sepulcher
[sep-uh l-ker]
1. a tomb, grave, or burial place.
2. Also called Easter sepulcher. Ecclesiastical.
- a cavity in a mensa for containing relics of martyrs.
- a structure or a recess in some old churches in which the Eucharist was deposited with due ceremonies on Good Friday and taken out at Easter in commemoration of Christ's entombment and Resurrection.
3. to place in a sepulcher; bury.
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Greg Thompson
1985-2018
Greg stared at the carved words. That was it? That was the sum total of his life? 33 years and all it came down to was two small lines on a rock. Not even a nice one either. It was made of cheap stone, and the stonework was mediocre at best, sloppy at worst. He wanted to complain, but he had no idea who to complain to. Was there a complaints department somewhere?
Maybe he could try haunting his parents? No, that probably would not work. They would either be completely oblivious of try and find a way to cash in on it. Besides, he was not even sure how to haunt someone.
“Ouch. That’s rough.”
If Greg still had skin, he would have jumped out of it. One does not expect to hear other voices in the afterlife, after all. He quickly turned to see who had spoken. THe man reminded his of something he had seen on the internet a few years ago. He was tall and skinny, with pale skin and a crisp, clean suit. His face was friendly enough though, as long as you could get around the eyes that looked more like black marbles than actual eyeballs.
“You don’t see such a simple gravestone too often anymore. Well, I guess the really cheap or really poor families that get those little flat ones, but never a standing stone. Those usually get a bit more.”
“Who...who are you?” Greg asked.
“Oh, right. How rude of me. My name’s Phil. I’ll be your Reaper.”
“Reaper? You mean, like, the Grim Reaper?”
“Yes and no.” Phil said slowly. “Grim is the head Reaper. He gets all the attention just because he’s been around the longest, but he’s not the only one. I mean, did you really think one person could oversee all the deaths in the universe?”
“I didn’t really think death was a person.”
“Not person, people. There’s a lot of us.”
“Well, good to know you won’t be overwhelmed, I guess.” Greg really had no idea what else to say. What was he supposed to think?
“Yeah, well, it depends on the jurisdiction and time period and all that. I’m just glad I wasn’t assigned to England during the Black Plague. Talk about paperwork.” Phil shuddered at the very thought.
“So, uh, what happens now? Do you, like, guide me to the afterlife?”
“Eventually, yes. Right now, no. See, every spirit needs some time to acclimate to being, you know, dead, before they can properly move on. If I took you right now, there’s be all kinds of problems later down the road. So yeah, I’ll be taking you there in a few years once you’re good and ready to move on. Right now though, I’m here to give you a few basics. Just the basics though. You’ll have to learn the details later. And don’t complain about it, it’s part of the acclimation process. Everyone goes through it.”
Greg closed his mouth. Phil had obviously done this a lot, seeing as he was able to anticipate what Greg had been about to say. Phil kept going, undaunted.
“So, yeah, obviously, you’re dead. I know it’s obvious, but I still have to say it. You’d be real surprised how many people are in denial about it. So yeah, dead and buried and all that. Now, for the next year or so, you won’t be able to move very far from your body, which is currently about...oh, four and a half feet…” Phil paused. “Wow, your family must not’ve liked you very much if they couldn’t even get the full six.”
“They probably just couldn’t be bothered to shell out the cash. Honestly, I’m surprised they got as deep as they did. I was thinking they’d just throw me in the woods and let the animals take care of it, just because it’s the cheapest thing.”
“Ah. Penny pinchers.”
“Cheapskates.”
“RIght, well, at the very least, there’s a very slim upside. A new spirit can only move ten feet away from the body. SInce yours is closer to the surface, you’ll have a bit more lateral movement than most. So, good for you.”
Greg was less happy. He was not surprised by his family’s lack of respect, but neither was he thrilled by it. His thoughts almost distracted him from what Phil was telling him. Mostly things about how he was not able to interact with the physical world, and what he needed to do to move on and all that. Greg barely registered any of it. Phil seemed like a nice enough guy, but the material he was covering was dry as a bone, even with the Reaper trying to dress it up a bit.
“Okay, and that’s all you need to know for now.” Phil said after far too long. “Sorry I couldn’t give you any real details, but like I said, discovery is part of the point.”
“That was without the details?”
“I know, I know. Long, tedious, and boring. It sucks even more for me, since I have to say it so many times. But regulations and all that.”
Greg nodded in understanding. Even in the afterlife, bureaucracy was alive and well. Apparently death and taxes were not the only things that were certain.
“So, any questions?” Phil asked.
“Lots. But can you actually answer them?”
Phil opened his mouth wide, but closed it soon after. He mulled over Greg’s question for a moment before replying.
“In all likelihood no. There are a few I can probably answer, but the usual questions are no goes.”
“Because I have to find out on my own, right?”
“Bingo.”
Greg sighed. Most of what Phil had told him was fairly useless for daily life. Or death. Daily afterlife? He would think about that later. Either way, Phil’s speech was only mildly useful, and most of what he wanted to ask would probably go unanswered.
“In that case, no, I’m good.”
“In that case, I’ll be seeing you. I’ve got a lot of graveyards to visit today. I’ll say one thing about being a Reaper, it’s got great job security.”
And with that, Phil was gone. Greg stood there in the middle of the graveyard that was his home and asked himself the one question that seemed most important:
“Okay, now what?”
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Okay, I admit I'm cheating a little bit with this one. I had already written the first few paragraphs a while back. I was intending to do something more, but never did until just now. I wonder if that means I have to keep going...
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