Chapter 14 Peter
PETER
Ishouldn’t have slipped into Faye’s dreams. What the hell was I thinking?
You were thinking that you missed her. After sensing her distress, if you didn’t see her you were going to drive yourself insane!
Still, breaking into her dreams was a huge violation. It was only meant to help grievers cope with their loss, not for his selfish desire to see and comfort her.
If I wasn’t such a coward, I would’ve gone to her place.
But with Gregory checking in on him spontaneously, he couldn’t risk losing his place in Foxford. Or worse, having my charges signed over to some stranger who doesn’t know Foxford or the complexities of collecting within a sanctuary town.
“Are you listening to me, or is watching ice melt really that fascinating?” Benoit asked, distracting Peter from his inner turmoil.
“Sorry. I had a long day in purgatory. Soul sorting has a way of numbing the brain.” Peter forced himself to focus on the pounding music and stench of perfume and fresh sweat in the Tokyo karaoke bar. He couldn’t get much further from home or Faye.
“Death be good, I’m glad those desk days are behind me. I’d rather tear my soul apart than return to sorting. I thought you were happy with your assignment in Foxford; why are you back at a desk?” Benoit asked, sipping his whiskey sour as they sat at the bar surrounded by the living.
It was nice to get out of Purgatory, but Peter would rather have been in Foxford with Faye or his family. Gregory still didn’t trust him; he had set up tonight’s meeting with Senior Reaper Benoit, a higher-up in the Expired Collections Division.
“I am, but a change of scenery for a few years won’t hurt. Besides, Foxford isn’t going anywhere.” He was playing along with Gregory’s story, but maybe a change of scenery was a good idea. Invading Faye’s dream was just another example of how he couldn’t trust himself.
“Our work isn’t easy. You’ll need additional training to collect disturbed and displaced souls, which can take years. If you want to join ECD then I’m afraid it’s for the long-term,” Benoit said. Long-term for a Reaper could be ten to a thousand years.
“I understand, and it’s why I wanted to talk to you. You’ve been head of the ECD for three centuries; who better to help me make this decision?”
“Flattery will get you everywhere. Gregory warned me about that Matherson charm,” Benoit chuckled, rounding the corners of his moustache.
“I have to ask – why are we meeting here?” Peter asked, glancing at the singing patrons in every corner of the bar. “We aren’t supposed to talk about official matters amongst the living.”
“I’m on the job, and Gregory insisted we meet sooner rather than later.
A spirit has haunted this place for years.
Every owner has died suspiciously, and I need to put a stop to it before there’s another untimely incident,” Benoit explained.
“No better way to see if you’re up for the task than to throw you in the deep end. ”
“Owning a bar isn’t exactly the safest form of work. What makes you think the deaths are related to an expired collection?” Peter said, glancing over his shoulder at some of the questionable patrons, thinking they were slick as they palmed product to paying customers.
“Because it’s not the first time I’ve dealt with this spirit.
She refuses to move on, but since I believed she wasn’t hurting anyone, and because of the tragic circumstances of her death, we gave her time to accept her fate.
However, with the death of the latest owner, we believe her motives have turned vengeful,” Benoit explained.
It wasn’t unusual for some souls to refuse immediate collection, especially if they needed time to complete unfinished business before they could find peace.
Peter watched as he ordered a shot, drank half, and tipped the remainder onto the bar.
Taking a cigarette from the ashtray of a patron beside them, he lit the spilled alcohol.
Peter’s eyes widened. He was about to slap out the flame when Benoit grabbed his wrist, making them invisible to those around them.
“Wait! Young Reapers really have no patience,” he sighed, releasing him.
The blue flame was contained to the spill. No one else, including the bartenders, noticed it.
A spirit rushed through them, extinguishing the flame.
“I’m not going anywhere, Reaper! This is my home!”
The spirit spoke Japanese, but Reapers understood whatever language was required to complete their collection.
“You’ve overstayed your welcome,” Benoit told her. “I’m afraid this is your last chance to come with us, or we will be forced to remove you by force.”
The spirit’s deranged grin made Peter nervous; her lack of fear was something he’d never witnessed.
Most souls cowered in the presence of a Reaper, but she didn’t even blink.
Strands of greasy hair, fallen free from her loose plait, covered the parts of her face that were burned –evidence of her gruesome, painful death.
“Oh, really?” She looked behind the bar and clenched a fist. At once, all the bartenders clutched their throats. To the humans waiting for their drinks, they looked like they were simply choking.
“Release them!” Benoit ordered.
The spirit sighed and relaxed her pale hand. Her skin was so grey, it was practically transparent. The humans recovered quickly, sharing a nervous look and laugh before returning to their interrupted orders, all unaware of how close they had come to death.
“Harming the living is forbidden, Yumi, but I’ve to admit that making the owners’ deaths look like accidents was clever.
However, your work has become sloppy. We’ve interrogated the spirits of your victims over the decades, and they had one thing in common: the owners were visited by vengeful women in their dreams days before their accidents.
You’ve fooled so many of us over the years, and Reapers don’t like being tricked,” Benoit said calmly.
“I allowed you to linger here all these decades because you promised to refrain from harming others, but you’ve failed to keep your end of the bargain. So, I’ve come to collect.”
“I want revenge!” Yumi snapped, exposing her ink-black gums and stained teeth.
“You already got your revenge; this is no longer your home. You’ve already claimed the lives of every owner. All but the first had no clue of what was done to you to secure this building.”
“They burnt down my home, they killed my family. They took everything from me!” she snarled, gripping her singed nightgown with her fists.
Peter understood why Benoit had used the flame to bring the spirit out. Expired souls’ grudges were their weakness; the easiest way to lure them out was to use their pain.
“And they paid for it. You quite literally scared them to death. Now you’re harming innocents, just like you and your family were all those decades ago. It’s time for you to rest.”
Yumi gave a creepy chuckle. “How many Reapers have tried and failed to take me from my home? I’ll leave when I’m ready.”
“I’m afraid this isn’t your home any longer, and we can’t allow you to keep taking lives,” Benoit said. “I’m sorry, Yumi, but if you had come with us earlier, we could have reunited you with your family.”
“My family is gone,” Yumi snarled. Her eyes turned black as pitch as her mouth salivated black foam, and blue veins bulged from her grey skin. She charged at Benoit, but the Reaper drew his scythe and cut down the spirit in one fatal stroke.
Blinding white sparks filled Peter’s vision, and he covered his eyes. He had never seen such an old, powerful soul destroyed before.
Benoit put away his scythe, and Peter reminded himself not to get on his bad side.
The power emanating from Yumi’s destruction had nearly knocked him off his feet, though the patrons of the crowded bar remained completely unaware of what had happened.
At most, they would experience the prickling of their skin, or the sensation that someone had ‘walked over their grave’, as the energy dispersed.
“You made it look so easy,” Peter said, hoping he’d one day be as skilled with his scythe – not only for his protection, but for the passing of the spirit. A quick destruction was the only mercy they could have given her.
“I might make it look easy, but Yumi was powerful,” Benoit said, looking a little unsteady. “I need to splash some water on my face. You good here?”
“Take your time.” Peter nodded, making himself visible to the living once more as he reclaimed their spot at the bar. He couldn’t imagine the exhaustion Benoit must be feeling after expelling so much energy to take her down in one strike.
One minute he was sipping a whiskey sour, and the next it felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. He clutched it as Benoit returned.
“You’re looking a little pale.”
“I’m fine.” Peter forced a smile and cleared his throat, but the feeling didn’t subside.
“You don’t have to put on a brave front.
Soul destruction is hard to witness, but if you decide to join us, this is the reality of the job.
Dealing with the deepest depths of pain, anger and loss.
It’s not for the weak of heart, and it’s why we usually don’t recruit Reapers as young as you, but you handled yourself well,” Benoit said, clapping him on the shoulder.
“The first time I witnessed such a disfigured soul, I threw up and passed out after the energy knocked me into a wall.”
“It was definitely a force I’ve never felt before,” Peter said, wondering if the weight on his chest was the lingering effects of Yumi’s power.
“I figured this would be the best way to show you what you’d be dealing with daily.
It’s not a decision to make lightly. I was a century into collecting before I joined ECD, and I’d already mentored several souls before that,” Benoit said.
“However, if you’re committed to learning, and since Gregory vouches for you, I’d be happy to talk with the rest of the team and mentor you myself. ”