Ever the apprentice reaper floated around the cemetery. He wasn’t being haphazard about it. Far from it actually. With his scythe behind him, he traversed the perimeter, inches off the ground, eyes ahead. It was like he was a guard dog patrolling his territory, making sure no errant fox would come by to snatch away his master’s prized chickens.

  As diligent as he appeared, he was not concerned about the souls within the graveyard being snatched. While he was their shepherd, he knew that these ones in particular wouldn’t stray. He also knew that they were not in danger, for what harm could befall those that had already left the mortal realm?

  Ever was brooding, unsure what to make of the exchanges, both digital and real life he’d had earlier in the week. While most times humans spoke plainly, he realized that most of the time there were undercurrents of meaning that were often carried by body language, microexpression and other signs. Sometimes the words themselves didn’t mean what they literally meant. How was he meant to ever understand it all?

  “Hello, Ever.”

  Ever looked to his side. The soul’s name was Lyn. Based purely on her appearance at time of death, she looked to be in her forties to fifties. A lot of the souls in this cemetery had become friends, spending limitless time together, swapping the same stories over and over.

  While Lyn was pleasant with the others, Ever noticed that she spent most of her time by herself, deep in thought.

  “Lyn,” Ever said. He extended a hand in greeting, only for her to give the smallest shake of the head. He dropped his arm. “How are you?”

  “I’m… here,” Lyn said. Most ghosts kept their human greeting habits. Not Lyn.

  Ever nodded. “Did you want to come for a float with me?”

  “No.” Her eyes flickered to the scythe blade above Ever’s shoulder.

  “You’re ready to go to the Underworld?”

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  “Yes.” It was the most words that he’d ever exchanged with Lyn, as scant as the words had been.

  “Sure.” He slowly swung the scythe until he held it in front. “What’s keeping you here?”

  Lyn blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Something’s been keeping you here on Earth. I’m here to listen. Once I understand, I’ll be able to help you go to the Underworld.”

  “Can you not just cut me with the scythe?” She seemed mildly annoyed.

  “No.”

  “What happens if you do?”

  “I… don’t know.”

  “Can you try?”

  “No.”

  Her face was passive. Her glasses slid slightly down her nose and she pushed them up again.

  “You can also tell me what you would like to experience one last time. I’ll do my best to conjure it. That might free you from Earth.”

  She turned from Ever, floating away from him.

  “I want to experience pain.”

  The scythe shuddered, causing Ever to let go of it. It floated in place, turned left and right, as if looking around, then glowed a violent purple. Ever focused on it, the menu fading in:

  SENSES

  Hearing

  Smell

  Touch

  Sight

  Taste

  Every single sense? *Mentor, what do I do?* There was no answer from his teacher. Lyn regarded Ever intensely, hands clasped behind her back. The reaper started with Touch. Just like with the soul on the plane, the scythe glowed red and rejected Ever’s choice. One by one, he tried every other sense, the scythe shaking left and right each time.

  “I… I’m not ready to reap you,” Ever admitted.

  “Hm.” Lyn glanced at the scythe one more time before turning her back and floating away back to her tombstone.