Chapter Two
Wraith
I look over the room from beneath my hood, knowing that no one will be able to tell where my eyes are aimed. There are well over a thousand in the room today, something that has become the norm, but I still hate it. There’s so much death day after day, and I would know, wouldn’t I?
Pushing back my hood, I let my hand fall to Donovan’s head, where he sits at my side in his hellhound form.
“You’re all dead. Welcome to the afterlife. Don’t be concerned if you don’t remember much about your life, as it will come back to you slowly over the next few weeks. I know some of you might think I’m joking about you being dead, but you’ll learn soon enough that I don’t joke about much. None of you will remember how you died right now—many of you likely will never remember. Just know that you died violently before your time, and that’s why you’re here. I’m offering the chance of a lifetime, or at least of an afterlife-time.”
Tough crowd.
I guess I shouldn’t have tried to tell a joke after saying I don’t joke about much.
“You’re in our receiving room at Scythe Academy, a six-month program where you will learn how to become a reaper. Not all of you will make it to the end. In fact, most of you won’t. Don’t let that stop you from trying. If you don’t try, you’re sure to fail, and then you’ll be left to the Judges ruling on which part of the underworld you belong in. For most of you, that might not seem so bad, but since you don’t remember what kind of life you led, do you really want to take that chance?”
There’s murmuring throughout the crowd, but no one speaks up.
“Reapers, as I’m sure you know, are the ones who collect the souls of the dead. While it might seem easy, there’s a bit more to it than that. Which is what you’ll learn at the academy. We’ll train you both mentally and physically. We’ll teach you the new powers you have as a reaper, as well as help you explore any changes in your powers from when you were alive You’ll find that most of you in this room were supernaturals before you died. I’m sure you’re wondering why, considering humans are more fragile than supernaturals. What you might not know is that the number of humans being murdered daily has drastically reduced since supernaturals revealed themselves to the world.”
More murmurs fill the room, and I realize that most of them probably didn’t have a damn clue. Most living people aren’t aware of what’s going on around them—both humans and supernaturals alike. Most of their lifetimes are just too short. They only care about themselves and those closely connected to them. If they were more aware, maybe there would be less death every day.
Being a creature of death has given me a different perspective on life—one I wish others shared.
“After this meeting, you will meet with a member of staff who will bring you to your suites. As we have over a thousand new reaper prospects per day, there are many dorm buildings. All of you who arrived today will be placed on the same floor, with eight per suite. There will be cuts made daily, so don’t expect to have that many suitemates for long. Once the first month or two has passed, if you’re still here, then you’ll be moved to a more permanent dorm where you won’t be required to share a room.”
I see some heads pop up at that and barely manage to not roll my eyes. “We do these welcomings at midnight every day, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow. When you’re shown to the dorms by the staff, you’ll be given any information you’ll need for tomorrow. While your classes won’t start until the day after tomorrow, you’ll still have orientation and a tour tomorrow.”
“Scythe Academy isn’t for the weak. If you don’t put in the work, you’ll be cut on the spot. We don’t have time to waste on you if you’re not even trying. You might think my words are cruel, but this is how things have to run now. Long ago, there weren’t nearly the number of candidates because there were fewer people and, therefore, fewer murders. But as populations grew, so did the murder rate. That’s when we founded the academy because while we might need a large number of reapers as the population continues to grow, we don’t need a thousand new ones every day. There had to be a way to filter through and find the best of the best. Now, it’s your turn to figure out if you’re going to be the best of the best.”
I lift my hood over my head, ready to step back into the shadows, when a voice calls out, “But what if I don’t want to be a reaper?”
I loosen my hold on the hood, allowing it to fall back again as my eyes seek the person who spoke. It takes me a moment for my eyes to land on the man, who’s attempting to hide behind a woman half his size.
Narrowing my eyes on him, I ask, “And why wouldn’t you want to be a reaper?”
If there’s a growl to my question, an unspoken threat, what can I really do? Someone always asks this question. Why can’t they just accept what I’ve told them and save their questions for the staff members? I really need to assign someone else to do these welcomings. I don’t have the patience to deal with the newbies, but I feel like it’s not something I can push off onto someone else. This is my school, after all.
When the man doesn’t speak up, dropping his head, I have to bite back my laughter.
That’s what I thought, asshole.
Too bad I can see the questions in the eyes of others around the room. I’m not getting out of here without telling them what’s waiting for them if they don’t make it as a reaper.
I don’t even know why I bother.
This time, I don’t bother hiding my eye roll as I stare back at them. I don’t usually sleep much anyway, but they’re going to regret making this last longer when they have to be up early for orientation. There are other things I’d much rather be doing, but it’s fine. I’ll keep talking if that’s what they want.
Donovan lets out a growling bite of laughter, and I shoot him an unamused look. Maybe I should make him start doing the welcomings. He won’t be laughing then.