The Grim – Afterlife Report!
The afterlife runs on order, balance, and terrifyingly thorough paperwork.
When the Grim is summoned for his annual review, he must defend his scythe-spinning habits, his “streamlined” soul extractions, and one deeply misunderstood appliance-related event. Performance: impressive. Professionalism: debatable.
Welcome to the corporate side of eternity.
Chapter One
The Grim adjusted his hood.
Not because he needed to.
He did not possess skin. Or temperature. Or shame.
But posture matters.
Even in the afterlife.
Especially in the afterlife.
He stood before a long obsidian desk carved from something that looked suspiciously like condensed regret. Behind it sat a figure of shifting starlight — the Auditor.
The Auditor did not blink.
The Grim did not either.
This went on for some time.
“Let us begin,” the Auditor said, voice echoing like pages turning in a cathedral.
The Grim straightened.
“Yes. Of course. Annual performance review. Love these.”
A massive spectral ledger thudded open between them.
It flipped pages on its own.
Very dramatically.
The Grim suspected it practiced.
Chapter Two
“Zombie incidents,” the Auditor began.
The Grim brightened.
“Down seventy-three percent.”
The Auditor tilted its head slightly.
“That is… correct.”
The Grim gestured proudly with his scythe.
“I’ve streamlined soul extraction protocols. Faster transitions. Fewer lingerers. Reduced necromantic interference. Honestly, it’s been a banner century.”
“You were not authorised to ‘streamline’ anything.”
“Ah.”
A pause.
“But you do enjoy the results?”
Another pause.
“…Continue.”
“Hauntings,” the Auditor said.
“Down forty percent,” Grim replied quickly. “Turns out most spirits just need closure. Or someone to listen. Or directions.”
“You provide directions?”
“I’m Death, not a monster.”
The Auditor made a small note in the ledger.
The ink appeared to be made of distant screams.
Very professional.
Chapter Three
“Now,” the Auditor said slowly, “we must address… the incident.”
The Grim stiffened.
“…Which one?”
“The toaster.”
The Grim sighed.
“In my defence, she said she wanted ‘something quick.’”
“You are not permitted to improvise methods.”
“It was a metaphor misunderstanding.”
The Auditor closed the ledger halfway.
“You are aware you are meant to guide souls. Not… experiment.”
“I don’t experiment.”
A pause.
“…Often.”
The Auditor leaned back — or expanded slightly; it was hard to tell.
“There have also been complaints.”
“Complaints?” Grim sounded genuinely wounded. “About me?”
“You have been described as ‘overly theatrical.’”
The Grim gasped.
“I have a brand.”
“You are not required to spin the scythe before every collection.”
“It builds anticipation.”
“It builds anxiety.”
The Grim considered this.
“…That’s fair.”
Chapter Four
The ledger snapped shut.
“Despite irregularities,” the Auditor concluded, “your sector shows marked improvement.”
The Grim clasped his skeletal hands together.
“I do try.”
“Your continued employment is… approved.”
The Grim exhaled a breath he did not technically have.
“Oh, excellent.”
“However,” the Auditor added, “there will be oversight.”
A smaller spectral figure materialised beside him.
It held a clipboard.
The clipboard glowed.
The Grim stared.
“…You’ve assigned me an intern.”
“Yes.”
The intern waved nervously.
It appeared to be semi-transparent and deeply regretting its life choices.
The Grim leaned toward it.
“Do you like horses?” he whispered.
The intern blinked.
“…What?”
“Never mind.”
Chapter Five
The Auditor dissolved back into starlight.
The desk faded.
The void returned to quiet.
The Grim turned slowly toward the intern.
“Well,” he said, adjusting his hood again, “first rule of the afterlife — always check for unfinished business.”
He paused.
“Second rule — never mention the toaster.”
The intern scribbled frantically.
“Third rule,” Grim added, lifting his scythe and giving it a small, unnecessary spin, “timing is everything.”
A bell chimed somewhere in the distance.
Another soul ready for collection.
The Grim stepped into the mist.
“Come along,” he called.
The intern hurried after him.
“Try not to look too ominous,” Grim said. “That’s my department.”
Epilogue
The Grim leaned against his scythe, finishing the tale.
“And War was right,” he said. “We brought order. Balance. Structure.”
He gestured vaguely at the swirling mist of the afterlife.
“For example, thanks to me guiding souls like yourself onward, zombie incidents are at an all-time low.”
He adjusted a sleeve he didn’t technically need.
“I complain about the paperwork, but it’s good work.”
The recently deceased woman stared at him.
“That’s… fascinating,” she said slowly. “But when I asked how did all this happen, I just meant — how did I die?”
The Grim froze.
“Oh.”
He glanced at a wrist where no watch existed.
“Would you look at that — terribly behind schedule.”
“But I—”
“Terribly sorry.”
He swung his scythe gently through her spectral form. Her soul drifted onward before she could finish protesting.
The Grim stood in silence.
Then sighed.
“Well, that was embarrassing.”
The End – Thank you for reading The Grim – Afterlife Report
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