The Grim Reaper walked down the dark street. He stopped in front of a hobo lying face first in the mud. The Grim grasped his scythe firmly and cut down the middle of the man’s chest. The soul within floated to the top and quickly The Grim grabbed it and put it in his satchel along with the many other souls held inside.

The Grim Reaper did not look as most people thought he did. He was not a walking skeleton in a dark cloak. He was just a regular man. Well, almost regular. He was a pale man with grey hair and a deep sadness. Where his left hand should have been there was a robotic hand that functioned quite well.

The Grim didn’t want to do this any more. Every day he collected the souls of the dead. He saw their loved ones and all the suffering. He had lost his sense of sadness a long time ago, but he still had haunting memories of it.

The Grim took his full satchel and began his ascend towards the sky. He was taking them to what some people would call Heaven, although they were sadly mistaken. There was indeed a “Heaven”, but it was nothing like they thought it was. It was an empty field of nothingness. The souls wandered around, searching for their loved ones, still feeling the pain of their death.

While the dead suffered through an eternal pain, God and his Angels floated among the clouds, having a grand time. They did not care one bit about the suffering of the dead, and The Grim was sick of it.

He was finally ready to do something about it. He floated up to the great iron gate of Heaven. The two guards on duty pulled a giant lever to let him in.

Before they could even lift a finger to protect themselves, The Grim twirled his scythe and their heads rolled from their shoulders. Of course, they were Angels. They were incapacitated for now, but in a few minutes, they would be alive and well again.

The Grim walked through the gates, and at the top of his dry dusty lungs he shouted, “All who want to be sent back to Earth come to me, now!”

Immediately the vast amount of souls swarmed towards The Grim. He pointed off the edge of a cloud and shouted, “Fly off and become one with the Earth and the stars!”

Instantly the souls did as instructed. As they floated off into the sky, it looked like a million feathers flying around. The Grim knew he had done the right thing. If only God would let him live after this.