"Reroll, please."

My head snaps up from my forging, the soul I was reshaping falling to the anvil. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me buddy! I want a reroll! The last few times you've sent me down as an ant, and then a turkey, and now a lobster? I'm just not vibing, you feel me?"

What the actual fuck. I peer down at the lobster-shaped soul blob before me and my own hammer marks glow before me, detailing all the times this soul has been reshaped by me. "How in all worlds have you been here ten times in five days?"

"I told you man, the vibes were off, so like I just came back? Not super hard but bro, the judgment line sucks. I tried telling the guy up front that I was a frequent customer and next time he should just fast track me to you but he threw me all the way back and I had to wait through the whole thing again! Anyway I want a reroll! No more lame animals, I wanna go back as a dude with a massive sch-"

"Jesus Christ on a slice of toast, just shut the Hell up for a second! HOW are you retaining your memories? That's the first thing I knock out of you."

The lobster raises its front claws in a strange crustacean shrug. "Dunno. Try it."

I swung my hammer down and smashed the lobster with relish. The cleansing sound echoed across my forge as it was reshaped back into a perfect sphere, clear and unblemished as the day it was created. There was no way that-

"Yeahhhh so that didn't work. Don't mind being a ball though. Ooh, sneak me into the NBA! I wanna meet LeBron!"

I looked at the soul, throwing itself in and out of my trash can and yelling something about "slam dunks". Looked at my hammer. Looked at the two hundred thousand page manual labeled "WHAT TO DO WHEN SOMETHING WEIRD HAPPENS IN THE SOUL REFORGER (NOW WITH MORE PAPERWORK!)". Looked back at the soul. At my hammer. At the growing line of souls needing reforging. I made my decision. Snagged the dumb ball mid dunk out of my trash can and placed it on my anvil and held my hammer over it. Ignoring the feeling that I was making a huge mistake, I asked it:

"How big do you want your schlong?"

“Step forward please. Oh. You again. The boss wants to see you.”

“What…why..?” Lenny stutters.

The attendant doesn’t answer and motions for the next soul to step forward.

Lenny steps aside and anxiously waits for his meeting with the boss. Time seemed to stop while his mind raced about the reasons the boss would want to see lowly little Lenny. None of the possible outcomes seemed favorable.

“Soul #52681087, Human Name Lenny, please step up to the desk.”

Lenny gets up, nearly tripping over his own feet. He walks in the room and sees the boss, Zixx. Zixx is a brutish looking god. And a powerful god as well. Being the God of Reincarnation requires a tremendous amount of strength, not only physical, but mental too.

“Take a seat Lenny.” Zixx says gruffly. “You’ve been back here…47 times more often than other souls that pass through here. Care to explain why?”

Lenny is silent.

Zixx asks again “Lenny, do you care to explain why you’ve been back so often?”

Lenny is still silent, looking down at his feet.

“We have other options of seeing into your soul, but they are rather…unpleasant.” Zixx says.

This causes Lenny to stir slightly, almost looking like he is ready to speak.

“I… I.. just feel this weight on my soul every time I’m reincarnated. It never leaves. It doesn’t matter if I’m a human, an ant, or any other animal, the feeling remains. Nothing makes it go away, so I need to.”

“And how do you do that?” Zixx asks, some concern in his voice.

“When the weight becomes too much, I find a way out. Just depends what creature I am. If I’m an ant, for example, I’ll get myself crushed.” Lenny says.

“Ahh, I see. And this darkness you speak of, can you tell me more about it?”

The way Zixx is asking questions reminds Lenny of when he was a human and tried therapy.

“Does Zixx… care about me?” Lenny wonders to himself. He is almost touched at the thought of a God actually caring about him.

Lenny tells Zixx about his struggles with life. How, no matter who or what he became, he was still alone. For some reason, Lenny was unable to sustain relationships in his life. Whether they be with other wolves in the pack, or friends to go have dinner with, Lenny was alone. Never family to love him nor friends to care for him.

The more Zixx heard, the sadder he became.

“And then I find out not even Hell wants my soul. How do you think that makes me feel? Hell, the worst place in the existence, does not want me..” Lenny says, starting to sob.

Zixx had heard enough.

“Lenny, if you could have the perfect life, what would it look like?”

“Well, I think I’d like to be a cat in a loving home. They are adored by their family and get to enjoy solitude as well.”

“Lenny, I can do this for you if you promise me one thing…. Please give life a fair shot this time, okay?”

Lenny nods.

And with that, Zixx snapped Lenny’s soul into a nice tabby about to go into a loving home.

———

“What should we name him?” The woman asks.

The man pauses, and thinks for a second.

“I’ve always liked the name Lenny.”

Thwack!

The jolt of something falling on my head startles me awake. I look beside me, only to see an apple rolling its way down a shallow hill, into a rolling field of grasses and brilliant flowers. I look up, the branches of a large tree crisscrossing high above me, casting me in a cool shade.

"Greetings, child, we meet yet again." a firm, but soft voice wafts into my ears. I look up to see a figure, clad in white robes with a black sash hanging from its shoulders, holding an outstretched hand to me. I cannot make out the figure's visage; it is as if it's always out of focus, always blurry.

"Glad to be back, old friend." I grab the figure's hand, and they pull me to my feet with great ease."Care for a stroll?" the figure says, as they turn on their heel. The two of us walk together down the hill, taking in the beauty which surrounds us. Clouds like pillows roll high above the plain. As we step out from under the canopy of the tree, the warmth of the sun wraps around me like a blanket.

"This is definitely a break from protocol. Where are we going?" I say to the figure.

"Nowhere in particular. Anywhere our feet take us." We come to a stop in a patch of tall goldenrod, busy bees buzzing back and forth between us, covered in pollen.

"The truth is, I am intrigued by you. We have crossed paths dozens of times, far more than any other poor and misguided soul to pay me a visit." The figure turns to face me, their mysterious visage no more discernable than ever. "Why is that? Why do you refuse to enter the realm of rewards or the realms beyond?"

Moments which feel like hours pass, as I rattle responses 'round my brain. Finally, I choose my careful reply.

"Those places just sound boring," I say. "The idea of a 'forever anything' does not interest me. I love our conversations, and I love being able to always see the world through new eyes, a new lens."

The figure shifts its weight, perhaps uncomfortably, and continues walking. "I'm listening." They say.

"Well, how do I put it..." I mutter, my mind searching for examples. "As a human, life is so colorful. So many emotions, so many experiences, so many memories. But as an eagle, I am so free. Nowhere can hold me down. One time I was an oyster, and it was a peaceful existence. Lots of time to think. I think my favorite incarnation was a mantis shrimp, what lovely colors they can see! The coral reef was absolutely breathtaking... so to speak."

"You never cease to fascinate me, old chap." The figure once again stopped, and turned their face to the sky, now a sea of purples and oranges. "But it seems our time is running out. The sun hangs low. Do you have a preference for your next life?"

We walk in a moment of contemplation, the daylight waning. The sound of buzzing bees gives way to the choruses of grasshoppers, and a sea of blinking lights of light betray the presence of lightning bugs. As we meander back to the base of the large tree, I hold my hand out, and a little firefly lands on the tip of my finger, its hindquarters illuminating my fingernail.

"I think I'd like to give one of these lil' fellas a spin." I say, taking a seat where I first awoke.

"Very well. May we meet again, my friend." And with a wave of their arms, the figure vanished, and my eyelids begin to feel heavy. With a sigh, I leaned my head against the rough bark of the tree, and close my eyes.

“How many times!?”

I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing. Reports don’t lie. Printed, clear as day, in big black letters on bleached white paper were the figures. No matter how hard I squinted over my glasses, the numbers refused to yield and read the same with every passing.

Soul: 301199/YOR.

Heaven application status: Declined

Hell application status: Declined

Iteration No.126 ready for processing.

This soul has passed through here 126 times! How is that even possible? Surely Heaven or Hell would have picked this one up by now. No soul, and I mean none, has ever had to be processed here more than half a dozen times tops. There must be some clerical error. But reports never lie. I had to get to the bottom of this conundrum otherwise the big man upstairs would start asking questions.

“Dennis,” I buzzed over the intercom, “Dennis, get in now, would you?”

A moment later my lanky assistant sheepishly peered through the crack in the door, “You…you wanted to see me, Sir?”

“How is this possible? How come I wasn’t aware of this before now?” I slapped the report back down onto my desk with such fervour poor Dennis almost jumped out of his skin. These interns, so skittish and frail a strong gust of wind could blow them over and send them crying to their mothers.

“I…I…don’t understand, sir.”

“This damn soul! How has it come to pass through here 126 times!”

He stood there, gobsmacked, lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. His stammering was getting us nowhere.

“Is the soul still here?”

Dennis nodded.

“Send it up.”

Dennis nodded and left the room rather sharply, closing the door faster than he had opened it.

A few moments later and Dennis announced the errant soul was waiting outside. I buzzed my intercom, and the soul entered the room. It’s yellow-white wispy form glided across the space between desk and door, hovering several inches above the mottled greying carpet.

“Have a seat.” I gestured to the seat opposite mine in vain as the incorporeal form of a soul would find little use of a solid object. I cleared my throat out of embarrassment and began with proceedings.

“So…it says here,” I wafted the report around for dramatic effect, “that you’ve been through the system once or twice before. 126 times to be exact. I brought you up here to my office to come to an understanding about the reasoning behind your…persistence. Care to enlighten me?” For a few long moments the soul remained silent, gracefully bobbing both above and in the soft cushioned chair.

Then, in a voice little shattering glass and rolling thunder, the soul answered, “I made a promise.”

“A promise?” Not the response I was quite expecting, not to say I had any idea what it would say, “What sort of promise?”

“One that drove me to great lengths to keep.” Yellow-white whisps condensed into thicker clouds of blue and purple signifying great stress upon this soul. Clearly there was something going on that was truly affecting this poor fellow, but it was not being particularly helpful at present. My brow furrowed slightly at this disturbance which seemed to incite some agitation on the soul’s part as it then slowly began to speak once more.

“Many lifetimes ago I was a Human. My name was Jerry, and I had a typical life. Friends that came and went, family that I fell out and made up with countless times, money troubles. You know, all the boring normal stuff. I also had Jane.

Jane and I spent the most wonderful decade together, our love growing with each passing year as our relationship matured into something quite special. We were so deeply in love that I felt sick without her, I couldn’t go more than a day without seeing her face. It was meant to be. We are true soulmates.

Unfortunately, Jane got sick. Very sick. Cancer. Such an awful thing, but Jane was strong. She fought hard. She went to all the chemotherapy sessions, she took the medications they prescribed, she even had a few surgeries to help slow it down. In the end, none of that mattered.

Cancer eventually wore her down and took her from me. In her final moments I made a promise to her. A promise I have kept ever since. I promised that no matter how long it took me, no matter how many lifetimes I needed to search through, I would find her, and we would be together again.”

Despite not being affected by the same emotional conditions as the spirit before me, I could feel the pain radiating from it like the heat from the blazing sun. The poor thing was clearly in a lot of distress, and I had to help in any way I could.

With a start, I rose from behind my desk, snatching up the report and heading for the door. The lost soul watched me as I strode across the room and put on my jacket. As I opened the door, I turned to face the longing spectre and said with haste, “Well, come on then, we’ve got a soul to find.”

The soul leapt up from its chair and followed me through the doorway as we set out to find the long-lost love.

If you liked this, you can read more of my stuff at r/TheHiveWithUdders.

When they first came in, they died during a snowstorm. A lean and fit male at the time. Very healthy and fit for the time. I checked their life out since it was one of my earliest clients. To remember the moment, I took a picture with them. Luckily space and time works differently here so I had a camera with me from his future.

His picture still sits on my desk and I sent him on his way to live a few years after his previous death. Never looked back at him until many years later. This time they died giving child birth. Apparently they came back as a women in their second life. I instantly knew it was them since the client information was on record. She ended up talking a lot more than previous.

"Oh hey! It's you"! She said as she was guided to my office.

"Wait you remember me? That's a first". I said as I wrote down notes in my notebook. My red skull pen sparkled in the soft light. A gift from Death. "So you died bringing life into the world correct"?

"Yea.... I was born small and my hips were terrible for childbirth". She said with a sigh. Leaning back in the chair before looking up at me.

"I see, it says you were 5'3 ft in your folder". I then pulled out some paperwork and began filling it out. "So reincarnation #K264, are you ready to go back to Paris"?

"Ummm... like an date or....." She picks up the pen and signed the paper.

Moments later she disappears with a flash of light as soon as she finished signing. As does every client of mine when they return back to the world.

"Wait what did she say?"

They would come back a total of 24 times after that. Everytime they spent more time talking with me. Eventually I began talking with them as I waited for them to sign the paper. I long lost my sense of time with this job since it doesn't exist in my office. However one time I did set a timer. Not sure if it was correct since it said weeks went by as we talked.

They sparked enough of an interest for me to decide to dig into their files. After doing some research, I notice they were seriously depressed during their lives. I wanted to know more and began digging deeper. Even going through my massive amount of files of other clients to find anyone related to or close friends with them. There was nothing.

Then the possibility that they were trying to reincarnate on purpose came to mind. After pulling some files I noticed that she was almost always never a fit for heaven or hell. Meaning she had to come to me in order to relive their life so they can go either way.

--

"Why don't you just ask them"? Death asked me during one of our tea breaks.

"Thats.... actually really smart. Hopefully I can, they may end up going somewhere else". I said as I sipped my tea. The cup having Chinese designs on it. A gift from one of my clients that did pottery.

"If they are purposefully coming here to reincarnate then they would know". She would stand up and stretch. "Well, I have to get going. There's a war brewing".

--

Some time had pass since then. They had finally returned after a full life for once.

"You died of old age? Thats a first". I said, prepared with a list of questions.

"Yea, nothing crazy happened for once"! They stood up and laughed. Then sat back down holding their back.

"I'm going to get straight to the point. Before we reincarnate you I have some question". I looked down at my notes. "Why do you always end up here to be reincarnated"? I looked up, tapping my pen on the desk.

"Oh that's really simple actually! You still owe me a date"! They said, leaning in close.

[deleted]

I recognize the soul that waits before me. Their last life was peaceful and pleasant, and they’ve still returned for re-placement. Most others have completed all their lessons and moved on to their permanent afterlife by now… But not this one. They’ve barely completed a fraction of what is expected of them. It’s time for me to investigate. I reach into the soul’s memories, reliving their previous death and rebirth for any evidence of their reasoning for needing so many return trips…

The chaotic screech of tires and frantic car horns barely registered as I felt my form make contact with the highway. Almost immediately, I felt myself become weightless. I looked down at my own body, broken and mangled — aptly so, a perfect mirror of my mind — and then up at the scene on the overpass I’d just been thrown off of. The broken concrete barrier remained crumbled, large chunks fallen into the center lane around what used to be my motorcycle, and the front end of the offending truck dangled precariously from the open edge.

Had I lungs to sigh, I surely would. This was neither the first nor the last time I could recall meeting such a grisly end. I felt oddly at peace this time, however: once my past memories had begun to leak back into my mind, I had forsaken the pursuit of love and friendship. After all, it would inevitably end in their grief and misery far too soon, and I always leave with a profound sense of guilt for it. This is my thirteenth death, and I still don’t know how old age feels. I imagine it must feel a lot like this tired weariness.

Suddenly I feel a strong pull, and I am yanked roughly out of this plane of existence. I am surrounded by darkness, and an old familiar voice causes my attention to turn in his direction.

“You again? You still have much to learn; you have no place in the afterlife yet. You will only keep returning to me and being reborn, until you complete your lessons.”

I can feel a smile forming at my core. I move in closer to the figure of Death as the formless orb of my existence takes on a more humanoid shape. I reach up toward his face, enchanted — for the personification of death itself, I have always found his appearance hauntingly beautiful. I cannot bring myself to hold back any longer — this is our auspicious thirteenth meeting, after all.

“I know,” I respond softly. “That is why I keep returning. I don’t care about lessons, or Heaven and Hell, or any of the afterlives I might have chosen from at the end of all this.”

He looks at me strangely, then with a trace of surprise as he reads between the lines of what I’ve just said. His brow furrows in confusion.

“…why? What is it you are after, then?”

I reach up to run my fingers through the lengths of his hair. So beautiful… quiet, soothing, reliable soul that he is…

“Every life I have lived has been one of abuse, hardship, and loneliness. From cat and dog, to caged bird, to human. And in all of these, you are always the one I can count on to never be cruel to me, to never deprive me of anything, and never to abandon me when I need you. In the between times, we’ve had some wonderful conversations — about everything from the cosmos to human philosophy, science to spirituality, and where they meet. I have grown quite fond of these between-times.”

He stands there a moment, silent. I cannot read his expression — he could be repulsed, or moved that someone does not fear him for once, or numb to the entire notion. So, I continue.

“I know I must go through these lessons regardless — so I will continue completing one for each iteration of my life. But only one — as before I am forced to choose my final destination, I want to spend as much time as possible with the one I have come to love so dearly.”

There is a still silence between us for several moments before he pulls me in to embrace me. I hold fast to him, and I can feel the flickering gray of my heart begin to shine golden. Is this… peace?

The golden light at my core grows, until it blinds me entirely. Then, my vision fades. The blackness of my vision begins to break open in a great “x”, and soon the warmth of the sun is seeping into the darkness. I feel…radiant, and joyful. I could sing! I reach for the jubilant warmth of the sun as my swirling petals begin to unfold.

I know I have such a long way to go… but here, surrounded by my brothers and sisters and loved by the bees and the birds, and the human gaze, I am no longer alone, no longer deprived, no longer tormented. I still eagerly await my next between-time with my beloved — but I feel like now I can finally face my lessons with courage, even if I’m in no hurry to do so just yet.

I believe I have seen enough. I open my eyes and look up at the soul in question, brow raised. I take a deep breath in, pinching the bridge of my nose. They don’t exactly train you on what to do in cases like this. Who the hell falls in love with —

“Death! I need to see you, immediately.” I call out. He appears in short order, looking at the soul in clear surprise.

“I imagine you know why you’re both in front of me right now…” I sigh impatiently, tapping against the table in front of me. He nods nervously, and the soul remains cautiously quiet. I can read in the countenance of Death his attitude toward the soul before us who he’s grown so familiar with.

“If I allow you the option of remaining with Death upon graduation, will you stop dawdling and take your assignments seriously from now on? If you haven’t shown significant progress in your next three vessels, you will forfeit that opportunity and be settled apart permanently in the place of my choosing, and it will be most unpleasant. Do you both agree?”

They both perk up and nod in agreement, and I shoo them out without another word. They leave hurriedly, hand-in-hand, and I can’t help but smile to myself. I have a feeling I won’t see them again for a while.

(A Wayfarer gets a job?)

So here I am, sitting behind a rather ordinary desk in a not so ordinary office at the Junction of Souls...where Souls get sent to their next lives. 'Why am I even here?' You may ask. Well, the answer to that won't be what you think. I'm just doing a favor for my friend Zariel. Most deity-level beings know him as the 'God of Reincarnation'.

No joke, he came up to me one day and asked me to cover for him for a couple of weeks. "I need a vacation." were the words that he said. Then again, I did owe him that favor. Plus, the fact that I ripped my own soul out of the Cycle helps too. Guy was pretty mad about that but eventually cooled off.

All in all, a pretty uneventful set of weeks at the post. Some get a second chance, while others...

"My name is Jeb Forest of the South-" Yeah, those like him get the worst reincarnation possible. For fairness, we do eliminate their collected Karma. In case they're nicer in the next life.

But a strange occurrence was a singular soul that seemed to be a repeat customer. "Marcos. Again man?" Luckly, I was told about him beforehand.

"Yeah. I seem to be unlucky."

"There's Unlucky, and then there's problematic.." Seriously. Maybe I should do something about that. Sounds like this guy has a pretty strong curse on his soul...maybe more than his soul is affected.

"You have a point. Wait, you're not Zariel." Oh so he noticed.

"He's on vaction. I'm just filling the shift for a couple more days." Speaking of, time dialation here is kinda screwy. A soul would think that a day passes normally when they get here, right? Well, it doesn't. One normal human day is about 30 - 40 years here.

"Didn't know Gods needed vacations." Most don't.

"He's been doing this since the dawn of time. Pretty sure all primordials are afforded some vacation time." My jobs are far easier and far less messier than most gods. I'm more or less a trans-dimensional mercenary.

"I'm back-" Was all Zariel got out before seeing who I was talking to. "Marcos. Again?" And he seemed annoyed. Talk about a bad return.

"He's cursed." I stated. "In fact-" I activated a special ability of mine and looked at Marcos. What I found kinda made me mad. Just so much evil literally tied to his very being, like a acutal bow tie. And its evil I know too well. "Serval did it."

"That useless prick." Zariel said. Looks like he knew why Jashin did it. Zariel can't get rid of heavy curses tied to the reincarinated soul's being. Looks like Serval forgot what I can do, or the fact that I'm even here. I reached over to Marcos' soul and shattered the evil like it was a glass vase.

"Problem solved. Out of curiosity, why were you cursed anyway?" I asked. There's gotta be a reason for this.

"Well....I met a girl. She introduced herself and said she was Serval's daughter. We went on a few dates and got into something, if you know what I mean." Marcos explained.

"Nice." Zariel and I said. What? A human and a God's daughter falling for one another is good stuff.

"Right, Off you go now. Also, my friend put a protection on your soul. You'll get your memories of back if you meet Serval's daughter again." Zariel said, sending Marcos on to the next life.

"You know: for an Evil God's daughter, she seems to love the idea of 'Together Forever.' "I said. I never met said daughter myself. "But now that you're back, I'ma go pay Serval a visit."

As I was leaving, I heard Zariel say "Have fun!". Oh, it will be...

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