Day in, day out.... day in, day out..... life is a constant line of work, of duties and forced interactions. Wouldn't it be nice to not do so? Well, for most of us, we'd need to be dead to achieve that, wouldn't we? We just can't do anything but force ourselves. We love.....to struggle.
Well, let me tell you a secret....even death, doesn't save you from all of that- how I know? "Well ye be'er stop'ose questions and start listenin'!"
Left alone by most who rot in these hellish realms, the basic soulhunter wanders 50km to work- uphill both ways! (Pardon me, I just had to do this- I digress) Leaving a line of scarred and demolished sinners on their way. This menace towers in midst the street, a burning scent of molotov, ash and gunpowder fuming from his rattling breath.
His visibly sharp teeth suggest him grumbling words of utter annihilation in preparation of the next one to come close, if any. The many ripples and shreds on the coattails of his brown trenchcoat give away that he won't be gentle, whilst the tall, thick leather collar of his coat hides his face from oncoming bystanders.
Mainly if you dare to face him, his eyes glow a white and red hue, whilst his left half of his face shows a mark in a white hue.
Up ahead lie the gates of a company building. The wings of this heavy steelen gate symbolised by the literal bird's and bat's wings engraved deep into its blackened surface, a fine line of gold and white outlining the engravings. The frame be garnished with the letters of the greek alphabet, the upmost first of them taunting above all else for their symbolism.
-Alpha-
BetaGamma
Delta Epsilon
.... ....
.... ....
and then the fucking rest of the whole greek alphabet in the tiniest size to just barely fill the frame with these ciphers.
I've opened those gates oh so many times.
*BAMPF*
I kick the left wing open- A growl ran through the entire floor as my self entered.
"Fuuuuuck, me head-" I ignite myself a Belomorkanal, placing it to fit cozy in the upper jaw toothgap, that I have on the right side. I don't even know where I got this toothgap from....I just always had it-.
Dispite my "blind" left eye, I can see these dozen or even more pairs of eyes glaring at me, their shining bright windows to their souls, locking onto mine. And Sindy of course, her Oni-like muscular hands clawing themself into the opened gate ready to give whoever opened this door hell without end, after all i rammed the gate into her.
"Mornin' Sindy....." I grumbled with the most polite voice my hungover self allowed me to be. She was about to tackle me, if it wasn't for her noticing it's me. Her mood then switched rather swiftly though-
"Ah! Good afternoon, Admiral Omega"
Rrright- Omega Admiral.... that's me.
Sounds more privileged then it is.....
Has a nice ring to it though-
Omega Admiral Cerseon Brassmann-
Zur See!
I continued walking to the missionary stations, looking for todays' pile of paperwork and contracts.
The epsilon ranked Oni shuffled her legs in a nervous pattern, whilst crossing her arms behind her back.
"Will there be any cross-rank work today?"
Her single eye stared me down like a kitten, ready to jump on a ball of yarn.
I took my pile and headed for the elevator, pressing the call button.
"Nah, ain't lookin' like it...."
At that, the elevator opens for me to enter.
"Bye, Sindy-"
"Wah- W-w Wait-"
She bubbles out incoherent words, trying to get me to stop, but the elevator already closes.
"Miss Maywater?"
Someone taps an indignated Sindy on the shoulder, only for her to shout her lungs out on them.
"WHAT!?"
Noticing the size of the Behemoth she just yelled at, she shrinks back into herself.
'ohfuck...'
It's Kaldrum, the Epsilon Admiral, her boss, clenching their fist, containing the many many papers Sindy dropped at the gate. Their left eye twitches as this wikings eyes turn red. They shift their head to the side repeatedly as to not combust into a shrieking inferno.
"I recommend you take these blasted papers aND RUN!!!"
In the elevator I only recognise the distant remains of what can only be described as a warcry, followed by the whole elevator shaking.
I peacefully light myself a cigarette.
"14 days anger management me arse, Kaldrum"
The elevator opens up to an underground railway system, the ceilings towering way up high in gothic arches. Here is the main hub of every single little death. Most get basic gear, capable of most situations, but to hell with it. Most sold that stuff the first week they got it. Noone who actually gets contracted ever has a situation where they need compas, armor, ammunition, emergency equipment- people can't even see us if we don't want them to and we can just as easy yoink their souls barehanded, well, they can see me, but then again, it's ME.
With a rusted sigh I step through the hallways towards todays gateway. I additionally mount the back of my leather soulbag to my trenchcoat, since everything i need from contracts to souls must be kept secure. I take one last whiff of my cigarette, stomping the miniscule rest out with my boot.
Let's jump!