The Ledger

Thomas stared at the menacing blade in his hand. It ran with long streams of blood that dripped onto the floor and drummed a tale of what he had just done. He hadn't intended it to go as it did, but he imagined that many killers started this way; semi-accidentally. The victim hadn't seen it coming, and honestly, neither had he. The corpse on the floor was going to happen eventually, he just didn't plan on it being today.

Now there was just the matter of what happened next. A body to dispose of, alibis to create, evidence to remove. He was regretting not putting more forethought into the act. Thomas stepped over the body to find something that could clean the massive amount of blood.

"What is the cost of a life?" a creeping voice said behind him. Thomas, startled, turned to meet this newcomer, expecting another carcass he would have to deal with.

What he instead found was a gaunt figure so tall, that, even stooping, he towered over Thomas. He was wearing a void black suit that seemed to drain all of the color away from his surroundings, and had a wicked smile that spoke not of joy, but of omens. The figure stood closely behind Thomas, staring at him in anticipation.

"Now Thomas, don't tell me you did this for nothing. What is the cost of a life?"

"I...I don't," Thomas stammered. Any thoughts of dealing with this creature through force had fled upon first sight, and he didn't have much skill in the way of diplomacy. He looked down at his handiwork. "Revenge? It costs the guilt that any sin has?"

The figure gave a small laugh that oozed into Thomas' skull. "An interesting philosophy, but I was looking for a more financial answer." He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a small black book. His spindly fingers leafed through pages, stopped on one and pointed to the exsanguinated body on the floor. "For instance, this one is worth 21,032 dollars."

Thomas was dumbfounded. "How do you figure that? What has he done, or not done, I guess, to be worth twenty grand?"

The tall man gave another disheartening chuckle, "I'm afraid the time to explain the economics of the soul would dwarf your lifespan. You'll simply have to trust the numbers," he tapped on his notebook and tucked it back into his suit. "No, what I'm here to do is offer you employment."

"Employment? Doing what?"

"What you've just done, of course. I find there is a scarcity of people willing to exchange life for a living," another laugh. "You will be paid whatever the ledger states the life is worth, with a bonus if you can commit the act in a certain fashion. You will have no need to worry about any negative repercussions for anything I pay you to do and you will never want for work again."

All of this was starting to become too much for Thomas. He had committed a heinous act and was now being hired by a sinister being. The surreal nature had come along all too suddenly. Even with all of this, the man felt, at once, inescapable and deadly.

"Who are you?" he finally asked. "What kind of thing are you?"

The gaunt man's smile dropped. "The first rule of all of this, I'm afraid, is that information is costly, and until you have accepted my offer, you cannot possibly afford the price that comes with those answers." He pointed over to the corner of the room, where there sat a large briefcase that hadn't been there before.

"Inside the briefcase is 21,032 dollars. Payment, if you choose to be hired, for the job you have just done. If you accept, simply pick up the briefcase and be on your way. Everything here will be dealt with. I will give you time to think it over, but I hope you do not take too long."

Thomas looked over to the briefcase, and when he turned to ask the stranger a question, he had vanished. He had not heard a sound or seen where the man had possibly gone. He had been left with his sin and this tempting briefcase.

The daunting task of removing the body still loomed over Thomas as he examined the room. Even just the idea of having the consequences taken away sounded good to him, and he had to admit, the act of killing felt almost ecstatic. And then there was the money.

He strolled over to the briefcase and picked it up. It had a nice heft to it. He opened and peeked inside, finding several stacks of large bills. This thing was at least true to its word. Glancing at the body again, he finally made his decision and walked out the door with the briefcase.

He heard the deep voice the had already grown familiar rumble in the back of his head. "Excellent. I will contact you when I have work for you to do. I look forward to the work we will do together. Welcome to the Reapers."