[ WP ] Write a story with the grim reaper/angel of death ( a position that can be passed on ) as the protagonist .

( Well, here's my first go at this, hope y'all enjoy it. Sorry about how short it is ) 
 
 The street I passed on by every day of my life was the same. Except for that day. The smell of blood overwhelming the air with dismay as I watched on hopelessly - My clean cut suit, purely black and white, offered contrast to the rest of the street. The officers dull as the stained road went about their business, jotting down trivial details which would n't change anything. Paramedics rushed about a lone man, who was laying cold beside the van, a soul that was yet to be harvested. 
 
 Of course, that was my job. My bleak existence up here felt like an eternity - day in, day out, I watched over the deaths - guiding the lost souls to the beyond. I guess it was worth it, you see some familiar faces every now and then, to say the least. Though to be fair, I did n't have a choice in this matter. 
 
 With a small gulp, I stared at the limp, bloodied body. It was once called James Thompson. He was only 22 - No siblings, single, and lived only with his mother. His file said he'd be half decent as the harvester. The paramedics struggled to bring the body back to life, but I had read his file. It was his time. The scene slowly stopped as I approached the youthful man, kneeling down to him - In return I was gifted a face of anxiety, of an animal knowing it wo n't make it. It reminded me of my death. It was n't pleasant. Traffic incident, instantaneous death and all of that. 
 
 The once James Thompson looked up soullessly, as if knowing what would happen. With a lump in my throat, I hopelessly stared down at him, knowing the words that would echo in his life. That echo'd in mine. 
 
 `` My name is James Thompson. Welcome to my Hell.''
