Let me tell you how humans work. Wake up. Waste the day. Go to bed. Repeat. Pretty much how it is. Now you are probably wondering who I am with my hooded cape, reaping scythe, and my complete army of 100,000 reapers. I’m the Grim Reaper. I’m sure there are only two types of reactions per gender.
1. “OMG!! Everyone run!”
2. “Oh my God, give me your autograph. No one’s ever gonna believe this!”
Now, now boys, no need to be so energetic. Don’t you love stereotypes...
Humans to me are… interesting. Now see over here is a lovely human village, with their quaint little houses, rats, and a horrible way of using “medicine.” This is the 1500s after all.
“LOOK! IT’S DEATH! PREPARE THE SACRIFICE!”
Now, that is an arrogant human who does not know anything.
I don’t like sacrifices. They just add more souls to my workday.
I can’t do anything with souls. I can’t eat it. It’s just a collection of thoughts and memories. I can’t take it away for a fun night… if you know what I mean… All I can do with it is place it in one of my three pockets. One for mortals, one for immortals, and one for… let’s not talk about number three… And I have no clue where these pockets lead.
But the most important thing people get wrong about me is… MY NAME IS NOT DEATH!! I mean, who in the heck came up with that in the first place?!
Now that woman is one I won’t mind having by my side for a night. She got that lovely long blonde hair, green eyes, and that booty. Oh, there it goes. They just slit her throat. What a waste of a beauty.
Now I can’t kill humans, and I am bound to their laws. Why? Let me tell you the story about the first reaper.
His name was Jack Ripper. He was the first to set rules around the reaper race. One of these rules is that reapers cannot kill a human. They must wait until the end of their lives to take their souls. The reasoning behind this is that reapers really loved taking mortals lives. Why? Don’t ask me. I find the thought of it to be boring. Apparently, the population of the human race was wiped down to a mire 100. Unfortunately, they pulled through.
I don’t hate humans. I just don’t like the job I was stuck with. Well, I’m not alone at least. My army of reapers also shares my job.
I’m the King of the Reapers. I won’t have that title for much longer though. In about another 500 years or so I will have a son to take my place. I’ve already been thinking of names to call him. Death Reaper? Grim Reaper Jr.? Grim Reaper the 2nd? I’ll decide when I get there.
I’m not particularly fond of the idea that I will have to give up my throne. But when it does happen, I’ll no longer exist. I will have joined with my son. Not particularly fond of that idea either. But I don’t like having to follow rules.
Watch me. I’ll find a way to get exactly what I want….