Chapter 54 - Replacement

The sun barely had any light left to give to the day. Death led Morrigan into the woods, where the tree coverage ensured only vague shadows remained. The air was cool and filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures beginning their nightly activities. Morrigan felt a shiver run down her spine, both from the chill and the eerie atmosphere.

“Seems like a bad time for a walk,” Morrigan said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Alice liked walking through here at night,” Death answered, his tone somber and reflective.

“Alice?” Morrigan asked, curiosity piqued.

Death summoned his scythe, the ethereal tool materializing with the pole between his skeletal fingers. He tapped the pole against the ground twice, and the blade lit up with a white luminescent glow that brightened the area around them. The trees cast long, intricate shadows, and the path ahead became clear.

“So… that was her name?” Morrigan asked. “The girl from the diary?”

“Yes,” Death replied, his voice tinged with sadness. “She was my last apprentice before you. We parted ways nearly eighty years ago now.”

“Parted ways… so she’s still alive, then?”

“The last I saw her, yes, but I haven’t heard from her since. I don’t know her current whereabouts or condition.”

“So… the diary started in 1694…” That meant she was his apprentice for about 250 years. Based on the first year covered by the diary, Morrigan suspected they wouldn’t have made it that long.

“I first met her in Salem, Massachusetts, and that is where she began her work as a reaper. However, due to some issues that arose from her remaining in a place so close to her own death, I eventually thought it best we move somewhere far away.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the crunch of leaves underfoot. Morrigan gathered her thoughts, feeling the weight of what she wanted to ask. The glow from the scythe cast a soft light on her face.

“Emma had a theory about how she died,” Morrigan said cautiously. “She said it sounded like the girl… um, Alice… was buried alive.”

Death sighed, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to echo through the trees. “Indeed, Emma would be correct. But if only that were all. Alice was tortured for days until she confessed to anything they wished of her—all of it lies. She was no witch. Even had she been, she nor any other witch were responsible for that damned pandemic. When they were through with their interrogation, they performed their horribly misguided ritual. Her eyes and mouth were sewn shut, and she was buried alive.”

Morrigan stopped walking, the horror of Death’s words sinking in. “That’s... awful,” she whispered.

Death nodded solemnly, his skeletal face impassive but his tone laden with sorrow. “It is only a small mercy that she did not remain conscious for very long inside that coffin… and then she soon died.”

Morrigan’s voice trembled. “How could anyone do that to someone? H-how old was she?”

The words left Death like a failing breeze. “Fourteen…”

Morrigan felt appalled, horrified, and angry all at once. Death spared her the details of the girl’s interrogation, but she could only imagine.

“So… you don’t know where she is now?”

“No. We had a falling out. Moving away from Salem wasn’t enough to give her peace of mind. Getting revenge in Salem wasn’t enough to satisfy her, Morrigan.”

“Wait… revenge?”

“Yes. She slowly hunted down those who were involved in her death. This was initially unknown to me; she was quite clever at hiding her actions, you see.”

“But… I thought we can’t reap someone who isn’t on our list.”

“This wasn’t reaping, Morrigan. It was murder.”

“But how did she hide it from you? Wouldn’t their names still show up on your list eventually?”

“I will not tell you how. But she found a loophole; I’ll just say that. She was young, but she was frighteningly clever. More so than I realized for quite some time.”

Morrigan wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. Those people had tortured her, and even without the extra context, Morrigan could tell just from the way the diary entries were written how much she suffered. “Would she have gone to limbo if you didn’t make a contract with her?” Morrigan asked.

“No… she was not like you. She could still have gone to heaven if she chose it. That is, before accepting my contract.”

“Then why did you make her a reaper?”

“I… had been waiting for an apprentice for quite some time. She seemed an appropriate candidate. Her life was cut short, she had a deep sense of justice, and she wanted it. She did not want to pass on; she was not done with this world. I know it is not uncommon for spirits to feel that way, and we don’t typically give in to their desire to stay. But Alice… she was different.” He stopped walking, seeming to gather his thoughts. Morrigan stopped and looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Well… I did try to reap her, at first,” Death continued. “I found her as a spirit above her grave. I had been late in getting to her because there was so much dying due to the smallpox pandemic. The reapers in the area could not keep up with our lists, so sometimes, they were left to linger a little longer than we would have liked.

“When I arrived, I apologized for being late, and told her of heaven. But she didn’t want to go. I tried my best to console her on what lay ahead, but she refused to accept it. Still, I stuck to my duty, and I raised my scythe, but then, she did something no spirit had ever done to me before… She grabbed my scythe.”

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“Whoa… seriously?”

“Oh yes. She was only a spirit, yet as I prepared to reap her, her hand shot out. She grabbed the pole with both arms. The blade was inches from ending her—but she fought! She fought and she pleaded—she screamed and refused to go. There was so much raw passion in her voice. After all she’d been through, she wanted to live, to continue existing here on earth.

“I asked why. I pointed out how harsh this world has been to her. She’d lived to see the spread of a horrible disease and been unjustly alienated and despised by her community due to rumors. Then, she was eventually tortured and murdered. So why would she wish to stay in such a place? And her response left me speechless, not for the first time that night.”

“What did she say?” Morrigan asked.

“She said she didn’t know.”

“...Oh?” It didn’t sound all that impressive. Morrigan was expecting some deeply philosophical insight or… something. Death had been around for thousands and thousands of years, so Morrigan assumed it would take something pretty huge to give him pause.

Death chuckled. “She said she didn’t know, but just that she felt the need to stay, and if I were to take her now, she would never be able to answer that question. And so… I gave her a choice. I told her of being a reaper, and gave her an opportunity to stay.”

A thought crossed Morrigan’s mind as they continued to walk in silence. “So when I died, you had to take my body in order to sign the contract.” She hesitated, thinking of the words. “How did you get her body if it was buried?”

“I dug her up,” Death said. “Even so, her body was hardly viable. Aside from the stitching on her face, there were so many wounds and broken bones. I felt a rare anger in seeing it… I only regret that she had to return to such a broken body. But, she steeled herself, and instead of crying or cursing what they’d done to her, she thanked me. She thanked me and then returned to her body.

“I took her back to my home at the time, cleaned her up as best as I could, and removed the stitches from her face. Then, I reanimated her and presented her the contract. She signed without hesitation.”

Morrigan nodded. “Do you think she used you just to get revenge on those people? Like, do you think that’s what she was planning all along?”

“Knowing her as I know her now, I do not doubt that it was on her mind. In fact, I’m sure the moment her body was reanimated, she was already plotting to go back. But… As I tell you this, I want you to know that Alice did have it in her to be a good reaper. She cared deeply about the weight of her duties and giving spirits a reassuring passage to the afterlife. That is, except for those who she saw as evil. If she knew a spirit were destined for hell she would torment them before completing her duty. This was a major point of contention between us, and it eventually led to us parting ways.”

“Maybe you’ll get mad at me for saying this… but is that really so bad? Is it really important to be kind to someone who was evil?”

“We are not judges,” Death said. “It is not our place to spread justice in this world. Reapers with that mentality slowly grow corrupted by their own sense of righteousness. It warps their purpose, turning them from guides to a sort of self-appointed enforcement of their own morals. Alice struggled with that distinction.”

Morrigan considered his words as they walked, the forest growing denser around them. She could see how the lines between justice and vengeance could blur for someone who had suffered as Alice had.

“So, you believe that even the worst people deserve a peaceful transition?” Morrigan asked. “What about those souls who did terrible things? Don’t they deserve some form of retribution?”

Death paused, his empty eye sockets fixed on her. “Retribution is a human concept, tied to emotions and earthly justice. In the grand scheme of things, there are forces far beyond us that decide the fate of every soul. Our role in the process ends when we send them there.”

Morrigan thought back to the demon she had confronted on her second day. She thought he was a normal human at first when she chased him, after witnessing him pushing that boy into traffic. What exactly had her plan been? She wasn’t entirely sure, she didn’t think that far ahead, but wouldn’t the point have been to kill him, had she been able to? It definetly seemed reasonable at the time. After all, he probably would have killed more innocent people himself.

She looked over to Death and noticed him staring at her, a depth in his gaze it was like he was trying to see inside of her. She cleared her throat, thinking about the other thing that disturbed her about the diary. It hadn’t really clicked right away, but after a while she made the connection on how similar she and Alice were.

Finally, Morrigan broke the silence. “Death, there’s something else that’s been bothering me. Alice was fourteen when you contracted her. And now, here I am, a couple of years older than her, but still pretty close in age… and you’ve chosen me as your new apprentice.”

“You are asking if Alice factored into my decision to make you my apprentice?”

They were approaching the end of the trail, the density of the woods dispersing, and she could see the clearing just ahead of them.

“I mean… I can’t help but see the connection. It kind of makes me think you see me as a sort of do-over.”

Death didn’t respond right away, and that made her nervous. She felt like she had hit the nail on the head, and he now didn’t know how to respond. The last time she asked why he had offered her the contract, he said it was on a whim and that he thought her situation was sad, yet he saw potential in her. If he hadn’t been honest about his true intentions, then that truly bothered her. It would mean she hadn’t been made a reaper based on any kind of sound reasoning or determination that she was appropriate for the job. That would mean she did not deserve to be here right now.

“I see why you would think that…” Death said slowly.

She felt herself getting angry. It felt like a betrayal, but she didn’t know how to put it into words. Then the fact that he set up a room for her that was so similar to Alice’s was just… creepy.

“Well, let’s get something straight,” Morrigan said. “I’m not Alice. Okay? I am my own person, and I won’t be a replacement for her.”

Death stopped walking and turned to face her fully, the scythe’s glow casting eerie shadows on his skeletal face. “Morrigan, you are absolutely right. You are not Alice, nor should you ever feel like you are her replacement. My decision to make you my apprentice was not an attempt to seek redemption for my failures with Alice.”

Morrigan crossed her arms, her anger still simmering. “Then what was it, exactly? Why me?”

He still didn’t respond. She exhaled, and stomped past him, angrily. She felt like leaving again. She knew staying at Emma’s wouldn’t be easy with her parents, but she wondered if Hilda would let he crash for a few days. “Forget it.”

“Morrigan, wait,” Death said. “Okay… there is someting…”

She turned. “What?”

His skeletal fingers came up to his jaw. He seemed to be struggling with something. “You’re right… well, partially right. There was another reason for my decision. The truth is, that night when I found your body in the crypt…”

She felt a lump form in her throat as she stared back at him.

“That night… was not the first time I met you.”

“What?” she whispered.

“I debated whether or not I should tell you this, but… it was when you were so young I doubt you would have remembered. But, if your mother were ever to have it in herself to revisit that night, she may be able to fill in some of the blanks I may not be able to provide.”

Morrigan felt the color drain… well, if she had color in her face, it would be draining. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m referring to the night your father died.”

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