Page 6 of Finders Reapers

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Everyone will find out how they died in their exit interview, ‘mkay?”

I raised my hand before I could speak, he interrupted.

“Exit. Interview.” Charon said through gritted teeth.

I had the feeling he didn’t like me much.

Death Orientation was boring AF.

There was hell. Which was apparently where we were all going.

There was heaven, but Charon joyfully informed us that angels were drunk dicks, so we shouldn’t feel too bad about not taking that particular stairway.

My mind drifted to the rows and rows of spotlights on the pristine white ceiling, and I focused on the single light two rows ahead that were just a little bit brighter than the others.

Everyone stood at a unit, and I had the feeling I had missed something important when I had been dosing off. Surreptitiously looking around, I followed as the other ghosts formed an orderly line to the door next to the stage.

One by one, people passed through an arch. The TSA was everywhere, it seemed.

Sometimes the light flashed pink, and the word Lust rolled across the ticker tape. Occasionally purple, for Pride, or orange for Greed.

The moment a soul crossed through the archway, they shifted and became a black butterfly, or sometimes even a crow, before they disappeared entirely.

I stayed at the back and wondered what kind of sin I would get branded with.

I liked to think I was a well-rounded person—maybe I’d get a rainbow.

Before I knew it, every other person had passed through the arch and disappeared behind the door. It was just hipster-Charon and me in a silent standoff.

He quirked a brow. “I don’t have all day.”

I chuffed a laugh, exhaling sharply from my nose. “I’m dead. I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Charon gave me a long look. “I’m not here to give you therapy. I’m not here to absolve you. I’m here to work out your sin of choice and direct you to your home for the next millennia. Once you’ve been suitably punished and scrubbed, you’ll be ready to ascend to heaven or go back to the Human Realities as someone new.”

I digested his words. “Ah. So that’s how it works.”

“Did you listen to any part of the orientation?”

I gave him a toothy grin. “Of course,” I lied, feeling the familiar twitch in my nose that I knew would give me away.

Tired of my hovering, Charon waved a hand, and my incorporeal feet locked together, and I was pulled towards the arch.

I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes as dread washed over me.

No sound. No barked command to move, even the whirring sound of the arch.

I cracked an eyelid. “Tell me the bad news,” I scrunched my nose. “What’s my sin?”

Smoke began to billow out of the arch, starting a small fire as it sparked. Charon looked positively incensed.

“You broke my bloody arch!” He snarled.

Charon’s rage made the tips of his ears turn pink.

I didn’t point this out because I didn’t want him to shout at me again.

After the arch was revealed to be well and truly broken, the doorway to hell was closed. White smoke continued to billow out from the archway as the lights flashed all sorts of colors.

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