My Job

A Chapter by The Doctor

     My toes mesh with the soft earth, going between my toes and lines in my skin. Feeling cool and almost refreshing as I advance on the next one. The next person being called, not that it is his fault of course. Just his time. He knows it too. His eyes lock on me with fear, fear that thickens the air around him, fear that fills my nostrils with a sour but sweet scent.
     "Dear God! No! I'm not ready! No!" His screams filled with fear and tears, chest convulsing in an uncontrolled sob.
   "I know. I know you are afraid. But please be clam."
   "Be calm! How can you ask that of me!"
   "I know sir. But I am asking for you to accept this. Accept your calling. It is your time to let go of what has been granted to you. You have lived it out to the fullest. Have done right in the world and wrong. You have asked for forgiveness. Now you will be granted that request."
      I open my wings and press my scythe into the smooth earth. Raising my hood of my cloak I step forward and kneel down next to the man. His back is rested against a tree, a bullet wound expelling blood from his heart like a sieve. Each breath that much more painful. Face stained with tears from pain and fear. Eyes so afraid, even my own heart aches to see so many like this.
     I put out a pale hand and rest it on his forehead.
     "He has granted you a place in his kingdom, he has allowed you to live in the eternal life next to him."
     I stand up, keeping my arm extended as I slowly remove his soul. Careful not to cause pain or more fear than this man is already enduring. As I straighten up, he stands next to me, eyes locked on the shell of his previous existence. No sound coming from him anymore, just a look of shocked sadness.
     "Jeremy, it is really alright. You lived the way he has asked you. You kept your faith on how you viewed the world and still believed in him."
     "But I cursed the man," his voice hollow as he stares at the body.
     "Many do, and will continue. God anticipated man to have faith and man to have doubt. You are in the right as much as any other human being."
     I grab my scythe and turn back to Jeremy. Putting a hand on his shoulder I pull him away from the site and bring him with me. Reaching into my pocket I pull out a white sphere, I whisper these words to myself:

Grant Me this travel so that I may send this
Soul to his rightful place In the Kingdom
Of the Holy Father

     The sphere glows bright, sending us up to God and his kingdom. Opening my eyes I find St. Peter at the gates. Guarding the great, golden gates with his two keys of gold and silver. He smiles to me as I walk Jeremy to St. Peter.
     "Jeremy, this is St. Peter. I shall leave you in his capable hands."
     Jeremy latched on to my upper arm, tight with fear.
     "Death please don't. I am not ready."
     "But you are Jeremy. You have been. This is your calling."
     He looks at me with sadness and reluctantly lets go. His eyes stay on me as I watch him make his way to St. Peter. Peter opens the gate, shaking Jeremy's hand as he is allowed entrance. Jeremy still refuses to look away until his daughter runs at him, yelling daddy as she jumps on him in a tight hug. Now a smile comes to my face, now my job is indeed complete. Little Angela waves to me with a bright smile. I give her one back and give a slow wave of my bone, pale hand.
     "Hello Death. Seems you have done another great deed for Him."
     "I bring them to you Peter. From there it is all you."
     I pull my sphere out and whisper return, taking me back to reside on earth. Opening my eyes again I look around my office at home. Taking a moment I stretch my wings, looking out onto the gleaming ocean, set to a sparkling life by the moon high above.
      I remove my cloak and set it on the chair next to my full bookshelf, acquired over many, many centuries. Actually since I was first installed as The Angel of Death, Care Taker of Souls, Grim Reaper- all the names that may apply. Some call me the agent of Satan himself and others call me the agent of God. I seem to belong to no one or side with anyone. All I know is that this is my job, heart breaking, cruel, difficult, sad, unforgiving; this is a job I have been asked to do. This is a job I enjoy.
     I am the Angel of Death.

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