[ WP ] Immortality has been achieved , but overpopulation is a problem . To solve this , society has created a new job field : `` Angels of Death '' , people who 's job it is to simulate a natural death rate by killing a certain quota of random people a day . You are one of these `` Angels '' .

Infinity, what a funny thing. 
 
 I stretch back in my chair, bumping the table and spilling my coffee. “ Christ, ” I breathe. 
 
 Ha, Christ. I think about the hundreds of years ago and the wars fought over religion and the almighty God humans obsessed over while'inferior' humans obsessed over another. The flying spaghetti monster did n't take off as well as I had hoped. 
 
 I watch the buzz of life around me, and the pairs of people living. Living… what an easy thing to do now. See, dying used to be the easy part. We all knew it was coming eventually and living a life being proud of was the hard part. It ’ s been hundreds of years since natural death has occurred- that ’ s where I come into play. 
 
 My name is Gage, you see it was originally Gabrielle but what a sick joke. My purpose is to kill randomly, but peacefully. Since immortality, over-population has sky-rocketed. The nice thing is the overall population has slowly stopped reproducing, but there is a giant mess we still have to fix. 
 
 We ’ ve preserved the authenticity of the world, refusing to further technology and easiness. Keep things a little interesting I suppose. 
 
 The waitress puts a new cup of coffee on my table and I look in her eyes. Her soul is a soft purple and it ’ s been years since I ’ ve seen purple. I touch her hand and smile, allowing her blush to cover her face. I lean forward and pick up my coffee and sip on it watching her walk back into the café. 
 
 A few moments later she collapses accompanied by the screams that are heard from inside. I pick up my black jacket- appropriate huh? - and walk off the patio. I hold my gloves in one hand, allowing my other to trail in the wind next to me. 
 
 A blonde male running brushes against my hand; he doesn ’ t make it around the street corner. A begger clutches my wrist to plead for change, so I stand and watch the orange of her soul seep out. Sometimes, the souls are terrified to leave their immortal bodies. Dying has become the hard part, never believing it is going to be reached. Her soul twirls and sways in the air above her motionless body and she swarms me in happiness before disappearing. 
 
 My days are lonely, other Death Angels typically don ’ t socialize with each other… it is honestly just depressing. I walk through the stone road streets, putting my gloves back on my hands. I used to fear touching anyone, crying for days over the bodies I left motionless. 
 
 Numbness is a good word, but it doesn ’ t quite encompass it all. Most souls run from me when they realize who I am, others run to me. I grab my notebook out of my back pocket, journaling the colors of the souls I watched escape today. 
 
 I stop in the middle of the cobblestone alleyway, flipping through my notebook. Hundreds of oranges, hundreds of reds, yellows, and greens. Very few purples, very few. 
 
 Blue? Anywhere? 
 
 I turn into the town square, ripping off my gloves and trailing my hands along others. I watch the green and brown eyes close, oranges and yellows floating into the air. 
 
 Humans start screaming and running away from me, trying to clutch onto their immortality for a few moments longer- others walk peacefully to me. Greens and few isolated purple souls rise. 
 
 Blue? 
 
 The town square is empty, my hair barely long enough to blow in the breeze now able to flow through. I look at the beautiful silent bodies around me and sigh. I write the colors in my notebook and suddenly feel watched. 
 
 I look up across the square and see a girl sitting on steps. She slowly stands, brushing off her black jeans and begins walking towards me. Her blonde hair being blown to the side covering part of her face and creating a curtain behind her. She walks up to me, looking at the bodies around me. I reach for the gloves in my back pocket, instead she grabs my hand. 
 
 Her blue eyes pierce me as she smiles, her soul staying intact with her electric body.
