The Reaper's Mark

This story was inspired by the following writing prompt: The Grim  Reaper no longer owns the job of taking lives. When it's someone's time they get marked, and regular people have to kill them. 

Liv sat up slowly, yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Blinking at her alarm clock she groaned; she woke up at 6:25 a.m. five minutes before her alarm was set to go off. She cracked her neck, stood up, put on her slippers, and headed downstairs to start her coffee. She started to fill the pot with water and took in the morning view of her neighborhood through her open window.

'Oh, there's Jim,' she thought to herself, seeing her neighbor coming out his front door. Liv hadn't seen him in a few days. She had assumed he was on a trip out of town, but taking in his pale, sickly form she thought it was just as likely he'd been in bed all this time. She turned off the faucet and started to pour the water into the coffee maker, trying to remember when flu season started. Jim reached his mailbox and pulled out a newspaper and a few envelopes as his next door neighbor, Tom, left his house. He waved at Jim, who, with a nervous glance around and a small smile, slowly waved back. His sleeve fell as he raised his arm, revealing an image of a black and red scythe on his wrist; the Reaper's Mark.

'What a shame,' Liv sighed to herself as Tom took a deep breath and glanced at his watch with irritation, before beginning to walk over to Jim. Jim appeared to be stammering something as he dropped his mail, pulling his sleeve back down, and beginning  to back towards his home. Tom, however, wasn't phased by whatever Jim was saying, and he quickly gave up and started running back towards his house. Tom ran after him and caught him as he ran up the porch steps. Jim struggled to throw Tom off and for a moment Liv wondered if she should go out and help before Jim managed to escape but Tom quickly began gaining control and Liv decided he could handle it. Putting Jim in a headlock and squeezing the life out of him, Tom waited impatiently for Jim to stop struggling. When he finally went limp Tom waited a few more seconds and checked his pulse. Pushing Jim's lifeless body to the ground, he started to pull out his phone.

"I got it!" Liv called to him through her window, phone in hand, already dialing the Reapers Collection Agency.

"Thanks!" He called back, obviously running late for work. She put her phone to her ear as she watched him jog to his car, just in time to hear a woman's bright voice come on the line.

"Thanks for performing your civic duty and calling the R.C.A! How can we help you today?"

"Hi, I'm calling on behalf of my neighbor Jim. His Mark appeared and our other neighbor, Tom, took care of it. Looks like he's been hiding out in his house for a while avoiding it, so I'm not sure when the mark appeared." Liv held the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she put a filter in her coffee maker and started filling it with the ground coffee.

"Alright, what's Jim's last name? And his address?"

"I'm not sure what his last name is; we've barely made polite small talk. His address is 680 Cherry Avenue though. That's where Tom left him."

"Ah, okay, that must be Jim Matthews. Yes, we've got all his information right here. Well be there for collection before 8 a.m. So sorry for your loss, ma'am." With that the still cheerful woman hung up the phone and Liv started upstairs. As she took her morning shower and got dressed, she wondered what it's like to have the mark appear. Everyone knows you don't feel anything and you can't see it coming, but what must it be like to see it on your wrist? Obviously, Jim was scared but Liv could never even imagine trying to live once her time came. Hopefully nobody will have to kill her; she'd rather do it herself. 

Ready for her day, Liv walked downstairs, filled a thermos with hot coffee and a little creamer, grabbed an orange from the basket on the counter, and went out to her car. As she got in she noticed the R.C.A.'s van was already in front of Jim's house. Two men got out of the black vehicle and went to the back, pulling out a stretcher and a body bag. Liv quickly started her car and left; she didn't want to focus on Jim's body too much. They may not have been close but he was always polite and it was a shame his time had come. 

Her route to work wasn't long but the traffic was so slow that it felt like hours. Tapping her fingers on the wheel, she looked at the cars surrounding her. Everyone looked tired and impatient. Absentmindedly, she decided to turn on the radio. As she reached for the button her sleeve pulled back and she saw a small black and red spot on her wrist. As though in a daze, she slowly pulled her sleeve further up her arm, revealing the Reaper's Mark which looked as if it were an image being pressed into her skin from inside her wrist.

Liv's breath caught in her throat and her eyes started to fill with years. This made sense. She had to die now she had been tempting fate wondering what it was like. Traffic finally began topics forward, but while everyone around her seemed relieved Liv felt as is she had swallowed a Tom of bricks. Heart heavy, she turned away from the main road and drove until she reached a long, deserted road. Parking on the side of it, Liv pulled out her phone and dialed the R.C.A. once again. While the first call had been answered by a bubbly woman, this one was answered by a man who sounded as if he might keel over from boredom at any moment.

"Thank you for performing your civic duty and calling the Reapers Collection Agency. How can we help you today?"

"Um, yes, hello," Liv sniffles. Clearing her throat she continued, "I'm calling to report that my Mark has just appeared."

"I'm sorry ma'am, I know this must be difficult." A hint of sympathy entered his voice but still her sounded as if he was being forced to watch paint dry. "Can you tell me your full name and address please, ma'am?"

"Yes, of course, my name is Olivia Julie Turned. My address is 677 Cherry Avenue."

"Thank you. Now, where are you currently, ma'am? Do you need someone to take care of your Mark for you?"

"I'm on Ivory Street. I can take care of it myself, thank you."

"Alright ma'am, a team will head over there shortly for collection. I'm very sorry for your loss." Liv hung up the p phone and pulled out into the road. Driving along it she began to pick up speed. Soon she was going 90 mph. A sharp turn was coming up but instead of slowing down, Liv aimed for the tree by it. Tears streaming down her face and slamming her foot down on the gas pedal, she closed her eyes.