Death

I Truly Hate Being Kidnapped and Taken to Different Dimensions

Ah, yeah, you knew that it wasn't going to end there.  Am I already that predictable?  Maybe I am.  Or maybe the author is?  See, did you think that was coming?  Fourth wall is what?  This is so bad.  Oh well.  Just ignore the plot holes and pretend I'm omniscient.  Or wait for the explanation.  There might be one.  How do I know you exist?  Simple answer: I could never unsee that face of yours.  I mean, have you looked in a mirror recently?

I'm sorry, that was rude.  I'll get to the story now.

I woke up with a splash of water to the face.  My kidnapper was gone, and there was a man in a hooded cloak glaring at me.  He had a large glowing scythe resting on his shoulders and around his neck.  That seemed a little dangerous, but who was I to judge?  Mortician, that's who.

"Are you immortal, or will the scythe slice off your head if I pull it towards me?" I asked.

He glared at me.  "Yes," he answered.

"To which question?"

"Whichever one you think I was answering."

"Both?  You're immortal, but I can still cut your head off?"

I took his silence as a yes. He left the room, grumbling about how he wasn't getting paid enough to talk to sarcastic demi-humans.

Demi-humans? What were those? According to the glaring man, I was one, but wouldn't that mean that I wasn't human? I thought about that, and then laughed. Was there ever any doubt?

The woman who had kidnapped me came in. "Magic, huh?" I said as a way of starting the conversation.  She nodded.

"Welcome to Purgatory, Hell, and Heaven.  They're all the same thing," she said.  If I was religious, I would have been crushed.  Since I wasn't, I didn't care beyond a passing interest.

"What are you?" I asked calmly.  I was surprised at how calm I was.  Well, seeing dead bodies for fifteen years will do that to you, I supposed.

"That's hard to explain in human terms.  Simply put, we are death.  You might think of us as reapers, but that's not really correct.  There are lots of different jobs in Ha- I mean, here.  Mine is to hunt down Desirables and Undesirables, recruiting and taking where needed," she explained, leaving me more confused than before.

"Um, if I was recruited, wouldn't that be the same as taking?" I asked.

"No, taking is completely different.  If I'd taken you, you would be in the Hell portion of Ha- this place," she said.

Interesting.  That was the second time she'd almost said the name of the place I was in.  "My mother?" I asked.

"A former member of the Seventh Death Squadron.  A highly decorated soldier in the great war against... them.  I'm a Hunter, not a soldier.  Bounty hunter, you might call me, but, well... It's different.  I am to bounty hunters as privateers are to pirates," she said.

"You work for a government," I said.  She nodded.  "And I haven't been taken."  She nodded.  I sat back.  "That will be all, thank you," I said, closing my eyes.  She didn't move.  I opened them.  "Go away," I said clearly and succinctly.  She still didn't move.

"No, I'm afraid I can't do that.  You see, we are in particular need of your skills as a demi-human."

"I don't think so.  Go away."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Leave."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Go away!"

"No."

"Gah!"

"Yes."

"Drop me back at home."

"No."

"I'm hungry."

"We have food."

"I'm not hungry for death food!  I know about Persephone and the pomegranate of death!  I'm not staying here forever!"

"Yes, you are."