The fog is drawing in closer to Lilith as she descends towards the ground. The ground is grey, indistinct. A few hundred feet away, something underground is shining with a red light. She can see the light through the ground because it is her assignment target.

  She slowly descends to the ground, the surface is soft but doesn’t break as her boots try to push through it.

  Her scythe appears in her hands, popping in from nowhere.

  With a thought she transformed the scythe into her preferred weapon, a long whip. Holding it bunched together in her right-hand, she draws out the pistol she had acquired from a co-worker previously.

  There are only four shots left.

  She walks quickly towards the red light. It is just beneath the grey-black ground now, only a few feet in front of her.

  She chants softly, “This one resists. The reaper comes.”

  The fog and the indistinct grey surface beneath her were rapidly changing. There was now grass below her feet, cemetery headstones every few feet.

  A soft light was shining from a lantern hanging on a pole further down the row of gravestones.

  The target had not yet woken. She would have dug up the grave and slain the target, but Bureau policy was clear. She had to wait.

  In the long shadow of the lantern, she removed each of the bullets from her pistol and then reloaded them.

  She thought she was maybe in Germany or Austria. The target assigned by the Assignment division would always glow red, regardless of distance. Traveling the deathlands was much quicker than moving across the earth normally.

  After waiting a while, she noticed the ground underneath the gravestone was shifting slightly. She readied both weapons.

  The creature that crawled out of the grave had long sharp nails, teeth like fangs, and a pale death-like complexion. The creature that was once human could only gurgle and hiss.

  She shot the creature in the chest once and then struck it with her whip. The whip wrapped around the creature’s torso.

  The creature lashed at her, freeing itself from the whip. The whip struck again and then she turned it back into a scythe.

  The creature fell forward, stumbling. She smashed her booted foot into its head and then carved a massive gouge out of its chest.

  The creature did not possess blood. The mockery of skin peeled off the defier as she slashed twice more at the fallen creature’s torso. She ripped open the creature’s chest, using the scythe to pry at it.

  In the center of its chest cavity was an organ that looked like a black lump. She fired her pistol twice more into that lump, and the creature stopped moving.

  From the pocket of her black leather jacket, she drew out a silver dragon lighter and a small flask of olive oil. Spreading the oil over the creature’s body, she lit the creature ablaze.

  Its desiccated body burned all over, and very rapidly. After it was mostly burned, she kicked apart and smashed what remained of the body until there were only ashes left.

  She made the scythe disappear and put the pistol in her concealed holster. She walked out of the cemetery, into a dimly lit street.

  Once she returned to the Bureau, there would be more assignments, so she decided to look for a place to restock her pistol shots.

  She had taken her stash of Euro coins, it was an odd collection of different sizes of coin..

  The best way she had to find stores was the to return to the deathlands and scan for souls. Wherever she found a higher concentration of souls was likely a good place to look.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She only found small groups of souls, each of them bright dots on a map in her mind’s eye. There was one location that was a bit concentrated. She took to the sky, easily floating towards the location in the distance.

  She landed and returned to reality while she was still a block away. She saw the sign across the street. Place of Social Relaxation, she translated. It was dark out, perhaps she would have to wait until the morning to gain her resupply.

  This must be a small town she concluded. With so little concentration of souls and the woods were just beyond the street. She found a place in the woods, away from any prying eyes, and laid down next to a tree. She slept for the first time in years.

  Lilith woke up, worrying she missed some appointment, before remembering she was on the mortal earth. Birds chirped in the cool fall time air, as the trees were gradually dropping colorful leaves.

  She stood up and walked back to the street. The gathering place was silent and still now.

  She could see where the town was more built up now that it was daytime, and she headed towards the center of the town.

  Crossing the road onto main street, she saw a store (“Animal carving service?”) with a man and a woman speaking.

  She knew her understanding of the local language was lackluster. But the conversation was just weird.

  (“Ah, I had prepared to seek out the Animal Carver’s cased meet. You know my associate loves it and we have celebration-preparation.”)

  (“Good tidings! The Animal Carver is of Perfect Quality.”)

  She looked at the row of shops as she passed the Animal Carver.

  There was (“Food Merchant”) and (“Medicine Store”), and lastly (“Hunter’s Shop”).

  She crossed the street and headed to the Hunter’s Shop in hope that was the right place.

  The interior was roughcut hardwood. Inside a glass case, she saw a weapon one of her contemporaries had used. It was a massive weapon, called a shotgun according to him. She didn’t see any pistols in any of the display cases.

  A bald man was standing behind the counter.

  (“What can I assist with, girl?”)

  “I would like to buy some more ammunition. What is the appropriate method to provide my weapon for identification?”

  (“We only provide hunter’s weapons and rounds for those. Do you have a shotgun or single-shot rifle? Bring them in, unloaded, if you do.”)

  “I am a hunter however I have a pistol. I was told it is a Smith.”

  (“You will need to go to the big city for that. You must provide the Bureau paperwork showing your authorization for non-hunter weapons. More advisably, report to your superiors for instruction.”)

  That translation seemed quite inaccurate. But it was clear this merchant and this small-town would not be able to provide her what she needed.

  “Thank you for your attempted help. I will be going now.”

  She took a few steps out of the building, went around the side of the building, and then phased back into the deathlands.

  She will have to get a solution to her ammo problem back at the Bureau.

  Not all the Bureau operatives were human in appearance. The great crow flying far overhead was one of them. It flew unerringly and there were no other crows around.

  Even with the greater speed of moving through the deathlands, she had another hour of flying before she could reach the portal back to the Bureau.

  When she arrived, she walked up the ivory steps which lead to a portal that shined with bright light. The circular aperture would consume anyone who wasn’t part of the Bureau if they tried to enter.

  She passed through unharmed and returned to her home.

  At the center of the dimension was a palace in what she guessed was the Ancient Chinese style. Surrounding it were gardens, eight temples, and then beyond all that were modern-style office buildings.

  The Reaper bureau was contained within just one of the buildings. A small-bureau within the Bureau entire.

  The scythes they were issued with only capable of violence within reality and in the deathlands. Some operatives still wore the black robes and kept to the whole tradition.

  Mostly it was the first line of support. Human legends only took note of these new agents of death. Lilith and her contemporaries could be considered the second line of support. When some being escaped the first line or was sufficiently hostile to the settled order to earn our attention.

  Undead creatures of all kinds went straight to us.

  The robed new agents traveled in groups, and Lilith went passed them to the elevator. Seventh floor. She’d had a few assignments in high rises in the real world, but none of them were as regularly cleaned or immaculate as the Bureau’s elevators.

  The fifth through seventh floors were office space for the second line operatives. Lilith’s team was focused on the undead, but they still had a variety of assignments, not always in their specialty.

  Weariness was a mortal matter, but still she felt some remnant or memory of the feeling.

  She had her own office. The amount of sensitive work they did ensured that. Only the top members of the Bureau knew about all the supernatural and undead forces. It was all classified as need to know.

  Mortal trifles were on her desk. Either things she had collected, or more commonly her friends in the department would bring back things as a gift. She had given a few gifts to associates dealing with their Bureau anniversaries before.

  She took a mint, placing it in her mouth and imagining what smell and taste were like. Those sensations could come back to her through memory, just for a moment.

  There was a bobblehead of some ‘sports’ figure, mortal pens and paperclips, even a bird’s feather.

  She opened up her computer, going straight to her voice messages.

  A reminder message, from someone, to use mortal equipment according to Bureau use policies, and a message from the department head about a new assignment.

  She headed to her supervisor’s office. He might be out on an assignment as well, but it was good to check.