Nathan moaned softly as he came to, rubbing the side of his head.  The soft leather of the plush sofa squeaked under him slightly as he pushed himself into a sitting position.  The air was slightly musty and smelled of fresh brewed tea and pipe tobacco.  Opening his eyes he could see that he was in a study of some kind.  An elderly gentleman in a black suit and tie was sitting behind a desk, going through a thick file as he puffed intermittently on an ornate wooden pipe.  He ran his fingers through his close-cropped white hair as he read.

“Where am I?"  Nathan croaked, his mouth was dry and his throat ached like he’d been swallowing sand.

"I’ll tell you, but you’re not gonna like it.”  The stranger’s rich, sonorous voice echoed around the room.  Stacks of books tried to steal away bits of the sound but failed as he shut the thick file.

He looks around, confused, unsure of where he is or how he got there, “What?  Did I get fired and pass out from the shock or something?”

“In a manner,”  The old man grinned, revealing a row of even, shockingly white, perfect teeth.  "You might say your career has taken a wildly different path.“

Nathan stood up, walking around the room, sliding his finger along the spines of the books lining the shelves around him.  They were all in alphabetical order and each had only a name, no titles on any of them.  "What are you talking about?”  He asked, starting to get a little nervous about whatever was happening, “Where am I?  What’s the meaning of this?!”

“Ah!”  The old man laughed, “What’s the meaning of this?  No, no, you don’t get to learn THAT old chestnut for a while yet.  Now, as far as what’s going on?”  He pressed the tips of his gloved fingers together and smiled over them at Nathan, “You died.”

The younger man just stared at him, “I died?  What the hell do you mean I died?  I’m standing right here, aren’t !?”

“I mean, you fuckin’ died.”  The man suddenly slammed his hands down on the thick file with a BANG.  The heavy folder was gone, replaced with a smooth leather bound book with the name Nathan Stillwinter printed on the spine, “Your story is over, your last chapter written, at least in this volume.”  He picks up the book and places it on a shelf behind him.

Nathan flops back down on the couch, “But, how?  Why?  I mean…”

“What happened to you?  Doesn’t matter.”  He smiles, “The name’s Tobiah, by the way.”  He extended his hand to the younger man.

He reached out to shake the older man’s hand and a cold lance of energy shot up his arm and straight into his heart, causing his vision to swim for a moment.  He blinked a few times, clearing his eyes only to find himself sitting behind the desk, dressed in a fine black suit while Tobiah was now on the sofa, dressed in sandals, khaki shorts and a loud black and orange Hawaiian shirt.

“Now, you were my one millionth soul.  What that means is now, I get to go back, live out the rest of my lifespan in the lap of luxury, and then go on to my eternal reward.  You, however, get to take my place as a reaper.”  The older man stood up, stretching.

“A reaper?  What…?”

“Bah, it’s all just paperwork nowadays.  You just look over the books of some borderline cases and send them down the line, up or down, it’s simple really.”  He backs towards the door as he waves goodbye, “Oh, by the way, you might want to get reading, your next appointment is in about an hour.”

The door shut with a loud bang as Nathan looked down at the desk, his mind already spinning.  He looked at the thick file folder that had appeared on the desk and flipped the cover open.  His blood ran cold with dread as he mouthed the name aloud. 

“Maria Stillwinter…”