The Reaper's Name is Kindness

3. Against Protocol

The glow from the archway fizzled out behind 1-8 as the muted mirror of the living world finally began to register in their mind. They took a pause, remembering that they were still in the Place Between and their surroundings were simply a replica of the assignment's last earthly domain.

The young psychopomp did a quick scan of the surrounding area, taking in the environment they knew may have to change should the need arise. They stood in the afterimage of a hospital corridor; the color of the brick hallway now muted by the Between. What should have been a bright green hopeful stripe running along the hospital's sterile white hallways, was now faded like an old photograph. 1-8 suspected that even without the filter of the Between, the hospital wing in which they stood wouldn't be an all too cheerful place.

1-8 took careful steps down the hallway, still observing their environment and preparing themself for the coming confrontation with their first assignment. The corridor gently curved continuously to the psychopomp's right, and they assumed that the real one would eventually loop back around to where they had once stepped through the archway.

Standing off to the side by an open door was the unmistakable shape of Feather, their sweater and slacks now replaced by the same ashen cloak that covered 1-8's own body. Feather pushed themself from where they leaned against the door's frame and looked expectantly toward their inexperienced counterpart.

"Perfect, you didn't get lost. Are you ready?" 1-8 nodded, not wanting their words to get caught on the way out.

"Excellent, and remember, don't be afraid to take a quick dip into their mind if you find yourself getting stuck."

1-8 opened their mouth to speak, their mind taking great effort to finally push coherent words out. The gravity of what they needed to do was beginning to weigh on them, stifling their attempt to speak.

"Will she be able to see you while we're in there? I don't really know if having a second mysterious figure standing just outside her peripherals will do much good."

"No, my presence will not be physical once you begin. If for some reason you need help, then I will be available to you," Feather stated as they waggled one of their hands in reassurance.

"Understood. Am I free to begin?"

With a confirming nod from Feather, 1-8 steeled themself and slipped into the door. Welcoming them on the other side was the form of their assignment sitting in her hospital bed gazing longingly around the empty room. With the sudden change in the atmosphere caused by the psychopomp's entrance, her gaze shifted to the once-empty doorway. She did not wear the expression of shock or great confusion that 1-8 expected from a newly departed who has just seen what they believed to be the physical incarnation of death. Instead, she wore the quiet, simple look of understanding.

1-8 let the empty silence of the Between continue as they shared eye contact with the assignment. They could feel the influence of Feather on their shoulder, trying to push them to begin the standard introduction. 1-8 couldn't push themself to begin speaking, no matter how hard they and Feather urged their mind to summon the words.

The assignment's head tilted to the side in expectation as the silence carried on much further than 1-8 had ever intended. 1-8 broke their shared gaze with the now departed woman and flicked their vision over the room, spotting a chair that they knew could easily be replicated in the Between.

The psychopomp moved from the doorway and made an obvious show of grabbing the chair – not before first apparating a physical one with a simple wave of their hand – pulling it over to the hospital bed's side, and sitting down only a few feet from the recently departed's position. All the while, they could feel the urging and questioning of Feather in their mind.