Two
He used to call himself the Bringer of Death.
Until he got a better-paying job.
Unknown to many people, it wasn’t Death himself that collected people’s souls when their time had come. Death could be one lazy bastard, but he wasn’t going to retire anytime soon. So the Bringer had a pretty steady job.
But now, he had a sideline.
He only knew his other boss as The Employer. Who or what she really was didn’t matter. But she was giving him one soul for every ten collected. Much, much better than Death’s package. And her choice of victims was very, very interesting.
It’s four-fifteen in the human world, and he’s waiting for his next quarry.
One of the living people – he was a writer - got it right: their lives were all tied to strings to the ether. Very imaginative, that guy. They’ll probably have an interesting talk when he croaked. He’ll have to bring him to Death though, because The Employer didn’t like his kind.
Being the Bringer of Death wasn’t a very glamorous job. A more appropriate title would be Cutter of Strings.
Enough daydreaming. The subject is approaching.
He nimbly fingers the threads in the ether, looking for the right one, sending an almost imperceptible chill to all the souls that briefly touch his skin. What’s the word they use to describe it? Ah, “foreshadowing.”
Here it is. Eight down; two more, and it’s commission time.
He makes a quick but forceful snip using his razor-sharp fingernails. The thread is strong, like all those who aren’t quite ready yet; but her will is no match for his experience.
The line becomes impossibly taut for a moment, and then becomes slump.
Time to send one more The Employer’s way.
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NEWS FLASH: Sexy actress Maria Gonzalez killed in automobile mishap; foul play by political suspected.