Death, Selection, and Kittens

I lived quietly and didn’t bother anyone—I patrolled the cemetery, fed the cats, and took odd jobs in my field whenever I had free time.

But one not-so-pleasant day, one furry face let me down, and I ended up…at a selection. Right from the cemetery and the tender embraces of ghouls—into the royal brides’ contest. I laughed at first—Death’s priestess at the selection, under the patronage of Love. But the Merciful one confirmed: “You wanted time off—so enjoy it.”

The idea wasn’t bad: nobody has to be put to rest, there are no night shifts, they feed you delicacies, dress you beautifully—and, of course, you can enjoy the sufferings of the other selected ones as entertainment. And then trouble happened, and I realized…

Why are you treating me like this, my Merciful Lady of Death? This isn’t time off anymore—it’s a real business trip.