Death Sucks

by Andrew Mallen

  Maria nodded then asked a question Bobby had a thousand times, “How did you end up in Hell?”

  There’s the million dollar question.

  “I wish I knew.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Jones, he was the head prick in Reaper school, said it was part of my punishment. He was a real sick individual so I don’t know if he was messing with me or not. All the others knew though, the other Reapers, every single one of them knew why they were there except me.”

  “You don’t remember your life?”

  “I remember some of it, little pieces, but no big, like, ta-da you’re going to Hell for that moment.”

  “Do you remember your death?” Maria pushed, ever so gently.

  “Nope.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nothing about an Angel or a Reaper?”

  Nope. Not me. Not poor Bobby. All I got was screwed, hard and fast.

  “Nope. Nothing. Nada.”

  “That can’t be right,” Maria replied, politely appalled. “All are to be given a choice at forgiveness, a chance at redemption. It is one of the most sacred Laws.”

  Laws are made to be broken, right? I bet there’s one about getting to the job on time too but we know how that goes.

  “If you say so but you guys seem to have a real problem getting to the dead on time. Maybe the Angel sent to save me stopped for a latte or something.”

  Maria frowned.

  “Or maybe a few decided the job isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and quit, and now there’s not enough to go around?”

  “No,” Maria missed the sarcasm. “Our number has always been equal to yours, it is part of the pact.”

  The pact? Jones mentioned a pact but I was too busy being tortured to hear what he was saying.

  Bobby frowned and shook his head.

  “Didn’t you learn about the pact?” Maria asked.

  “Jones mentioned it but it sounded kinda fishy and I was a little busy.”

  “Would you like me to explain it?”

  Girl I’d listen to you read the dictionary and love every second.

  He nodded.

  “God and Satan, we can use those names if you prefer, most people know them.”

  “How many names do they have?”

  “A lot but I only know my Lord’s. Esha was His first, the one He chose for Himself.”

  “Esha?” Bobby frowned. “Weird.”

  “It is the word for love in the first language.”

  Oops.

  Bobby shrugged, “Still kinda weird though.”

  Maria shook her head then continued, “They made a pact, an eternally binding agreement. They agreed that the dead must be claimed by champions, that’s us. Everything about the champions was agreed upon; our number, our weapons and our purpose. God chose only the purest souls. Satan chose the opposite, the evil hearted. Only one thousand of each are assigned to every world. To cheat, to appoint more champions or to create them outside the agreed-upon standard, would break the pact. The pact is the only thing that keeps Satan imprisoned, so, as you can imagine, it is very important that it is never, ever broken.”

  Maria watched Bobby as his mind worked to absorb the information.

  “I’m not evil hearted!” he cried once he realized the implication.

  “You must be.”

  “But I’m not! No way!”

  “How can you say that for sure if you can’t remember?” Maria pointed out the obvious flaw in his argument.

  True.

  “But I claimed people who were no way close to one hundred percent evil, just screw ups.”

  “But you don’t know if they were to become Reapers.”

  “True,” Bobby needed her to know he wasn’t who she thought he was but couldn’t think of a way to do it. “So let’s just say it turns out Satan is taking shortcuts, like using people who don’t qualify to make Reapers?”

  “The pact will be broken,” Maria replied, her tone deadly serious.

  “And…?”

  “It would force God to destroy Satan and his world, and to release all those poor souls who suffer there.”

  “What?” Bobby couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you telling me He would just fucking swoop in, kill Satan and let everyone go!”

  “Language,” the Angel snapped.

  Oops. Easy.

  “Sorry.”

  Maria moved on, “I don’t know exactly how, but yes.”

  “Why doesn’t He just do it anyway?”

  “He made a pact.”

  So He’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier.

  “Who makes a deal with the devil? Isn’t that like the theme of every country music song and every kids fable ever written?”

  “He was tricked.”

  “Tricked? Him? The Almighty One got scammed?”

  “Yes, He is not perfect. Satan was…is His brother. He was jealous of God. He wanted what God had. He meant to take every world, every existence, and corrupt them. God did not see His brother’s evil or his intentions until it was too late. God is good, pure, loving and forgiving. Satan used that against Him.”

  Sister, you’re singing a completely different tune from the one I heard down there.

  “Holy sh…shitake mushrooms! This, this whole thing, life and death, it’s all because Satan conned God into a bad deal?” Bobby’s head hurt just trying to wrap itself around the stupidity of it.

  “It was more than that,” Maria corrected him sternly. “It was a truce.”

  “A truce because God didn’t have the balls to fight the bastard!”

  “Please don’t speak that way.”

  Staying PG isn’t going to be easy with her dropping bombs like this!

  Bobby nodded, he didn’t trust himself to speak.

  “God loved him… loves him. He could not, He will not harm him,” Maria said it with pride.

  So He’s not only stupid, He’s a coward. Great.

  “You see how messed up that is right? You see how absolutely ridiculous it sounds? Hell and Satan exist because God’s too nice! Millions of people are burning down there or wherever but that’s just fine and dandy as long as God abides by some wacky deal He was fooled into making! And here’s another heaping scoop of sand in the Vaseline, bad guys don’t follow the rules. Satan is like the baddest of the bad guy’s right? There is no way he’s down there obeying the one rule that keeps him locked up!”

  Maria said nothing but her silent admission only enraged Bobby even more.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Bobby roared and in utter disbelief.

  Maria’s hand dropped to the handle of her sword as she watched to see if the Reaper’s rage would get the better of him. Bobby saw her reaction and knew he’d crossed a line.

  Calm down dick. She didn’t do it. She’s not the bad guy…girl here.

  “Sorry.” He showed her his palms. “I’m just having a bit of a hard time with this. It’s a big pill to swallow, a freaking giant, nasty, mindboggling pill.”

  Maria stared and waited.

  Roger began to snore.

  *

  Bobby leaned back against the wall and let time soothe him. Maria had retreated to the far side of the small room where she watched and waited in wary silence. Bobby had heard some crazy shit in his day, but her story was by far the craziest.

  Brother or not, an asshole is an asshole. If you got an asshole for a brother, you know it better than anyone. You gotta live with him and you know what he’s capable of. Handing a sicko like Satan the keys to his own world and filling it with victims for his eternal amusement, that shit is all sorts of crazy.

  Satan was definitely cheating. Bobby would bet his life on it if he had one. The devil was building an army and grabbing everyone he could to do it. He’d eventually have the numbers and the power to do what he failed to do the first time, to take over. It was crystal clear to Bobby.

  How does nobody else see it?r />
  “This guy’s playing God for a fool, you know that right? He’s using God’s weakness against Him again and if God doesn’t wake up soon He’s going to end up on the wrong side of a pitch fork!” he shouted suddenly after losing the battle with his temper.

  Brow creased, cheeks flushed red from beneath glaring eyes, she whispered, forcing the words through clenched teeth, “God is good.”

  “Satan isn’t though! He’s already building his numbers and he isn’t doing it for shits and giggles!”

  “You don’t know that,” Maria snapped back.

  “I do know it. Hell is booming girl! Booming! They’re pushing out Reapers like a Ford assembly line down there. They’re banging them out by the dozen, maybe by the hundreds, all with that new Reaper smell.”

  “We are true and just. My Lord will…”

  “This isn’t the Girl Scouts! We’re not talking about bake sales and sewing badges here Maria! We’re talking about war. War isn’t about justice and truth. War is about killing and conquering. If Satan is doing what I think he is, then we’re all in some deep shit here. Do you really think he’s going to play fair? He’s not, I guarantee it! Someone had to talk a little sense into your Lord because if HE doesn’t get a reality check pretty soon then you’re all fucked! Everyone will be super-fucked!”

  “Language!”

  “Seriously?”

  “You don’t know that. You’re just guessing…making stuff up. You’re on his side, this is just…just another trick!”

  “I swear I’m not!” Bobby realized that from her point a real Reaper would do just that.

  “Bad guys don’t follow the rules right?” she snapped.

  Well played girl.

  “I understand you don’t trust me. I’m wearing this f-ing robe, I got the pale skin and the weird claws and I’m carrying this stupid thing, I get it. But I’m not a bad guy. I’m not.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do.”

  “You said you didn’t.”

  “I don’t know the details exactly but…”

  “No buts. You’re good or you’re bad. Right now I see bad. Right now I see a bad guy saying bad things about my Lord. That’s what they all do, what you all do.”

  Ouch. The gloves are off now.

  “I’m trying to help.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not right!”

  “Not right for you?”

  Damn, that was rough. Go easy Bobby, sticks and stones.

  “Not right for anyone. People are suffering, I’ve seen it. Good people are being dragged off to Hell when they’ve done nothing to deserve it! It’s not right Maria, it’s gotta stop!”

  Maria stared at Bobby.

  Bobby stared back.

  Roger went on snoring like a bulldog with sleep apnea.

  *

  “We can prove it,” Bobby offered gently after a lot of time doing a lot of thinking.

  “Prove what?”

  “Prove that Satan is breaking the pact.”

  “How?”

  “We get evidence that Reapers are stealing souls before they’re given a chance to ask for forgiveness.”

  Maria didn’t want to believe the Reaper but she felt herself doing it anyway. He was so adamant about it and so angry. If he was lying, then he was really good at it but she couldn’t think of any reason he would, or what he stood to gain. “And how do we do that?”

  She said do, not would. And we, she said we. She’s really thinking about it. She believes me.

  “I have an idea.”

  Maria’s brow wrinkled again.

  Bobby smiled.

  *

  “You’re crazy!” Maria shouted.

  “It’ll work,” Bobby insisted yet again.

  Maria was pacing the hallway outside Roger’s hospital room like an expecting father. “No. No way!”

  “You have to at least admit that it could work,” Bobby pushed.

  “It’s too much interference, we can’t do that. We don’t know anything about Roger. He might have a family. We can’t just herd him down a path without any regard for what and who he is, who he wants to be,” Maria was growing more and more agitated as she spoke.

  “He’s been here two days and hasn’t had a single visitor,” Bobby argued, he knew he had to stay strong if he wanted to change her mind.

  “His mother calls twice a day.”

  So stubborn. Definitely some Irish blood in there.

  “From Cleveland. Not exactly the other side of the planet, right? Definitely not too far away to jump in a car or on a train to visit her son in the hospital. Something is wrong with that and you know it.”

  Maria was already beginning to dread her deal with the Reaper. “No! I can’t. We can’t. It’s against the Laws.”

  “We’re passed that don’t you think?”

  “Well…no!” Maria stopped pacing and sighed. “We’re stuck here but our deal only makes sense because it gives Roger a chance to choose his life. If we guide him, if we coerce him in any way, it will negate that.”

  “But we’ll see what’s really going on. We’ll be able to prove that Satan is fu…messing around. Think big picture here!”

  “No!” Maria snapped and stomped one of her sandal clad feet on the linoleum floor. A nurse passing by, oblivious to the argument taking place, flinched as if she’d heard it. Bobby and Maria froze.

  “You’re going to get us in trouble,” Maria hissed.

  “Me? Really? Besides, I’m already in as much trouble as I can get in,” Bobby said and shrugged.

  “You sure about that?”

  “As long as I’m here I’m okay. If we figure this out, if we get the evidence we need then I might never have to go back there,” Bobby cringed just thinking about stepping back into his dark, heat saturated cell.

  “Evidence?” Maria cried. “This isn’t a cop show! You’re not Kojak!”

  Kojak, really? I was thinking more like Magnum. She really is a 70s girl.

  “This isn’t about saving you! You’re a Reaper, you earned that even if you can’t remember why! We agreed to let Roger live his life and that’s what we are going to do, unless you want to fight for his soul right now and get it over with.”

  You pushed too hard Bobby. Back off.

  Bobby shook his head.

  “Good. I’m done with this. Please, stop.”

  “Okay, no worries, we can let it go for a while.”

  “No, not for a while. Just let it go. I can’t do this, I just can’t.” Maria cried then buried her face in her hands, turned away from Bobby and darted into Roger’s room before he could say another word.

  Nice move asshole! You just made an Angel cry, check that one off your bucket list. Check.

  He slumped against the wall and sunk down onto his heels. He knew he was right. He knew his plan was a bit of a stretch but it would work if only Maria followed along. If Roger died and Bobby went back to Hell he was pretty sure there wouldn’t be a homecoming party waiting, not one he wanted any part of anyway. No balloons, no streamers, no cake for the guest of honor, just torture, pain and eternal suffering.

  Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Gotta take it easy. Roger doesn’t look so bad, he’s no Dwayne Johnson but he’s no Hugh Hefner either. There’s plenty of time, just let it simmer. Be patient. She’s not going to respond to heavy-handed bullshit. You catch more bees with honey or whatever right? Honey it is then. Lots and lots of honey for the beautiful Ms. Maria Sinclair.

  Bobby sat and watched the living live. Doctors, nurses, visitors and patients passed back and forth in an endless stream along the corridor. None of them knew one of Satan’s servants sat outside room 3112 strategizing about how to betray his Master. He was as unseen to them as they were to him.

  How long before they miss me? How long before they find out I’m messing around up here? Will they send someone to get me? Are there Reaper police or bounty hunters hunting me already? What will they do to me? How long do I have? S
o many questions and not one fucking answer.

  4.

  Flushing General released Roger on November thirteenth, three days after he died. In a pair of sweats that were a few sizes too small and a hoodie that was older than he was, all courtesy of the hospital’s lost and found, he thanked everyone he could find, signed himself out and headed for the lobby. The security guard called him a cab and it showed up not five minutes later. Roger hopped in along with his two new shadows.

  “Landing Apartments, Glen Cove,” Roger said as he closed the door.

  “What? I don’t know where this is my friend,” the driver replied without turning around.

  “LIE east to exit 39,” Roger simplified sharply.

  “Okay, no problem,” the driver replied and swerved out into traffic without even a glance in the rearview mirror.

  “City cab drivers right?” Bobby chirped from where he sat beside the driver.

  “It’s not an easy job,” Maria replied.

  Always half-full this girl.

  “You’re right,” Bobby tried to play nice.

  Maria hadn’t said much since their argument in the hallway but she seemed to be coming around. What choice did she have, she was an Angel, forgiving was kind of her thing.

  “Are you a Long Island girl?” Bobby asked figuring small-talk might lighten the mood.

  “No, I have never been outside Queens,” Maria replied as she watched the bustle of Queens Boulevard blur past through the dirt clouded window.

  “I mean when you were alive,” Bobby said realizing he knew next to nothing about her.

  “No, I was only in New York once, when I was very young, to see the tree, you know, for Christmas.”

  “Yeah, Rockefeller Center, been there a few times,” Bobby remembered hating the crowds, the noise and the smell of exhaust fumes mixed with roasting chestnuts. “Wait, I remember! I remember!”

  “That’s great! Everything?”

  Bobby searched but found nothing else and shook his head.

  “Maybe you just need a little help. When I told you about my life, you remembered yours.”

  Clever girl.

  “Right, so…um, tell me where you grew up.”

  “Cape Cod,” Maria revealed with a smile. “Brewster to be exact, its mid-cape.”