Me and my Reaper Friend

by PonyEssence

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Tragedy, Human
Length: 1656

Me and my friend. We’ve been together for a while now. I don’t know what he is, but he calls himself a grim reaper. I call him my friend.

To reapers, ponies are just another race that pass on. They come and they go just as always. Sometimes they will fight with the inevitable, or they may accept what is coming to them and give in. Though sometimes, mistakes are made and deaths mark is put on those who shouldn’t have received them. If that is the case, the reaper is punished by staying be that creature's side until its time has come and to protect them from that which endanger them. The catch is, death's mark is a sentence in itself and until the target is dead, will threaten their lives with constant dangers

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-21 22:00:01 UTC

A new reaper living in a box

While you are in Equestria, you will no longer be allowed into our domain, you will not be allowed your powers, and for your past failure, you will *not** be immortal*

(-)

Though it would be impossible to tell, Kanus was a young reaper. In his life, he was spastic in nature and very much so volitive. He lived to please himself, not caring if he harmed others while doing so. But death had a way of changing things. Dead souls would tend to lose their once pristine and excitable nature and replaced it with one that was dull in comparison. Small bits would sometimes show through in those whom lived great and adventurous lives, but his was not amongst that small population.

Like death itself, he soul had become an unwavering force that would never again show or feel emotions. When he looked into the worlds of the living, he didn’t reflect on his own life nor did he ask himself what he could have done differently. Instead, he gazed emotionlessly, looking for the next sentient living creature that was coming closer to its final destination. And their he spotted it.

Pulling from his memories, he could tell the creature was a pony. Only once before had he been pointed in this races direction. At first, he was confused. As he remembered, ponies back on the place he once lived were not sentient beings. They stood in a field and grazed away their short lives. A servant race that no longer served the sentients creatures of that world any purpose but for entertainment. Never once did a horse have independent thought.

The pony he now stood by was completely different on the other hand. It felt emotions and was aware of what it was. It could Feel just as much as any other sentient race he had ever run into.

His first experience with this race left him startled and somewhat confused. But after a short moment, he able to ignore what he once would have thought impossible and came back to reality so he could finish his job…  A job that no longer existed. The soul was gone, whisked away by some unknown entity.

Recalling every story he could remember is his short existence as a reaper, he never heard of a soul doing that on any planet but this one. A strange phenomenon that baffled his brothers. Not to mention that it only happened to the ponies that passed on.

He almost pitied those that got away. Surly, their fate was worse that death itself. Likely, the souls would be tortured for all of eternity. As the stories go, those whom never cross over are fated to watch as all of existence comes and goes. To watch every moment in every place in existence would even turn reapers, those whose souls should bear no more, into mindless machines.

Thus ignoring a soul was forbidden, and losing one would come with a high price. The punishment, however was unknown to most reapers. Any whom had ever had to bare it would never tell of what occurred. He was spared the worst punishment due to his inexperience, but would still be forced into doing something unsavory for letting a soul escape him.

This time, he felt collection would go differently. He stood next to an elderly pony, almost hunched over it as if to make sure it would not escape him. Its skin was wrinkled and its eyes were barely open. The pony stood out from his surroundings. Its coat had turned both grey and a dim white color, while the floor and wall were a much brighter shade. Around the two, a faint beeping could be heard.

He turned his head to the left and recognized what was making the sound. What it was called, he didn’t know, but what it did was obvious. It was made to display a heartbeat. This one's pule was starting to decay, each beat at a longer interval than the last.

Soon it will pass. And so, he waited next to its bed. Other ponies soon washed into the room. Presumably family. One at a time, they would come to the dying pony and speak gentle words to it. Just half way though, it passed on. The ponies in the room cried for it, feeling an emotion he no longer possessed. The beeping noise was no more, but instead was replaced by what could be described as a wailing of sorts.

In response, he stepped forward and placed his hand on the ponies chest. The process was short, the soul didn’t try to keep him from claiming it. He could tell it was a tired old soul if not by the look of the pony, but the way it calmly rolled in his hand. There was no more energy for it to resist with, all being expelled in its life. A great life it had lived.

He did, however, feel an outside force tugging at the soul, trying to pull it away from his grasp. In response, he slipped it into his satchel where nothing but himself could dare take from. That didn’t stop the force from trying. Like a tendril, it tried to slip in through a small opening, but was instantly expelled. From this force, he could feel a similar emotion as what he had felt earlier, but it pulled away defeated.

Without a second though, he turned and opened a gateway to his residence and stepped through. The room was barren of anything but a chair, a bookshelf, and a small fountain. The room itself  was a dull grey color, the same as the wood which made the chair and bookshelf. The book shelf, on the other had was special in the fact that it could hold an endless amount of books. The shelf was from a request he made when he first became a reaper.

With a dead passion for reading, he had asked for something that could potentially fill his void for some sort of entertainment. Soon after, he had discovered that reading could not do so when he lacked the ability to become connected to a character or find anything relatable to his current life.

.

The fountain, on the other hand was a far stretch from everything else in the room. In its stone base were carved perfect golden spirals. In its bowl rested nothing but the purest water which he had collected from various worlds across the expanse of the universe, and in this water sat a portal. Taking the soul from his hand, he held it close to the surface of the water. As if it were being sucked in, a thin wispy trail led from the soul to the portal before him. Their he held the soul till it was completely gone.

“ Five.” He whispered to himself. So quiet was the word that he could barely hear it himself.

Before his thoughts could steal him away, he felt a brief pulling sensation at the back of his head alerting him that he had another task. Once more he looked down onto the world of ponies. This time, he would collect the soul of a child. Or to suite the race he was collecting from, a foal.

Effortlessly, he opened a gate that would lead him to his target and walked through. In front of him laid a young pony no older than 10 years. Its breathing was labored and it thrashed around in its sleep. Hearing no steps in the distance he decided that no one was coming to see the child.

“ It is quiet out foal, but no one will hear your pleas. As such, I will spare you the suffering and take your soul now.” He placed his hand over the young foals chest, pulling the soul from the body and holding it in front of him. “ I hope that you can accept that your life was brief.”

Unlike the last, this one tried to escape his grasp. It bounced in his bony hand, trying to find any way to get back to its body. If it had a voice, it might just cry out to him, but that was not the case. He was sure that if he could still feel the emotions he once could, he would pity the creature. Even he had lived longer and wasn’t satisfied. But, despite its struggles, fate was cruel and had determined this ones life to end here.

Emotionless, he slipped the soul into his bag and turned to enter the door back to his own residence. Stepping through he was surprised to find that that was not where he had intended, but instead he was greeted by a large room filled with only a few high reapers.

“ Kanus,” the first reaper lumbered above him. He was easily two feet taller than himself as the high reapers would tend to be, “ For the second time, you have made a grievous mistake.”  Another reaper approached with an image of the filly whose soul he had just taken. “ It may be placed on your lack of experience, but we high reapers have determined that this case is to serious to let you off for.

“Thus, we have determined that you will risk yourself to return life to this child, and if you are successful, you will be responsible for her life till fate has determined her ready to pass on. If you fail, your punishment will not be negated to compensate for you inexperience.

If you succeed, while you are in Equestria, you will no longer be allowed into our domain, you will not be allowed most of your powers, and for your past failure, you will not be immortal.”

Kanus nodded and walked back through the door. Before him laid a lifeless filly, and a potentially perilous night.