Mermaid Pirate Dispatch

If it hadn’t been for the draped shadow figure before me with its razor sharp scythe, it would have taken me a lot longer to realize what had happened. I was aware I was still existing, still observing, but I felt entirely detached from the physical plane around me. Cars zipped past and though I knew there should be a rush of wind, there was nothing.

Death’s dark manifestation didn’t follow me as I drifted away from where I’d died on the sidewalk. Nobody had really noticed. Then again, I had slept on a nearby park bench most nights so people were probably used to seeing my body around the area, especially if I ever got my hands on a bottle of booze. I chuckled internally and wondered if that was what had finally done me in. Booze. How I loved booze. And cocaine.

Why wasn’t Death escorting me anywhere? He seemed to have all of his attention on my body. I turned to look also and felt a bright explosion of surprise spread through my immaterial presence. Another ghostly form was rising tentatively from my inert flesh. This one looked around as it lifted free of my body, its eyes wide with shock. Death’s faceless gaze turned to me, then back to the newcomer, and he just stared.

The second spirit approached me, its body-like form barely visible in the bright light of the early morning sun. I stared at it and it stared back. Our bonding moment was interrupted as the curved blade of death’s reaping tool hooked around me and dragged me away to his side. We both watched as a third soul gently drifted out of my cadaver. I turned to look at Death and found myself staring into the void of his cloak.

“What is happening?” he said softly. His voice was more airy than a wheezing smoker, and more chilling than a snake’s hiss.

I shrugged.

We turned back to the body and watched a fourth, then a fifth spirit rise, each one more confused at the ghostly crowd that was gathering around my grimy corpse.

Icy spiritual tingles crawled up and down my proverbial spine as Death faced me once again. I tried to smile while numbers six and seven joined the group. They were milling about, shrugging at each other and looking around like lost children at a funeral.

That’s when I spotted Amy. Amy had always been so nice to me, one of the few people to even notice me or give me the time of day. One time on a particularly bad day she had even shared her meal with me, half a delicious cheeseburger from the burger joint around the corner.

“Good morning Mike!” Her chipper, friendly voice was so nice to hear, but my countenance fell when I realized I couldn’t respond.

Amy stopped by my lifeless body and stared down, unaware of the cloaked reaper of souls standing mere feet away and the growing crowd of spirits lifting away from my body. I glanced around and counted a dozen so far, with another sitting up from the prone position in which I’d died. This one looked around and covered its mouth in shock before rising into the air and drifting toward the rest of them.

“Mike?” Her voice shook and she fumbled around in her purse a second before producing her phone. She quickly dialed emergency services. “Yeah, hello? I’d like to report a…” she choked on her words.

“Oh my gosh!” another woman nearby yelled. “Is that crazy Mike? Is he dead?” She shrieked the words and ran over to Amy, grabbing her by the arm. She was a big woman who immediately began to cry.

“OK, OK,” Amy was saying. “Yeah, I can hang up and wait for paramedics. Thank you.” She pulled away from the other woman and knelt by my body, tears building in her eyes. “Oh Mike,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry it had to happen like this.”

Another spirit emerged. I stopped trying to keep track. This one took one look at Amy and smiled. “I remember her,” it said with a distant, soft tone.

I peered at the newcomer as it gazed appreciatively at Amy. I looked at Death. “Is this normal?” I asked.

Death slowly, silently shook his head under the blackness of his cloak. Then he turned to leave.

“Wait,” I called out. “Aren’t you supposed to harvest my soul? Take me somewhere?”

He stopped and turned to face me. “I came for one soul,” he said. “I didn’t sign up to harvest a clown car’s worth of souls today.” Then he turned away and faded into nothing.

“Boy,” the larger woman said, “he sure was crazy, but we did have some fun conversations. Did he ever tell you about his friend Frank?” She laughed while sniffling and wiping tears.

“Yeah,” Amy sighed. “Frank wasn’t real.”

“Hey!” One of the spirits frowned and folded its arms. “I’m real!”

“I don’t think any of his friends were real,” the woman laughed. “He was crazy. Probably had multiple personality disorder, or something like it.”

Amy shook her head. “They were all real to him,” she said.

[Reddit Post]