Chapter Text
Late.
Always. No matter the occasion, whether it was serious or trivial, his siblings would always arrive late.
Death checked his watch for the third time that day and upon seeing the hour hand landing on 12, he noted that his kin were now thirty minutes behind schedule.
It’s better this way I suppose, Death thought. He brushed a thick strand of ebony hair behind his ear before pushing himself through a pair of glass doors. Without bothering to look at the expecting stares and blossoming scowls, Death sat back down in a rather large black leather chair and picked up a still smoldering cigar from the ashtray across from him.
“You can continue,” Death waved on,” no need to bother waiting since, as I told you for the third time, my gracious siblings won’t be coming anytime soon.”
The petite red imp standing in front nervously fixed her collar before turning back to the presentation. As she began to speak, Death took note of all the things he would say to the Three Stooges after the meeting. He bit down on his cigar.
Why do I even bother. They never listen anyway. It'd be a waste of breath.
“—furthermore, the board will be sending a representative from Heaven in the coming weeks to help regulate the—.”
“Another representative? What do those imbeciles think of us?” A rather large, green skinned cyclops spoke, his forked tongue slithering from his cracked lips in a disgusted hiss,” we are perfectly able as we are.”
“Ssssilence, Faex. ‘Tisss nothing to get your ass tied up in a not about. We won’t even know the damned pigeon existsss,” a vertically challenged gorgon spoke, her wild maine of snakes hissing into the direction of the projector. They then turned to Death, their eyes blinking wildly expectation.
He looked unstirred at the gorgon, the cigar between his lips almost breaking in half.
“Unlessss, Mr. Death sssayss otherwissse.”
“Otherwise to what? It'll be the same as always,” a satyr spoke,” another pigeon, another demon, another human blah blah blah—what’s the difference? They all leave as quick as they come.”
The conference room began to grow in volume, the agitated voices within pushing against the walls and out into the hallways of the building. Hisses, growls and even a repetitive squeak was heard. Death gritted his teeth after plucking the still smoldering cigar from his lips. He then slammed it down into the ashtray, silencing the room.
His golden orbs, heated by annoyance and pure anger, stayed half-lidded in an aloof glare.
“Argya.”
The imp’s shoulders shook.
“When will the representative arrive?”
“Well around, say, in the next week? Maybe before then?”
Death stayed silent.
“I-I mean next Tuesday, sir! Excuse my forgetfulness.”
“Calm down, Argya. No need to be any more red than you already are,” Death then turned to view the rest of the meeting room,” and really, do I have to remind you all of basic social etiquette? Or did the cubicles down in the 7th ward make you forget?”
“Guess the nephilim were never in the 7th ward them.”
“And I’ve never known what the innards of a cyclops looked like on marble floors.”
Faex’s face fell flat and his shoulders squeezed upwards. Death continued to give the green idiot his signature icy stare before returning his gaze back to the fidgeting imp up in the front.
“Would that be all for today, Argya?”
“For the meeting yes.”
Death exhaled.
“But I must discuss with you about the representative.”
Death sharply inhaled.
After a short discussion behind closed doors, Death leaned back on his chair and proceeded to flip through the small file on top of his desk. Ever since the Apocalypse came and went, the doors to Earth were now open to the galactic public. The Third Kingdom became an intergalactic social hub to those wanting enough to start fresh or experience the weird customs of humanity. Because of this, businesses dealing with all sorts of stuff began to flourish.
Death had to admit that when it was time for business, no creature could out talk better than a human. For such a small and soft race, those bipedal talking puppies knew exactly what to say when to say it and because of this they flourished in the wealth it wrought. Death had come across a few remarkable humans in his lifetime. He remembered going to the country of Romania on a mission to dispose of a vampire that had made its life's work to get drunk on blood.
Scythes in hand, Death was ready to vanquish the creature until a human, sturdy in stature and with a wooden stake in hand, killed it before he could even get close. The human looked upon Death, smiled, and introduced himself as if the mere visage of death didn't do anything but raise the hairs off his little chest out of surprise.
“Why should I fear you?” The human, who introduced himself as Professor Abraham Van Helsing, laughed. His voice was thick and strong, reminding Death of a Kabouter he met once in his travels,” the reaping of souls defines your purpose on this earthly realm as does the hunting of the creatures of the night defines mine. Had the roles reversed, would you be afraid?”
“I suppose not. But how were you able to kill this creature? They're not so easy to put to the slaughter, human.”
“Everything and anything can be sent to the butcher, Death. You should know that better than I.”
Abraham, along with a small list of others, continued to surprise Death with their interesting take on the world despite how cut off they were from it. Death exhaled sharply and looked back down at the file before him. Picking at the flimsy, yellow material and turning it over to its front, Death ogled at the name displayed. Before he could develop an appropriate response, the door to his office swung open and the scruff of tiny feet on carpet floors emerged.
“ ‘sup, Death.” The abomination uttered.
“Alecto,” Death pinched the bridge of his nose,” what have I told you about barging into rooms without consent?”
“Oh. Sorry,” Alecto leaned over and knocked on the door three times,” hey, bonehead. Can I come in?”
Death ushered the small girl in and threw the file at her. She caught it with ease and swiftly made her way into a comfy, cool black leather armchair near the corner of the office. Alecto was one of the few unique humans Death had the unfortunate pleasure in meeting and begrudgingly befriending. She was a circus wheel of emotions spiraling from rabid to obscene all the way to downright creepy. However, from being beside him during his quest to clear his brother's name, the existential episode that was Alecto became Death's most trusted confidant.
Alecto flipped through the file, her eyes skimming line after line. She then looked at looked at the label and Death was certain he saw Alecto's eyes almost pop out of her sockets.
“Ain't that a bite on the ass? Didn't Agyra brief you on this? ‘ya could've denied.”
Alecto jumped off the chair and walked over to Death’s desk, hoping on top of it to provide extra comfort. She skimmed through the file again, snickering at the newest representative.
“But then again, he'd only be affecting you and not the business as a whole. This happens to be his area of expertise, bonehead. You didn't think you could run away forever, huh?”