At the edge of the Cavalcafé restroom’s row of sinks, Cheron sits with the two horse-men. Although they are both brawny and white, they are not identical. The horse to Cheron’s left compulsively braids his mane and vents a mile a minute. This is Toupika. The horse to Cheron’s right sits with one hoof tucked between his legs and the other hoof over his muzzle. This is Sven.
Toupika gesticulates between braids. “And sometimes I’ll wake up at noon and just feel drained. Like, I’ll feel tired from waking up, you feel me?”
Cheron nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I feel you.”
Sven chimes, “And the day will already feel wasted? That’s when I really start to worry.”
“Oh, god, yeah,” Toupika concludes, and the three just sit there for a few moments.
“...But that’s okay.” Cheron rubs the backs of her two new friends. “Not every day has to be an upward struggle and a boulder. In lethargic periods, you should still try your hardest to accomplish all you wanted, but don’t beat yourself up. Don’t wallow in your shortcomings; celebrate your success. You didn’t just wake up at noon. You got up. You feel me?
Toupika lets his hair down. “Yeah… Yeah, I feel you.”
“We’ve got our lives to live, brother.” Sven clacks his hooves together. “I don’t even know what we’re doing here.”
Back in the dining room, not much has changed, save for perhaps the strength of the planet’s gravity. The air feels hotter and unsatisfying, almost choking. Some patrons murmur amongst each other, but most shush back. Oto pats his forehead with a black handkerchief, then sets it down as the waitress approaches with their order. She nearly drops it as she scuttles to and from the kitchen, attempting to escape from the room’s intensity. Juby and Oto stare at each other, and all patrons stare at them until Cheron, Sven, and Toupika stride out of the restroom. The torrent of eyes darts their way.
“Oh,” Sven says. “That’s what we were doing.”
“Please. Stay right where you are, Cherry.” Oto holds up a hand. “I’ve got this.”
He then groans in vocal fry as Cheron ambles toward them. The clack of her heels echoes throughout the room. “What’s up.”
Juby tilts her head and smirks. “Cheryl-Jane!”
“You.”
“I’m Juby.”
“Uh huh. What do you want?”
Juby scoffs a giggle. “What is up with you people? Why do you assume that I want something from you? All I want is a fun—”
“Just give me your phone, Juby.” Oto’s voice is low, stern, and fatherly. “No one can know about this.”
Her grin widens. “Oh yeah? Why is that? For the good of your PR?”
Oto brings his hands together. “For the good of the universe.”
Juby laughs from her belly. “Oh! Oh, wow. The good of the universe?! You do realize who you are, right?”
The redhead’s eye flickers. “What’s happening?”
“I think the better question is ‘what’s going to happen?’!” Juby stands. “Go ahead, Death! Tell her!”
Oto sighs. “Let me just pull up the email.” He flips out his trench coat and grabs his phone, but he can’t quite open the device. He is still wearing gloves. “Give me a second…” He taps at the screen several times. “We just happened to miss an email, Cherry, don’t worry about it though. It’s not your fault. If anything, we need to set up a Hotel penitentiary for those rogues.” He keeps tapping. His passcode is more than eight characters and he keeps getting it wrong. “Apparently, all three of them are part of Juby’s fan club, can you believe—”
“Alright, shut up, forget it.” Juby raises her voice. “The universe is ending. If y’all were waiting for confirmation, this is it. Woo-hoo, big sad, aw shucks.” She crosses her arms and plops back into her chair. “You ruined it, Death. You ruined the big reveal. Are you happy?”
He is still trying to input his passcode. “I am giddy with delight.”
The patrons’ murmurs have morphed into a cacophony of gasping, sobbing, and the occasional scream. Many flee the establishment. Others call their families and friends.
“Huh.” Cheron sticks a fork in her tres leches and recalls the conversation she and Oto had in their suite, which high-ranking employees have access to. She recalls the uncharacteristically messy workspace, all the read emails, and how she didn’t take time reading any of them. “The rogues,” she mutters then whips out her phone. After removing a glove with her teeth, Cheron carefully scrolls through the reapers’ inbox designated for business inquiries. She reaches a recent email from the Boss. It had been forwarded to Juby. The redhead sinks with guilt. She then yells through gritted teeth upon realizing that the email was originally sent to spam.
The notice reads, “Hi there!! Thanks for working so hard. Here’s the last batch. Until next time!” Attached to the email are the last couple million of to-reap lists.
Juby tosses her own phone into the air, flipping it like a coin. “Originally, we were just supposed to steal your Scythe, but that plan fell through for some reason. So now we’re stealing your will to live, or your happiness, or whatever. Not like either of you know anything about any of that.”
Cheron snatches the shifter’s phone, hurls it to the floor, and shatters it with her heel.
Juby purses her lips, but it does nothing to conceal her scream. “That’s. Fine. I got what I needed. We all got what we needed. The top trending hashtag on the Hivemind is #DeathIsNotTheEnd. Has a good ring to it, right? Even if you two don’t agree, literally everyone else does, so...”
Oto and Cheron scan the room. All remaining patrons have their eyes glued to their phones. Some download the Hivemind for the first time just to follow Juby and gawk at the leaked email. Cheron gulps, switches to another app on her own phone, then shows it to Oto. The screen displays their upcoming clients, some of which have yet to die. He glances at it, then back at Juby, his eyes faintly glowing. They are here for a job, after all.
Juby continues. “Look, I know you’re not happy, but I had everyone’s best interest in mind. You even get a chance to change your PR.” She points to the café’s entrance. “I’ve got a bunch of fellow Earthling refugees on their way. They just want to ask some questions. You know, like, why you destroyed their lives and stole everything dear to them? And why you’re now destroying literally everything else? Just the basic stuff.”
Oto glares at her. He does not blink his glowing eyes when he says, “Unnamed Client, unofficially dubbed ‘Juby,’ of Unnamed Planet #4901-JB. Cause of death: manslaughter.”
Juby stares at him, not immediately registering his words. She is not having fun anymore. Gripping her antennae, she silently scours the room, unable to find a retort, let alone the root of her inevitable demise. Outside the café, a titanic spacecraft lands. It sounds like a cyclone. The sound rings in Juby’s head. She can’t tell if she’s screaming as she grips her antennae tighter. Heat rises and swells in her stomach, and every stare in the room stabs her endlessly. “Well you wanna know how You die?!”
Oto looks around then back at Juby. “I’m curious.”
“Her.” Juby thrusts a finger at Cheron. “But not before she makes you feel alive, not before she makes you feel like everything in the multiverse and more.” The fuschia light flickers and beams, causing Oto to shield his eyes. “You’re going to laugh and look to see that she’s laughing too. She’s going to bleed and you’re going to train your body to bleed as well. You’re going to argue about who takes the dog out in the frostbitten mornings, but you’ll have your own secret language for it, so you’ll feel warm anyway. She will make you feel warm.”
The blinding light fades and, when Oto removes his hands from his unblinking eyes, he sees himself. The only detail Juby is missing is a pair of glowing kumquat orbs, but her white scleras quiver in a way that Oto can only contrive.
Juby doesn’t wipe her tears. “And then she’ll end it, but you’ll still know how to bleed.”
The cyclone-like sound has been replaced by a faint marching that swells louder each second. Oto can’t move.
Cheron puts her fork down and pats her lips with the black handkerchief, which is now left with a coral-colored kiss-shaped stain. “I need to pee.” She folds the handkerchief and tucks it into Oto’s breast pocket. As she does, she whispers something into the man’s ear.
He blinks at her then smiles. “I’ll come with you,” he says, following the redhead into the restroom. The marching has morphed into muted knocking and roaring. Worried patrons eye the entrance, creeping out of their seats.
“...Uh.” The doppelgänger blinks. “What.”
The patrons scream and cry as the stampede of vicious Earthlings bust down the door. Some claw at the fairy-lit windows, while others break the restaurant’s titanium white frames to use as torches. They thrust signs that read, “OUR STORY WILL END SOON,” but most have corrected theirs to read, “YOUR STORY ENDS NOW.”
“I HAVE THE RIGHT TO LIVE!” A rioting human screams as he charges for Juby. With two hands, he swings a massive makeshift scythe.
“What?! I never said you didn’t!” She grips her trench coat, realizing her appearance. “I’m not the one who kills you, idiot! I’m just—” Her antennae don’t flick up fast enough as the human lunges, tackles Juby from the front, and stabs her in the back. In the end, the scythe pierces them both.
ns 18.68.41.179da2
