Mori walked down the city, not bothered by the light drizzle. Being a reaper was never an easy job, there’s a quota to fulfill and you never got to laze around. It was dark and misty, the city officials too busy amassing their wealth to fix the streetlight, one or two thugs dissappearing wouldn’t be a strange event to occur. The reaper adjusted her eyes—shinigamis do have special eyesight, after all— and saw small fires all over the town, each representing one’s soul. Most of them were green, some were yellow, and a select few was red. Just as she was taught, the green ones were those with long life ahead of them, the yellows got a couple of years left, and the reds meant they were ripe for harvest. Heading for a particularly deep red blaze, she was led to a back alley. The owner of the soul was a drunkard taking a piss behind the trashcan. The stench was so digusting she decided to wait until the man went back to the sidewalk before stopping him dead in his track, blade of her scythe around his neck.

“Sorry, Mister, the lease of your life has expired. Please quietly put your neck against the blade so I can do my job easi-DON’T touch my scythe with your unwashed, pee-stained hands, please.”

The man was shaking profusely, his hands several inches away from the blade of her scythe. Taking a better look, Mori noticed he was still young, probably in his 20s, and a good bit taller than her. Not quite fitting for her taste but that was irrelevant, what mattered was that his soul was due, and Mori got a quota to fulfill. 

“Am I- …Am I going to die?” He stammered. Mori never knew lips could tremble that much. Well, quite understandable. Facing death in the face when you expect to have a long life ahead of you must be unpleasant. 

“Unfortunately, yes. Worry not, your boy will make this quick. Hope you have a better life next time.” She raised her scythe and swung it down, expecting the man to keel over and perish when she’s done. The scythe just phased through him, however, leaving both of them staring at each other, dumbfounded. 

“What was that?” As puzzled as the man, Calli readjusted her shinigami eyes, entertaining the possibility that she just saw the color of his soul wrong. Nope, still red. So red it would in fact pass on naturally soon, with a lot of pain involved. 

“I don’t get it either, gimme a second.” Chanting in an indiscernible language, a book with leathery cover appeared on her hands. She flipped through the pages and finally found the one with his face on it.

“Your name Anon-kun?”

“Correct.”

“It says you’re 23 years old, never had a job, lives secretly in the basement of a local supermarket and steals money regularly from the register to drink-Dude, that’s a crime!”

“I …was in a dark place, I’ll repent, okay? It says it’s not my time yet, right? I can go, right?”

“Nope, your soul was due weeks ago.”

“No fucking way.” He wrestled the book from Mori who easily let go, pulled out a marker from his back pocket, and desperately tried to blot out the date in there.

“Dude, that’s not gonna work. That one is just a copy; the real thing stays hidden in the underworld. Some monkey erased his name from the book of the dead so we had to change the procedure.” 

“So how am I not dead then? There must be a mistake, I’m a healthy 23 years old for fuck’s sake!” The man wailed, giving Mori the chance to take back her book from him and flipped to the next page.

“You actually have an undiagnosed brain tumor, no amount of money you steal from that cash register would cover the medical cost so you might as well come quietly with me. The only explanation is…” Mori cut off her word. She couldn’t believe this kind of guy would get this treatment.

“You must have some unresolved issues. Now these things don’t happen very often, it’s usually reserved for kings or someone with deep vengeance. Any idea what it could be?” She eyed him head to toe, nothing special. Nothing of note in her book of the dead either, his immediate family were all still alive.

“I’m… Um… a virgin.”

“Guh, nope, not this shit again. I’d rather let you die painfully than let you do me. Your boy’s out, see you never.” Mori unmaterialized her scythe and began walking back. 

“Please! A handjob will suffice. I would die happily after.”

Mori let out a sigh and weighed her choice: in one hand, it’s an easy soul for the taking, in other hand, she would need to slob his hog-Ah, screw that, she got a quota to fill. The reaper made note to treat herself to something nice after this.

“Fine! Make it quick, you little shit.”

Mori pulled down his pants and down came his boxers too. The man grinned from ear to ear, brandishing his mediocre-sized meaty mace. 

“Ew dude, were you rocking a stiffy this entire time?”

“Angel lust, you know. Now start touching it.”

That’s not what the term meant, but Mori said nothing. She didn’t want to argue and make it longer than it needed to be. Kneeling beside his sticky stick, she reluctantly brought her hand closer to it. The man’s breathing started getting more ragged as her hand got closer. 

“Yeah, bitch. Just like that. Wrap my solid shaft around your deadly digits.”

Gritting her teeth, Mori grabbed his knob in one swift motion and started stroking. She expected this would be over within few minutes, but…

“YEAAAaAaAhHHAHhHHHHHh UOOOHAHHOOHHHHH IM COMINGGAAAAAGGRGHGHGARGHHHGRARGHHHHHH!!”

Seconds after she touched the disgusting dong, he bursted his baby batter along with a mighty moan. She was caught off-guard by the sheer speed and couldn’t react fast enough to avoid getting it all over her arm and face. The man soon keeled over and his soul flew into the satchel on Mori’s hip, his body laid lifeless on the cold ground.

How. Utterly. Repulsive.

Mori materialized her scythe once more and swung it at her own neck, lopping both her head and right arm off in one strike. Her body slumped over and soon the detached part turned into ashes, skeletal head and arm quickly grew in its place. It would take a few days for the flesh to regenerate but it was better than living with her flesh tainted by this piece of shit’s mark.

She raised her hood, not wanting to raise suspicion with her lack of face, and dialed a number on her phone. The ring soon stopped and her spectral voice followed.

“Hello, Enma? I’m not going to be able to stream for a few days, reaper business, hope you understand.”

“Hello-Damn, you sound like death, Calli. Everything alright over there? Want me to call for help?”

“Everything daijoukay, there was just a little …accident. See you in a week.”