Psychopomp

Tell me, what is it that frightens you?

What keeps your restless mind from slumber's sweet oblivion?

Is it worry? Rational fears of debts unpaid or fretting over loved ones? Perhaps there is something else weighing on you, a crushing sensation of existential dread.

It can truly be a heavy burden, living. I've seen that empty look in countless eyes, a crushing hopelessness that never ends. Each day only brings new struggles for the unfortunate, unseen problems compounding the misery of life. Yet still they carry on, bodies listlessly moving on auto-pilot.

Sometimes even that fails them as well.

When they reach the end of their sorrowful journey, I bring them mercy: A softest touch, the merest nudge into the great beyond.

But though they eagerly seek me out, fear still gnaws their hearts. The harsh finality of the act taints their relief. I always feel those regrets, silent wishes left unfulfilled.

Go, I tell them. Tend to your unfinished business.

This always surprises the recently deceased. Many are under the impression that I am a ruthless harvester of souls, a demonic executioner who drags spirits to the underworld.

I suppose this can be attributed to the vivid imagination of mortals, but one can hardly blame the poor creatures. None of them understand that which lies beyond.

Today, a middle-aged woman was travelling home from work, singing “Tainted Love” along with the radio. Fingers tapping in time with that catchy tune, she impatiently waited for the stoplight to change.

Once it flashed green, the little car roared into life.

Lost in the music, she didn’t notice when an eighteen-wheeler plowed through the intersection, striking her from the side. The truck driver had been asleep, weary after an overnight shift.

He woke up to a living nightmare.

I felt the strings of fate sever instantly, compelling, forcing me witness her final moments.

There I sat; a helpless bystander along for the ride. From the passenger seat, I grimly watched her head collide against the window with a sickening thud. Her mouth fell open in a soundless cry. Crimson droplets blossomed, spilling into spidery cracks split-seconds before the glass shattered.

The chaos ceased once her silvery animus separated from the inanimate husk.

It was time to deliver the bad news.



“What do you mean I’m dead?” Her hazel eyes pleaded at my calm insistence, hoping I was somehow mistaken. Denial was a common response, often followed by grief.

I sighed and gestured at our surroundings.

We were sitting in the mangled vehicle as grey plumes of smoke hung suspended over the cracked windshield. Behind her transparent form, a fresh corpse lay motionless; a broken mass of bleeding flesh. It stared blankly at the murderous machine outside.

The tractor-trailer was skidding, the horrified operator cranking on the brake in desperation. His bleary face was looking down at the pulverized vehicle with a mixture of shock and guilt.

A young man who witnessed the crash from the sidewalk stood motionless outside the crumpled wreck, hands reaching for the door. He was a college student, a wide-eyed freshman.

I would come for him a few years after one fateful party, when ravenous addiction burrowed into the naïve youth and spread its gangrenous corruption.

But at this brief infinity, he was standing beside the driver door, hands outstretched. Mouth half-open, the concerned boy would call for aid once I departed.

Help would never reach us. We were outside of time, a place where I brought every newly made phantasm.

Look around you, I said to the spectral woman. Do you think anyone would survive this?

She slumped against the twisted steering wheel, passing through floating shards of blood-stained glass. A gold ring gleamed on her hands as they clutched at the flowing auburn hair obscuring her anguished face. Faint sobs shook the newly-born ghost.

Staring blankly, the fresh corpse lay motionless behind the transparent form, a broken mass of bleeding flesh.

As usual, I quietly allowed some time to process the drastic changes. Being able to stretch a second out into eternity meant that we were never in a hurry.

Turning over the string of fate in my hands, I listened to it whisper the history of a dead woman named Erica. I knew everything about her, friends she confided in, the man who loved her, the adoring children waiting at home. It was a good life, cut short by forces greater than my own.

Rubbing the frayed end, I glimpsed a small gathering of people huddled around a rectangular hole. Earth scattered over the wooden box below, falling from her husband’s shaking hands. Two small children clung to his legs, a girl and a boy. They solemnly watched the proceedings, observing as the container holding their mother was gradually obscured from sight.

Though the gaping ground will be filled, everyone left that place feeling hollow.

Erica doesn’t need to see the future. She knows the pain this day will cause, the sorrow spreading from her sudden departure.

Now the ghost looks up at me. Gone are the begging eyes, desperately asking for me to fix this, to take back what fate decried. Now those amber irises are filled with accusing resentment, anger at me, hatred towards the truck driver, towards the entire world for stealing the only treasure she possessed.

A question burned in that gaze, a single word left unspoken.

Why.

I don’t know, I said. This isn’t some punishment, neither is it a reward. It simply is.

“Did you have to kill me today of all days?” Erica lamented, wiping ethereal tears away. She glared at the dented truck outside. “Why couldn’t you take me in my sleep? At least then I would have gotten to see them one last time…”

Nobody has fallen by my hand; I am not the ender of lives. My sacred duty is to guide souls to their final resting place. If you wish, I can take you there now.

She blinked at this answer, confusion extinguishing flames of fury. “And if I refuse? What happens to me then?”

You will wander the earth, incorporeal and unseen. Loved ones might feel your presence in quiet moments, when all else is still. On certain nights, you can make yourself known - but this can sometimes do more harm than good. Also - the longer your spirit remains, the more you will begin to forget. You will be doomed to an eternity of drifting aimlessly forever.

Erica said nothing for a time.

“What will happen to the driver?” She asked timidly.

I cannot tell you, his fate is his alone.

“Can I listen to the rest of the song?” Erica ventured a hopeful smile. I nodded and waved a skeletal finger at the radio. The music slowly faded back into existence, picking up where it left off.

“… Once I ran to you, now I'll run from you…” The singer crooned from the warped dashboard.

She laughed bitterly. “I never thought this would be the last thing I hear.”

It doesn’t have to be.

Erica looked up in astonishment. “Really?” Something flickered across her pained expression, a shining glimmer of hope.

“I love you though you hurt me so, now I'm going to pack my things and go…”

I held out my bony palm, an invitation.

Tentatively, she reached toward it and clasped her transparent hand in mine. “Touch me baby, tainted love…”


We appeared in her living room, where her children were busy making a cheerful mess. Stepping over toys and broken crayons, Erica rushed to them. Giggling, they passed through her and raced towards the kitchen.

Their father was stirring a bubbling pot, sweat beading on his brow. He consulted a recipe, frowning until the two little ones raced into the room.

“Oh ho! Two tasty kids, perfect for my recipe!” Grinning broadly, he chased them out as they squealed in mock fright. “Daddy’s a monster! Runnnn!”

Erica watched them play, tears shining on her smiling face. I placed a bony hand on her shoulder, asking a silent question.

Biting her lip, she shook her head softly.

I stepped away.

They raced around the living room for a while, until the monster sniffed the air and his eyes widened. Rushing back to the stove, he tried his best to salvage the dinner. “Guess it’s pizza again tonight.” He grumbled as the children cheered.

“I’m sure your mother won’t be so excited. What’s keeping her this late?” The phone buzzed.

When he answered it, the reason became all too clear.

Again, I gently placed my hand on her shaking back. Erica turned towards me, unable to watch any longer.

An instant later, this earthly realm was long behind us. She followed me willingly to the ends of the universe and beyond. I kept her safe along the journey, passing ancient horrors that defy comprehension and beings of indescribable beauty.

Once we arrived, when the gates opened to my touch, Erica let go of my hand. She said nothing but I could see the gratitude in her eyes. There was a long sigh, the sound one makes after returning home from an extended absence
.
And then, she was gone.


Dear reader, what keeps your restless mind from slumber’s sweet oblivion?

Is it fear of death? Or… is it something else? Perhaps life is the most terrifying thing of all, with its unpredictable nature and emotional ties we dread to sever.

Tell me, do I still frighten you?