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Well, after the results from the first chapter, I know one person who wanted to see more and that's all the motivation I need. ^v^
Please review and enjoy!

Chapter 2

“Alright! Breaktime! How long has it been? A century? Two?” Alcyone smiled and stretched out her tired arms and legs toward the dark cloudy sky as they trudged through tall fresh-green grass toward a strange interaction of large stone monoliths, creating what appeared to be gateways.

Many of these gateways closed in on other distinctly placed blocks in a horseshoe-like shape, as though to protect them from outsiders. Small stones encircled these gateways a short distance away and one specific stone acted as a distraction to Alcyone’s eyes as it glinted with fresh sprinkles of rain. As a result, she just had to stoop down and admire the rock as it changed from a light, sun-dried gray-white to a dark smoky color not unlike the clouds above which started to release even more raindrops.

“No, Alcyone. Death said this was an important meeting and he has something that he needed to tell us. I suggest you pay a little attention this time as opposed to making those flower chains for your hood. As I recall, they did not last very long when you decided to make one for Connor,” Albireo stared at her for a moment with utter sternness, then gently pulled her back up and led her toward a specific gateway that both of them had made their focus.

She hesitantly complied with an immature sigh and skipped forward as she replied, swaying her arms with the light breeze, “Well, just because he ate them, didn’t mean he didn’t like them.”

He decided not to push her to act like a normal reaper for the whole meeting. If anything, she was the cheeriest of the seven and he knew that without her, the others would be…

“…A bunch of old duffers! You and the others!” she muttered playfully under her breath, the tip of her tongue stuck out to add effect, and added, “I think the laurel is a colorful addition to our outfits! I think wearing them will lead the souls to be less frightened of us.”

“You don’t make laurels out of daisy stems!” Albireo interjected, “They’re made from grape vines or something similar. Anyways, those souls need to be afraid at least some of the time, Alcyone. The fear of being judged doesn’t seem to do any effect for most people when they’re alive, so we should instill that fear when they’re dead.”

“That might not do much good on our end, though. Meeting us is one of the last thoughts they have before they go Beyond. Besides, I bet you’re just arguing because you don’t like flowers. Silly Alby…” She laughed, spread her arms out like a child imitating a bird and spun around, primitively dancing through the gateway, leaving him standing in the grass, sighing and shaking his head as the rain poured down now more than ever.

Albireo followed through the gate as the rain passed through him, ignoring his existence entirely, and stepped onto thick, rouge red carpet as he huffed and crossed his arms defensively.

In front of them, they surveyed a large living room with seven different chairs, surrounding a cozy, low level, wooden coffee table as a centerpiece with a crackling fireplace in the background.

The chairs themselves took up much of the scenery with a simple wooden rocking chair with a wicker seat at one spot in the ellipse, while one held a prim-and-proper feeling with sequined borders, straight back and footstool accompaniment. A couple on the opposite side were worn and tattered as their cushions bore a familiar imprint and held a few small holes in random places. One specifically looked like an animal had used the object as a scratching post, even, while next to that sat an enormous sky blue beanbag, the normally empty dent representing where one of the Reapers would reside. Alcyone noted her own seat—a wide armchair made of velvet fabric and tinted the color of blackberry juice—and couldn’t help but smile, knowing that it had been such a long time since she had seen a piece of familiarity.

It would be nearly impossible to find all of these different chairs in one spot on the mortal plane, but each of them put their occupiers at ease in such a way that no mortal could tell whether or not the chairs happened to have different appearances.

Two other reapers were sitting comfortably in their respective thrones, their feet up on the rounded mahogany table, telling interesting stories about what happened to them over the past years, including a family who had been shot to death after they were held captive by their own government.

“…They were all frightened and crying, you know, since they were just massacred. I don’t think I ever saw bodies in worse condition, just bullet-ridden and their skulls smashed in like they’d been foot soldiers in the First World War. Even I felt sorry for them. At the first look, no one would have any idea that they were royal. Even the father was sobbing with his daughters, the mother mostly with their son. And when I came up and took my hood off, I thought they would go crazy with fear. Too bad I never knew where they went to in Beyond…”

Alcyone looked back through the gate and stared at the green field they just stepped from and stuck her head out of the room for a few seconds.

“So, it’s Alby, now? First, you go Olde English on me and call me ‘fellow’ for one moment and now you’re being childish…” he muttered to himself and sighed as he saw her peek through the gate.

“What can I say? I’m a timeless treasure.” Alcyone sounded distracted from looking up at the pearl-white ceiling then popping her head out to stare at the dark gray sky as raindrops the size of marbles showered the grass, “This weirds me out every time.”

Albireo pulled her back in to keep her from getting dizzy and pointed out the matching couch and loveseat set on one side of the room to keep her occupied as a voice rang out, “Albireo?”

“Yes, yes, I’m here!” he sat down next to the reaper who called him.

“You know, you shouldn’t treat Alcyone like a child. She can take care of herself,” one of them drawled almost sleepily.

“Sometimes, that’s quite the contrary. You saw her just now…” he settled himself in the sequined seat.

“Oh, she does that all the time. Just let her be.” The other spoke up waving his hand as if to brush away his statement, “Anyways, does anyone know where the others are? They should have been here already, especially the Original. He called the meeting after all.”

“Who knows? The souls have been getting more aggressively troublesome. Maybe one of us has been attacked.” Albireo suggested.

At once, the three other reapers appeared through the doorway, stretched and settled down.

“That wouldn’t set any of us behind, you know. If anything, it speeds up the process and they’re outta there!” one of the three arriving reapers, this one shaped in the form of a cloaked cat, explained, as he stretched and clawed on his chair before curling up in the seat.

Original Death stood in front of his chair, which resembled a time-worn office chair with the plastic cushion slowly peeling away, observing the other five occupants and one empty velvet armchair next to him.

“Where is Alcyone?” he took off his hood to speak clearer with his thick, commanding voice, revealing a ghostly white head. His bald scalp almost shined with the fire and his black eyes sparkled like a night sky in open country.

“Over here!” she popped up from the cushion fort like a prairie dog, smiling and waving slightly as her head lifted a cushion of the roof.

“Won’t you come over here? We’ve something to discuss.”

“Emm…” she deliberated for a minute, “I nominate Albireo as my ambassador for, mmm, Couchtown! Yes, Couchtown. Or should it be Cushion City…”she stopped in thought, finger to her lip, “The name is currently anonymous! Anyways, take any issues up with him as I establish a political system! Direct democracy or socialism…?” her voice faded as she lowered herself into the cushion building, all eyes staring in curiosity.

“What? Wait a minute…!” Albireo turned to look at her with wide eyes and grumbled, “Oh, I don’t believe this…”

Original Death smiled and whispered in Albireo’s ear and grudgingly, Albireo stood and walked over to her with a pout on his face and said to Alcyone, “A Mister Death requests your presence for a discussion concerning the city’s commerce. Details shall be revealed at the conference.”

Alcyone raised an eyebrow at him and replied, “Will there be pastries?”

“Eh…” he looked back at Death, who nodded and smiled at him, “It is my belief that there might –I mean! There will be, um, pastries.”

“Aaah! Goody!” she jumped, destroying the fort in the process, and joined the others, sitting upside down in her chair, legs against the back and head dangling from the edge, completing the scene as the fire burned brighter in the background.

The reapers chuckled slightly and Death sunk into his chair to commence the meeting, saying calmly, “Welcome back, everyone. I hope that these past years haven’t been too aggravating.”

Everyone burst into talk and laughter for a short time, but slowed to a stop as Death raised his hands with a smile to quell them.

Death drew breath to speak softly, “Last time we gathered, Albireo brought up the question of another split in order to receive more help dealing with the increasing amount of souls that pass through this plane. I contemplated doing so many a time, believe me. But I fear that fission will alter each one of us, causing much more strain than we feel now. The bond we have will stretch even further. To bring another Death into being, I believe, would put it under so much strain, in fact, that it wouldn’t function properly as a reaper, and I don’t think we would function any better than we do now. So, for a long while I was at a standstill and couldn’t think of anything that could help us.

“Lately, however, I’ve been pondering a different concept, but a few rules may have to be bent…”

“Rule bendin’?” one of the reapers taking the form of a curly-haired black girl with a Southern accent leaned forward, “But we don’t know of any rules here! Here’s just No Man’s Land, the plane between the livun’s world and what is Beyond. Does your plan have anything to do with disrupting these boundaries?”

“No, Almach, none of us here can do that. Even if we could, there would be utter chaos, since so many people would step out of Earth and into their version of Paradise. Everyone would leave for their Paradise and leave Perdition empty, making Paradise not as it should be. Hell and its alternate existences exist to keep the bad souls from Paradise, to atone for evil deeds they have committed over their lifetime.”

“But then, what is the line between good and evil? What makes people qualified to spend their time in damnation?” Alcyone situated herself in the chair to where her legs and head were hanging over each of the armrests respectively and started in a monotone voice, “I picked up some people today who thought bombing people was a good deed in the eyes of their God. I’m not sure if they reached Paradise or not, but I don’t think that their idea of good blends well with most others.”

“Some even lie about their religion, thinking they might get the best of us when we’re not really the deciders of their fate,” Albireo pointed out, “Just today, I found someone who said he was Atheist, when he was clearly Catholic. His room was decorated with crosses all over the walls and he even had a shrine of Mary in front of his bed. The poor boy committed suicide, though, so I could understand his plight.”

Death stood and started to pace in front of his chair, fiddling with his hands and rolling his wrists, making small, sporadic gestures.

“I don’t think that their decision to lie has anything to do with where they go,” Death shook his hands, denying the current conversation and returning to what he meant to say, “Anyways, that’s not my point. The point is: We need help. Even with the seven of us, there still has been an overflow of people dying and souls running rampant and haunting the living, causing inexplicable phenomenon, et hoc genus omne, not to mention that half of the souls that we do find cause us irritation beyond belief. Even some of the lesser demons are out and about in places they would have kept clear of earlier. Now, especially at this time, the issue of the dead has come by way of murder. This is my belief seen through my experiences. But, say that this is fact for a minute. Preventing murders would mean tampering with humanity’s free will and no possible deity has any power over humanity in that sense, so that’s out of the question.”

He took a deep breath and resumed, “My idea is as such: Since most murderers are more than likely caught and executed by other citizens, we can use those souls to make them clean up the mess of other murders. Give them the power to guide souls to another plane, giving us more time to take care of other souls and, perhaps, even take a day off.”

The other reapers leaned forward in their seats and stared at him in disbelief. Even Alcyone looked him in the eyes, eyebrow raised to question.

Almach spoke, breaking the long silence, “What d’you think the repercussions would be if this plan was put into action?”

“How could we even give them that power?” Albireo scoffed in skepticism, his jaw quivering, when Alcyone interjected as she flipped herself upright.

“It’s possible, Albireo. Stop shaking your jowls, you look like an epileptic cow.”

She turned back to Death, who was still fidgeting with his hands, massaging them nervously.

“Well, I expected this. It’s a very risky idea, giving power to human souls who might very well abuse it. If anything, it might put more pressure on us just overseeing them. They might try and take living souls… They might even try to harm us. They won’t need to sleep or eat – just like us. They won’t share empathy with others like us… Well, for the most part. I know the dangers, so don’t look at me like I’m crazy. Perhaps, they don’t even have to be murderers; they could just be souls that have committed smaller crimes. But, I’m sure that anyone would like the chance to kill someone living for revenge…” Death reluctantly sat back down, struggling to refine his argument.

The other reapers looked at each other, the atmosphere tense with Death’s idea of fledgling reapers and the danger they pose. The act itself had only been done once successfully and the result swayed back and forth silently in the wicker rocking chair.

Alcyone stood and spoke, “I believe it’s a matter of trust. When a person dies, their soul gives off the emotion that they had at the moment of death before they can think. Most of the time, that is fear, but soon after, they show what emotions fit them. Should a soul give off a trustworthy emotion, they might not only learn better from us, they might even be a good deal of help. Maybe we can confide in them even, if that trust grows enough.”

“In any case, I don’t think this should be considered at all,” Ace shook his head, “Wouldn’t the soul’s creed give them a better consequence than we would just handing them the job of reaper?”

“Wait, listen a minute! Maybe they really and truly don’t want to follow their religion or its consequences-!”

Death interrupted with a stark mood in his face, “Just… forget the idea. Souls have always had a chance to change their beliefs in life, those beliefs they have at the time of passing don’t usually change once they die. Those who have done nothing to kill others shouldn’t have to deal with reaping others. They deserve peace in their minds. We shouldn’t keep them from thinking so. Murderers, who most likely aren’t trustworthy, deserve¬–” He stopped and scowled as though he had eaten a lemon – rind and all.

He pushed to finish, “What their creed mandates. Dismissed.”

He walked away from the group and flung his cowl on, mentally berating himself before exiting through the gate and disappearing from the site, leaving the reapers standing frozen before going to confront or comfort him.

Three of them, including Albireo, decided to leave and gave each other their goodbyes.

Alcyone only sat still in thought as Albireo came forth to her, “Well, it will be a while before we meet again.”

“True, but I’m sure we’ll meet sooner than you think,” she smiled and hugged Albireo.

“Aaah! Hey! What do you mean by that?” he struggled out and questioned as he placed his cowl up to hide his twitching lips forming into a smile.

“Let’s just say something smells in Denmark. And it’s not just a heap of corpses.” She crouched and patted his head, leaving him in confusion as he left.

Almach went up to her now and sat on the table corner across from her with another reaper, Connor, standing by her side, his furry black-and-white tail twitching back and forth.

“What do you think is wrong with him? I mean, he’s like our father. You would think he’d tell us,” he said as Almach nodded, her curly bronze-black hair bouncing around her head.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Alcyone smiled and rolled her eyes, “Fathers don’t really leave their kids to do hard labor the day they were created. At least, they aren’t supposed to.”

Almach replied with a pout, “Well, he created us, anyways. Isn’t that enough for us to gain his trust? We know there’s something wrong here, but he’s not telling us. Didja speak to him, Alcyone? Do you know what’s goin’ on?”

Alcyone shook her head slowly, “I know as much as you do, Almach. But I’m sure that whatever he holds back will unravel before us. Time will tell all.”

“It’s too bad that we feel so hurried all the time. Alcyone,” the other reaper sat on the floor and asked, “What do you think about his idea – about souls taking on the job?”

“I only know that, as with every job, it must be placed with a person with integrity and all of us reapers must be willing to trust that soul. Anyone has the ability to deny going to Beyond, but doing so would make them ghosts, haunting the world for eternity. Before they commit to either going on or staying forever, we could give them a third option: Become a fledgling reaper and abide by our guidelines. Of course, we don’t want anybody who can cause potential trouble, so we deny those who we know can be a liability.”

“Now, we’re starting to sound like a business,” he rolled his eyes and sat on his legs, leaning forward.

“Well, that’s how it looks in my perspective, honestly,” Alcyone shrugged, “If we accept anyone, they have to have most of their best qualities at hand. ‘Course, we can’t expect much from humans. They always look out for their self-interest. Reaping is something you commit to forever and souls don’t know if it’s worth doing so or not. We’re immortal, but we’re technically powerless janitors. Not exactly the high life for them, if you ask me.”

“The world has changed very much, not like when I was there,” Almach stared through Alcyone, looking ultimately downcast.

“Yes, Almach, it has,” Alcyone took her hands and stroked them in silence.

“The world is now corporate and my homeland is dying away by starvation and corruption. I only hope that I can bring my people to Paradise. Those innocent people…” she hung her head, silent and grave.
Connor nudged his head against Almach’s thigh and purred to console her and Alcyone set her hands down, “You’ve made a brave choice to help them and I know that standing up for them this way will help them find their way.”

She smiled sadly and continued, “We can’t deny that we’re stretched thin, though…” Almach placed her head between her hands, “Can we give the souls something in return for compensation?”

“What is there that we could give? Something bigger puzzles me, though,” Alcyone sat in thought, “I was surprised that he said he wanted murderers and people who’ve committed major crimes. I understand that it would lighten his load if we got them, which is obvious. But specifically murderers? None of us usually care if a soul did a crime at all. I can only think that there must be something wrong with Beyond. Perhaps one of the dimensions are changing… If that’s the case, Death must know something about it.”

“You think so?” Connor tilted his head, “Maybe we should go question him about it.”

“No. No, I don’t think that we should confront him just yet. We don’t have proof of anything happening except for what he said just now,” Alcyone shook her head, hair waving around her shoulders, “There’s not much we can do except ask souls whether or not they want to be reapers. Question them thoroughly and give them information in return. See if they will keep their good behavior in the worst of times. But, above all, let them state their opinion on the act of reaping and what they believe reaping is.”

She stood up and walked across the room, Almach and Connor following her, “It will be a while before we meet. I hope things will improve from here.”

The three exited through the stone gateway, walking in step, side by side along the breezy green field, Almach responding, “We’ll keep a lookout, then. Maybe there will be some good prospects.”

Alcyone grinned, “Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised if there were. There must be some good souls out there.”

The others nodded and walked in silence for a while before Almach faded in an instant, and in the next downbeat, Connor, leaving Alcyone a lone walking silhouette, before she, too, dissipated.