Hi. I am a Grim Reaper. At least that’s what I’m called by many now-a-day. I do not have a proper name; you know the name your parents give you. I wish I had one. However, I’ve been called many things. Some places call me King Yama, others King Yan. Some call me King Enma. Though, a lot of times I do not have the title of king. Some refer to me as the ‘Netherworld Emissary’ and ‘Angel of Death’ or a shinigami. Some make me out as a deity like Thanatos. Well it has been quite a long time since I’ve been called Thanatos. Here lately I’m known as the Grim Reaper.
Over the millennia, I have had many shapes to my weapon. I’ve always had it, and I’m not sure why or where it came from. It changes shape to the most popular belief of the weapon of death. One time it was a staff, another sword, even a sickle one time. Now it is a scythe. I can choose what it is with enough focus, like I one time turned it into a gun.
As for my appearance, I AM NOT A SKELETON! I’d like to think I’m a good looking guy. I do have blonde hair that reaches almost to my eyebrows. I also have bone white skin. I do have a face! With all the artists capturing me as a skull; I’ve grown a little self-conscious about it. I do wear that long, black hooded robe. I think it looks good. I am not sure why I have them, but I have wings. They are pair of large, black feathered wings.
As for what I do, I watch over the mortals. I walk amongst them. They cannot see me, though I wish they could. I would give anything to have a conversation with someone. You wouldn’t believe how boring it is with no one to talk to. It is very lonely. Despite watching humans since they were cave dwellers, I have yet to have a conversation with one.
What’s that you say? Death? Souls? Hmm, well I naturally know who is dying. With a simple touch, they stop. They stop moving, breathing, living. I see no souls; I do not have a conversation with them. They do not beg, trick or even accept me. It is like someone pulls a plug so to speak. They just stop being.
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It is a sad job and I hate it. It has to be done though. There was a time or two I did not do my job. People die even if I do nothing; however they linger for a bit longer, infecting people with diseases that devastate the entire population. When I knew of this I had to reap more than I could keep track of so not all of humanity dies. I caused the Black Plague. Scientist blames it on fleas, but I know the truth. It was me. I probably deserve this solitude as punishment.
Watching these humans, there are some scenes I like, such as when humans fall in love for the first time. In the beginning, humans just got together out of pure instinct for reproduction. It was an almost ugly sight to watch. As time went a long, it got interesting. You have to first earn the other’s affection, then follow up with acts of an emotion called love to maintain the relationship.
Humans sure are fascinating.
It was this thought that ran through my head, is when I felt a tug on my robe. Turning around I saw a cute little girl, maybe around the age of 19. She had a small, round face and a pair of large green eyes that sparkled in the sun. She also had messy, red hair that was long and curly. She had a petite body to top it off. She was wearing a long button up, white top and khaki bottom. Most mortal men would probably be attracted to her, she was that attractive.
“Excuse me, but do you think you could help me? I’m a little lost.” The first question ever directed at me.