.

“GO AWAY YOU DEMON.” The man swatted me away like a mere slap could do anything.

I swung with all my force, tearing a hole through space. “Go before I push you in,” I growled. My temperament turned more aggravated every second he defied me.

I didn’t have time for this. I needed to end this now. He was my last reaping before I could relax.

“NO NO NO. I got rid of you!” The guy shot up and shoved me out of his way.

I slammed into the side of the end table; the edge stabbing me in the ribcage. “Fuck,” I gasped out.

I despised how strong spirits were when they first died. Stupid heightened emotions made them dangerous, and there were only two times when spirits truly became this strong. When they first died, and when they finally lost their last bit of humanity—man, to become stuck between life and death for eternity was something I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.

I grumbled a few curses under my breath and pushed myself up. My eyes fixed on the body lying in front of me.

It wasn’t the old man.

A woman in her mid-thirties. Her hair was perfectly brushed and in pigtails; her skin was gray and her eyes wide open.

This man killed… I shuddered. So it was that kind of reaping tonight. Management really needed to add more detail to the descriptions.

I sprinted out of the room, half thinking I would have to chase the bastard down. But he cowered in a fetal position next to the front door, rocking back and forth, muttering under his breath, “Why… Why can’t I leave?”

I stalked towards him, and he shriveled further against the doorframe.

I clicked my tongue. “All monsters are trapped once they die.” I swung my scythe again, ripping open the door to the other side.

I snatched the man by his collar and yanked him to his feet and tossed him inside.

The tear closed, and I slammed the scythe on the tile, snapped my fingers and it vanished. I lifted my wrist and pressed the side button of my watch.

The vortex opened, and I walked through.

I stumbled into Val’s office and dusted my hands off on my slacks.

Val gave me a small nod as I stomped past her; my feet exhausted from chasing more than a hundred lost spirits all day and night.

I rounded the corner and saw my little cubicle and barely made it to my chair before I collapsed onto it.

I let out a breath of relief and melted into the seat. It was Friday, and I finished all my reaping. I didn’t even have to work through the weekend.

A happy giggle escaped my lips as I jiggled my legs in excitement. I was going to pick up some curry on the way home and binge-watch some K-dramas with Lil Dew.

“I wouldn’t get too excited just yet.”

I tipped my head back and Larissa popped out from the corner. She had heavy bags under her eyes as she rubbed her temple in discomfort.

“What do you mean? The reapings are all complete. What more is there?” I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

“Upper management wants to have a word with you.”

I choked on my own spit as I launched to my feet, trying to find any hint of sarcasm in Larissa’s expression, but her face remained deadpanned.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Afraid I am. They found errors in some of the spirits you reaped. You sent them to the wrong place.”

My eyes widened. “That can’t be right.” Fuckin’ hell balls.

“Go to the elevator and press the sixth button and… don’t make him wait too long. He’s in a nasty mood from dealing with Death all day.”

When was management ever in a good mood? Oh, man. I was so screwed. “I mean are you sure its me and not—“

“This isn’t something you can get out of.”

A hysterical laugh fled my lips, and I quickly covered my mouth. “All right. Wish me luck.”

“Oh, sweetie. You’re going to need more than luck.”