Several days pass in the same fashion. I judge people's souls, but none are that remarkable. After the first two, it's like I've become numb to everything. Even the deepest secrets cannot penetrate the fog around my mind. Death and I work in tandem, and he says I am doing good work, but I don't even know what that means anymore.
    It's exhausting to keep seeing the good things in people, especially in those who don't have much goodness to give. Every day, while I wordlessly weigh people's lives, I can't help but feel that what I'm doing–having the ability to punish or reward–is worse than anything they have done. No matter what, I cannot get that one "evil" one out of my mind. Something is stirring in me, a nagging sensation that Death holds more than meets the eye.
    The one day after work, Death approaches me, and I sense even before he speaks that something is different from all the other days so far. He holds out a tiny black ball on a chain. "This will allow you to access anywhere in Death. You have proven your worth to me, and I don't want you to feel like a prisoner."
    "Thank you." I accept it and drape it around my neck. It is surprisingly heavy, and the tiny silver flecks scattered throughout it make me think that I am carrying the weight of a million souls. He leaves, to do what I have no idea, and something tells me I don't want to know what Death does in his free time. I look up at the sky to check the time before nightfall, and I see it is only about the fifth hour in the evening, right about dinner time–if dinner time existed down here. That's another strange thing about being dead–there's no food.
    I take my first steps outside the palace. I decide not to take action on the crazy plan that has been brewing since the first day, preferring to build up more trust. Instead, I walk around the palace. I discover that the massive structure sits on a cliff jutting up from the middle of the land. The cliff is surrounded by grasslands where the people will gather for their judging. Just beyond that, I can see small houses dotting the land on every side, spreading out as far as the eye can see. These are where the average people reside–those who weren't evil enough to be banished far away, but those who also weren't good enough to achieve paradise. Since I can't see anymore and I'm not feeling brave enough to venture down there yet, I return inside and head to the library.
    It's amazing how many books Death has. As I browse, I see history books, dictionaries, even fiction books that I read during my life. The collection is extensive, something I will absolutely be delving into sometime later. But not tonight. Tonight, I'm on a mission. After several minutes of confused searching, I finally figure out the organization system. I pull down a book of maps and begin discovering Death. As I suspected, the average people are in the immediate vicinity. Beyond that, Death is split into two halves. To the East, paradise, and West, hell.
    I flip further in the book and find a page that details the "evil" side of death. As I imagined, it is difficult to get there. I can see that the only way in is across a tiny bridge spanning a cavern. Cross-referencing this with an encyclopedia I found on Death, I learn that a flaming winged being guards the bridge. The only way through is through him. I finger the necklace Death gave me. I pull it off and look closer at the words inscribed on it. With a shudder, I read "heir of death." That can't be good, but if it really does give me a pass to go anywhere in Death including hell, then I'll accept it for now. I can deal with the consequences later.
    I note the different features and stand up to stretch. I turn and see Death in the doorway, watching me. He walks in and picks up the book. Fortunately, I closed it when I stood up, so he doesn't see exactly what I was reading about.
    "Familiarizing yourself with your new home, I see?"
    "Yeah... I thought it would make it easier to understand where I'm sending people." If Death notices my hesitation or my lie, he doesn't let on.
    "That's good," he says. "A true leader always looks out for her subjects." I choose to ignore yet another ominous reference to me having some sort of power here. I don't want to think about what my position means. He thumbs through the book slowly, as if reminiscing about different people. Is it just my imagination, or does he linger just a bit longer on the page dedicated to hell? I'm going to choose to write that off as a coincidence too, since he hasn't said anything to me.
    Death closes the book with a thud and looks up at me. "Well, it's time for sleep. You'll have plenty of time to read all this library holds on other days. I promise you, any information you wish to discover is here." He hands the book back to me. I take my time returning it to the shelf. I'm scared of what my dreams are going to hold tonight. As I take one last glance around the library, I notice that the library has a book about each person that has ever come through it.
    With this in mind, I go to bed. As sleep begins to claim me, I notice an interesting fact. I seem to be the only one in this palace besides Death, but surely there have to be more "gifts" than just me. I make a mental note to research this in the library tomorrow, and if that fails, to ask Death. The darkness covers me then, and I sleep, borne away with new information.
    Mercifully, I do not dream, or if I do, I don't remember my dreams. No one from the world of the living haunts me today. In fact, their faces slide easily from my mind. I am far more concerned with what's happening here and now.
    The day passes as usual. Before heading off to my work, I go to the library and select three books that I think will be of interest. After that, I take my now-familiar place next to Death in judging people's souls. I try to note each name as it passes, and try to think about where I'm sending them, but it's hard. With this job, it is so easy to become mindless and soulless yourself. It isn't until the day is almost over that I am truly able to break myself from the fog around me. It isn't until I look up and see someone I knew standing before me.
    It is a distant relative, the person before me is my Great-Aunt Elizabeth, who I only met a couple of times, but still. To see someone who used to be part of your Life suddenly come crashing into your Death is shocking. It makes the job far more personal than it should be. If there's one thing I've learned throughout my mindless days, it is that attachment will kill you too.
    Do I really have to sentence her? To see her life played out before me? A life that will likely contain at least one memory of me? I don't know if I can do it. You must. I hear a voice in my head commanding me, and I see Death has an impatient stare on his face. I put aside what I'm feeling and begin the words that will draw forth her goodness. Only it doesn't come.
    Death is looking at me with anger now. I pretend I don't notice and I try again, knowing my nerves must have made me make a mistake. Only nothing happens again. I panic now, almost shouting the words, but Death holds up his hand and the words are ripped from my throat. He stands up from his throne and holds his staff out to my great-aunt, shouting words of his own. Now, something comes out, but not in gentle wisps as it usually does. Everything flows out of her in a rush. She is screaming, holding her hand to her heart and sinking down. What have I done? By not being able to see her goodness, have I condemned her forever? The rush flows into the raven on his staff, and he comes alive.
    I have to stand there and watch while it flies off the staff toward her. I try to look away, I need to look away, but I cannot. I am rooted down and my eyes will not shut. I can only stand there and wordlessly cry out as the raven attacks her brutally, tearing her heart out of her chest. Death holds it aloft, still dripping with blood, as a type of evil trophy. And with a flick of his wrist, the woman before me who would serve me lemonade and cookies in summer, the one who would always knit matching sweaters for me and my teddy bears, becomes a tiny wisp of air and disappears forever.
    As soon as she is gone, I can move again. Death moves toward me. His hands are clenched tightly and veins stick out of his forehead. He comes closer, and I back up, until I come up against the cliff. Death leans in and whispers. "This is what happens when you aren't here. This is what Death truly means. Now do you see why you have to do your job? Do you see now why Death is such a horror? Without you, everyone suffers. Choose wisely."
    And with that, he turns and walks away. I can feel the anger radiating off him even when he is out of sight. I sit there on the edge of the cliff for what seems like forever, and then I know what I must do. I don't care what Death says. Now, I have all the proof I need. It's time for me to get answers.