The Grim Lover

I've always wondered if I have a fear of heights. Many times when I'm up in a tall building and look down, I feel a little dizzy. But at the same time, I have an exciting dream about skydiving. I think one day I want to invite Won to try jumping from an aeroplane with me. I'm sure that after he finishes complaining that I'm crazy, he'll agree to go with me.

 

But that's probably just a dream. It seems I'll never have the chance to do something so crazy with Won again. In fact, that dream ended the moment I got hit by a car. And now, as I'm plunging precariously off a bridge in the middle of an unnamed desert, I think it's too difficult to ever pursue that dream again. Right now, I'd be so grateful if I could just get back to Won, that is, in case I don't die first. If this isn't the confusion of (nearly) dead or a distortion of the spiritual dimension, then I think this place must be lower down.

 

The height of the bridge was about the same as the height of a mountain peak in the Andes, because it took me a moment to hit the ground. Roughly estimating in my mind, it was at least a minute. I had never been in the air for that long before, especially in a situation where I didn't know what awaited me below.

 

The first thing I felt when I hit the ground was that I was wet. The surface that cushioned my fall was as hard as rock, but I didn't feel any pain. It was like I had just tripped and fallen, not jumped from thousands of meters up. I looked up, but the bridge was gone. There was only a greyish-blue sky, no clouds, no sun, but it was as bright as daytime. This was in stark contrast to the desert, where the sky was pitch black, as if dawn would never come.

 

I stood up and looked down at the ground. It was a smooth, dark grey stone surface, covered in puddles of water up to my big toes, crystal clear as if it didn't exist. Everywhere I looked, there was an endless expanse of clear water. Now, all I could see was the water-covered stone surface, the sky, and the line separating the water from the stone. And the sky parted.

 

What the hell is this? At this point, I didn't know what to do next. I stood there, looking left and right for a moment, before deciding to start walking without knowing where I was going. I didn't even know where I was heading. I just knew that standing still wouldn't accomplish anything. Since I'd already jumped, I had to do something. But no matter which way I walked, I saw the same view. Everything was the same, to the point where I started to feel like I was walking in place. My surroundings hadn't changed, and my body felt numb with fatigue. The only thing that told me I'd walked a long way was that my pants were getting wetter and wetter. But that was it. I didn't know anything else.

But actually, this place is quite beautiful. Thinking about it, I felt like taking a shot or two, but then I remembered I should crop it. Right now, I'm just a wandering spirit, naked and without even shoes, so forget about the camera.

 

Hmm...but it's really beautiful. If Won saw this, he'd probably want to grab a pencil and paper and draw it. No, Won shouldn't see this place yet. At least not anytime soon. I'll never let that happen. I kept walking, hesitating between going on and sitting and waiting somewhere. Maybe someone is looking for me. But while torn between two minds, I eventually discovered something that was more than just water and sky.

 

It looked like a person, a single person sitting on a chair, intently doing something with an object about the same height as themselves. Because it was too far away, I couldn't see the details clearly, so I quickened my pace. I wanted to run, but I was afraid of slipping and hitting my head, so I just walked quickly, splashing water up to my shins. But that was okay; at least now I could see my target. I drew closer until I could see him clearly. 

 

He was an old man, sitting on an old wooden chair. He had a long beard and curly hair, both white, almost the same colour as his clean white cotton shirt and trousers. He looked thin and frail, yet at the same time, I felt he was strong enough to easily stand up to a young man like me. His face was calm, his hand holding a mahogany-handled paintbrush tracing across the canvas stretched on the frame in front of him. He was so engrossed that I didn't dare call out to him. I understand what that kind of focus is like.

 

"Why are you here?" I stood staring at him for a long time, not daring to intrude on his peace. At first, I thought he was unaware of my presence. It was even my turn to speak, but he spoke up as if he was tired of waiting for me to open my mouth.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Why did you jump?"

 

I paused, unsure what to say. I mean... I knew why I chose to jump, but I wasn't sure how to tell them. Is that a good idea to discuss with the old man in front of me?

 

"You don't need to answer everyone's questions."

He responded as if he had heard my voice. That was the moment I thought I should answer his question, not because I suddenly trusted him. It wasn't immediate, but I felt that even if I didn't say it, he would probably know anyway.

 

"I'm not ready to die," I replied firmly. "I don't want to go back and drag someone else to their death in my place. I think...That's so unfair! Why—"

 

"Nothing is fair," he interrupted, touching the tip of his brush to the black paint on the palette and then applying it to the canvas. I didn't know what he was saying.

What are you drawing? I can't see it from this angle. "It's either do it or don't do it. There's no...fairness."

 

"Then I choose not to do it."

 

"So what are you going to do?"

 

Actually, I think he should be the one telling me what I should do, since he seems like the right person to do it. I thought that first, but then a thought crossed my mind: maybe the fact that he asked that question meant I had a choice.

 

"If I'm really going to die anyway, I want to make sure my boyfriend can continue living on his own."

 

"Every dead person hopes that."

 

"Did everyone who died jump down here as I did?"

 

The brushstrokes, which had been swirling endlessly across the canvas, paused. The old man sighed softly before turning his gaze to me. It was the first time he looked me straight in the eye. The first time our eyes met.

 

"What do you expect to find here?"

 

"I don't know. I just thought there might be other options for me here."

 

"Two paths aren't enough?" He chuckled softly. Now, I saw him as a truly kind old man. Then, as a sage, he said, "All humans are truly the same."

 

"That's not enough for me right now. The woman on the bridge said my boyfriend was dying. I can't let him die."

"Don't you think perhaps it would be better if he died?" the old man asked in return. "Don't you think that place is too cruel? Death is His only way out, and who knows...you might meet again...here."

 

The old man's thought-provoking question sounded interesting, but it still couldn't change my mind. It's true, after I die, life for me...Won might never be the same again. Many more monsters might be waiting to tear him apart and devour him. But for some reason, deep down, I feel that death isn't what Won truly desires. You can call me narcissistic, but I think I know Won well. We have something in common. There's a certain feeling in Won's heart, and many times I sensed it even before he knew it.

 

I want him to live.

I just needed to show him the way.

 

"You are about to encroach upon the work of God."

 

"Does he really exist?"

 

"It is true if you believe."

 

"Then tell him I'd like to share the burden."

 

He stared at me intently, as if waiting for the next sentence from someone as arrogant as me.

 

"You may need to guide many more people, so just give me a choice, and I'll help you with your work."

 

"Is that you?"

 

He laughed, seemingly mocking my meagre power.

 

"yes"

 

But even in my humble beginnings, I'm confident that I can always be useful, somewhere, in some situation, or to someone.

 

"Let me guide him."

 

I am important too.

"Why?" This time, he turned his whole body to face me. The old man in white placed his paintbrush on the edge of the easel and stared at me intently.

 

"Why do you want a chance?"

 

"There are several reasons...."

 

"Speak up."

 

Judging from his tone and serious gaze, I think a simple summary wouldn't satisfy him.

 

"Okay," I nodded, before continuing, "First, I made a promise to Won. Oh! Won is my boyfriend's name. I promised Won I would marry him. If I suddenly died before then, it would be like breaking a promise. So, at least I should take responsibility, like, pay compensation, right?" He didn't answer; he didn't say a word; he just stared at me silently, as if waiting for me to speak further.

 

"Secondly, Won had few friends. I was his closest friend. In times of trouble, friends must help each other. Won was dying, and I...I have to go back and help."

He remained still.

 

"Three is Won, is addicted to my cooking. I want to go back and cook for him sometime, or at least tell him the recipe so he can make it himself." I don't know how many more points I have to keep mentioning, but as long as the old man remains silent like this, I guess I'll have to keep talking.

 

"Fourthly, I want to go back and comfort Won when he's sad. He's a strong person, so it's really sad when he cries."

 

"Fifth, I haven't done my laundry yet. It's my turn this week, and I want to go back and do it first. I don't want to burden Won."

 

"A plea after finishing my shift."

 

"Sixth, I want to take Won to Bang Saen one last time. Just to play by the sea for one day, even if it's only for one day."

 

"Seventh, I want to have sex with Won again because it's a good way to release stress."

 

"Eighth is, I want to remind Won not to forget how much he loves drawing."

 

"Nine is what I want to take Won to meet all the important people in his life and let him decide for himself who he should keep in his life."

 

"My goal is to assure Nong Won that he is a skilled doctor and a good mentor to other doctors."

 

"Eleventh is, I want to go back and tell Won that even without me, he can still manage on his own." I started to feel like I was rambling like a madman, but this madness made me happy and made me miss Won more and more.

 

"Twelve means I want to go back and say goodbye to Won one last time. I want to see Won again."

 

"Thirteen is what I want to tell Won: how precious his life is to me, and I want Won to live as long as He will be able to do it."

 

Even if it means going against fate or destiny, according to any divine father, I will do it.

 

"And fourteen..."

 

Even if it's the last time, I believe it will be meaningful.

 

"Won was a good boy. I will regret letting him die too soon."

 

The first thing I got in return was his slow blinking and silence. He was so quiet that I wasn't sure if I should say anything next. Actually, if they wanted me to talk more, I could say a hundred more things. But would they even want to listen?

 

"So what will we get?"

 

Luckily, he finally opened up.

 

"I will do everything you tell me to do."

 

"Everything?"

 

"Yes, everything." I didn't hesitate for a second because I knew I had nothing to lose. Not even my life. So he would let me do it. Whatever he wants, let him have it. I'd even give him my soul if he wanted to. "Just let me go back and help Won, I'll do anything."

 

"Even having to be stuck in this situation forever?"

 

"This state?" I raised an eyebrow, confused by his vague question. "Do you mean the spirit?"

 

"A state of neither death nor non-existence."

 

"Means what?"

 

"The Reapers of Death"

 

I stood still, my mind picturing many books I'd read. I thought there certainly were stories about the Reaper of Death in them. Of course, I'd previously viewed them as mere legends, created to teach humanity about death. The Reaper of Death didn't exist; it was just a symbol, a simple summary to help everyone understand death in a consistent way. And I never thought that I could be one of them, too. Thinking about it, it's actually pretty cool.

 

"What do I need to do?" I continued, and suddenly it started sounding like an interview.

 

"Just going to pick up the spirits and drop them off at the bridge."

 

"Is that all?"

 

"yes"

 

"So easy."

 

"But it has to be forever."

 

Forever? I'm not sure whether I should be afraid of that word.

 

"You will never be human again. No one will see you except spirits and the dead. No one will remember your name."

“...”

 

"You, you will not feel pain, nor suffer, nor die. You will stand beside death beyond the end of time."

 

After hearing that, I started to think it was a little scary, but I still don't know what's scarier: staying here forever or...I have to go back to being human again. Of course, I don't hate being human, even though my life has been miserable. But there are many things that make my life worthwhile. I'm glad I was born to love art. I enjoy painting and photography, creating and enjoying art, playing with dogs and cats, and of course, meeting and loving Won. That's the greatest pride in my life. Because of that, there was a moment when I thought, if I were to be reborn, would it be possible for me to be born into a warm family, grow up with Won, and tell him myself that I want children, not waiting for Won to ask?

 

"So, what do you want to do?" he pressed when he saw I wasn't answering. "Do you still want to go back?" It would be good if I had a chance to start over again.

But what about Won? His life isn't over yet. Would it be wise for me to let his life end so easily when there's still a chance to change it? I'm still sure Won wants to live on.

 

"Okay."

 

"Huh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

 

"yes"

 

I won't hesitate any longer.

 

"I'll work for you forever, so let me help my boyfriend," he smiled. That smile was like a seal on a lifelong contract between him and me.

 

And suddenly, the old man in white in front of me transformed into a muscular young man dressed entirely in black from head to toe. His once wrinkled face became radiant again. His face was taut and smooth, without any white beard, just clean-cut, jet-black hair. He bore a resemblance to the old man from earlier, but looked about forty or fifty years younger. He was tall and well-built, like an NBA basketball player.

 

"Hey!" I exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief. "Why aren't you old anymore?"

 

"I'm no longer old."

"Why would you pretend to be an old man? It's like a moralistic play," the formerly old man sighed softly, as if he were utterly exasperated with me.

 

"Once you've agreed to these terms, you have no right to cancel them later."

 

"I am not a king, but my word is my bond," I said firmly, puffing out my chest.

 

"Okay, then that's fine."

 

I smiled with relief, even though I didn't know what would happen next. But at least, this seemed like the beginning of something. It was totally worth it, I can really feel it.

 

"We will send you back as our descendant; from now on, you will be the reaper of death, named Fourteen."

 

*** I knew it! I knew P’Fah was Fourteen. Now I'm crying whilst translating LOL ***

 

"fourteen?"

 

That's a bit strange. He used numbers as names, as if I were a robot he created.

 

"Yes," he replied, "the fourteen reasons you listed are why you must return."

 

Oh... I see. So those aren't randomly selected numbers to use as model names, huh?

 

"Fourteen points that bear his name alone. Please remember them well from now on."

 

His voice was like a sudden rush of heat sweeping through my body like a sea breeze, before everything went dark—both my senses and my memories.

All of mine

Fourteen’s Part.

The ambulance sirens blared, competing with the whistling of megaphones, interspersed with the loud, incomprehensible voices of people screaming. A cacophony of whispers, children's shouts, and parents' screams filled the air. It was such a chaotic mess that I wanted to escape it as quickly as possible.

 

But it was just a thought. Duty is weighing me down. I'm standing on the rooftop of the tallest building in a prestigious public school. This school has a pretty high level of competition. Many people want to send their children and grandchildren to study here, ensuring they will pass the entrance exams to top universities. Or, simply being able to wear the school uniform with the school emblem and walk around is enough to make them incredibly proud. That sense of pride is so sweet that the adults willingly turn a blind eye, coldly ignoring the rottenness hidden within this place.

 

The concrete floor below was covered with a canvas sheet as tall as a person to shield the scene from the eyes of people in school uniforms. But it's funny that they didn't think to cover the top of him/her, because from this high vantage point, I could see the child's body clearly.

 

A fifteen-year-old boy lay in a pool of blood in front of the school building. His once clean, white school uniform was stained bright red. His skull...His body was gaping open, his limbs twisted and deformed. You don't need to be a doctor to know he was dead. He was dead even before the first child who witnessed the event screamed.

 

"I can't take it anymore." The voice of a doctor spoke up not far from me, his body drenched in sweat from the stifling April heat, and also because he was up there...

It's also an open-air rooftop with no roof.

 

In front of him lay another young boy, covered in blood, just like the boy below. They were the same age and wearing the same school uniform. If there's one difference, it's the condition of the body. This child's brain was shattered from a horrifying gunshot wound, unlike the first child, who suffered broken bones and severe brain injury from a fall. All of this is a consequence of bullying.

 

The child who fell from the building was a top student with the highest scores in his class, while the child sleeping on the rooftop was a wealthy, unruly kid. They had a job together. Hobbies involve bullying weaker children. The bullying game is fun and thrilling, so the level of violence increases. The more the victim suffers, the more enjoyable the game becomes. And the more enjoyable it is, the more the poor victim tries to find a way to end it.

 

The poor, studious kid went up to the school building's rooftop to hang out. The troublemaker kid and his friends followed, as usual. They were bullying and teasing the studious kid, expecting the same pathetic reaction as always. But this time, I was disappointed when the studious kid chose to level up the game even further. He jumped from a ten-story building and died instantly. 

 

The ringleader stood frozen, his henchmen fled in panic, leaving only him standing there sobbing in terror, completely losing his mind. He then picked up the small pistol he had stolen from his father, intending to use it to scare his friends, pointed it at his temple, and pulled the trigger. Within a single day, two students died at this school.

 

"Oh... I really hate this." 

 

Won’s part.

Grim Reaper number fourteen was clinging to a pillar under a narrow canopy. He'd been groaning like this for a while now, and I tried to ignore him, just in case. He hoped he would stop acting like a spoiled child, but it seems that ignoring him hasn't helped him realise anything.

 

"If you don't want to do it, then just go back," I said calmly.

 

"If I could go back, I would have gone back a long time ago," he replied sarcastically before slowly emerging from the shade with the demeanour of a young boy.

 

"I'm afraid the sun will damage my skin. 'If I just go back without my soul, I'll get scolded by him.'"

 

"You know that, so why are you complaining?"

 

"Well, I don't like collecting the spirits of children," P'Fah leaned over the edge of the rooftop and looked down. Upon seeing the shocking sight, he quickly crouched down. He dodged as if afraid the image would jump in his face. "They're still in their school uniforms, and look at their condition... each of them..."

 

"I told you not to care how they died," I said. Of course, the sight before me was heartbreaking, but as someone who harvests death means facing this kind of despair every day. I can't let those sensitive feelings consume me. "Just do your job of leading the way. If you keep whining like this, watch out, I might overtake you this month."

 

"Huh?" The senior Grim Reaper immediately jumped to his feet upon hearing that. 

 

"That's like something out of a cartoon. Do you think you can surpass me so easily, you pig?"

 

"At least I'm not sitting here complaining, 'Oh, I hate this! Oh, I can't take it anymore! P'Fah doesn't want to do this! Oh, oh, oh...' like someone else."

 

"I didn't say I wouldn't do it. Can't I just complain?" P'Fah crossed his arms and pouted, looking displeased, before muttering softly (but I heard him). Who could be as heartless, cruel, and wicked as that tofu-faced guy?"

 

"Hey!" I turned and swung my leg, kicking the talkative guy in the shin out of annoyance, but unfortunately, he dodged it narrowly. "Fah taught me too."

 

"It's all your own fault, and you still have the nerve to say that?"

 

"I was just doing my duty by teaching. Who would have thought he'd turn into such a cruel Grim Reaper?" the senior Grim Reaper grumbled. "Unbelievable! Such an innocent face, but a heart as black as ice."

 

"I used to be like that, too. Why are you talking like that?" I said, emphasising the tone sarcastically.

 

"Oh...but I was fourteen back then," P'Fah said, mimicking a playful tone. "Now that I'm P'Fah, I have to be a little kinder, dear."

 

"What a pity, I miss fourteen."

 

"What?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. "How can you say that, my dear?"

 

"Well, fourteen is quiet. P'Fah talks too much."

 

"Ugh...that Fourteen," the former Fourteen gritted his teeth in furious anger, as if his arch-enemy was someone else entirely, not himself.

 

“How dare you try to score points with P'Fah's boyfriend!"

 

"You should try to improve your scores, too. You'll be so embarrassed if you drop in rank."

 

"I'm not interested," P'Fah shrugged indifferently. "P'Fah isn't obsessed with rankings like you are."

"I'm not obsessed with rankings either," replied Won.

 

"Really? Okay. But I promised him I would work hard... so I must keep my promise."

 

I gazed aimlessly ahead, letting the gentle breeze caress my face, pretending to be utterly relaxed and at ease. Even though the smell of blood still lingered in my nostrils.

 

"Seriously, what exactly did you talk to him about?"

 

*** I'm assuming that when they mention ‘him’, Won and P’Fah are talking about the old man they went to after jumping off the bridge. The man P’Fah gave the fourteen reasons to. ***

 

P'Fah asked in such a serious tone that I felt guilty. For me, I thought the conversation wasn't important at all; it was just me...Begging, pleading, and yelling to get what I wanted—it was so ridiculous and embarrassing that I didn't want to tell P'Fah. But the more I did that, the more it became a top secret that P'Fah was eager to know.

 

"I just talked to him like you did with P'Fah," I replied casually. "Any questions?" 

 

"We'll just make the usual agreement."

 

"But you act like it's not normal."

 

"Nothing's normal, it's P'Fah who thinks it's not normal."

 

"We're not signing any weird contracts, are we?"

 

"What do you want me to do?" I answered casually, before the signal I'd been waiting for sounded in my head, and I guessed that P'Fah heard it too. "Just ask..."

 

"Keep the memories of P'Fah. It's not a big deal."

 

He was silent.

But I know exactly how P'Fah feels.

 

"And what did you trade for it?"

 

As for P'Fah, he used the rest of his life as a bargaining chip to come back and save my life. Because of that, he knows better than anyone that even… In the afterlife, nothing comes for free.

 

"Im not not telling."

 

"Okay!"

 

I turned and smiled at my one and only love before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on his lips. The light touch lingered for just a moment. It was a momentary lapse, but I'm sure it will leave a lasting impression on him for quite some time.

 

"Collect more souls this month, then I'll tell you."

 

"But—oh!"

 

I didn't wait to hear any excuses from Grim Reaper Number Fourteen. As soon as I finished saying what I wanted to say, I leapt off the rooftop, leaving my senior behind. He shouted after me in a huff, like a frustrated young man.

 

"Fah is definitely number one this month!" I laughed heartily.

 

With such fiery energy from the Grim Reaper, it looks like there'll be so many new souls this month that we won't be able to handle them all!