Come fly with me. Catchy, huh? It works for airlines. Maybe it will work for the dead once I launch my own Reaping business. Except my new tagline will be, come die with me.Back when my life was simpler, I thought all I had to do was hold gateways for the dead to pass through. Silly me, I actually enjoyed Reaping. Almost like a drug or fine old whiskey, it made me high, filled me with delight, and left me glowing with the rightness of providing a last bit of compassion.Good little Reaper that I am, I never examined any of it too deeply, just crafted portals, exactly as Death trained me. Ha! She neglected to mention I command way more magic than she'd let on in Reaper school.Death smiled pretty to my face and then lied to me. Used me.Me and all the other Reapers.I can't not Reap. It's hardwired into me. But I can tell Death I quit.Big words. I have no idea if I've got the guts to follow through, or what Death would do about open insubordination.I've always liked to live on the wild side, though, so I guess I'm about to find out.