The Coin

It was a noisy evening in a pub; everyone was sitting in small or large groups, celebrating the fact that they had found a moment to see each other. Beside the counter, there was a young man watching some locals with an explicit concern on his face, and tossing a coin in his hand. From time to time, he looked at his watch and a tablet in front of him.

He tossed a coin once again. It was beautiful and ancient, made of pure gold, engraved with letters few people could even read, let alone comprehend. Not just a coin, some may call it an artifact. He received it a long time ago and valued its rarity. He knew that today he might lose it, but it was a gamble he was willing to make.

His frustration and anxiety seemed to grow with every minute, until a man showed up at the doorstep, hit him on the shoulder, and sat next to him.

"Brian!" The man shouted. "Haven't seen you in ages! Why haven't you ordered yourself a beer yet?""Glad to see you, Greg! Didn't want to start without you."

Brian smiled; he was clearly relieved when his friend finally showed. Everything was going according to plan. Greg ordered a couple of pints, clinked glasses, and took a sip. His face showed a little pain, and he scratched his chest.

"You sure it's okay to drink right now?" Asked Brian. His glass was still full.

"Yeah, it's just a little wound, nothing serious." Brian's face became grim for a moment, but it didn't last long.

"Don't worry about me, friend, tell me something new about yourself. How's life, how's job, how's everything?"

"Well, I'm still kinda new on my job, but I like it." He once again stared at a group of people in a corner booth for a couple of seconds. "Actually, I'm working on one mystery; I suppose you'd be interested in it."

Brian handed Greg his tablet with a document open.

"Well, that's a rare way of reconnecting with friends." Greg laughed and looked at a document on the tablet. It was a detective's report on a murder case. "Wait, are you a cop?!"

"No, just read their cases from time to time. Check witness statements."

Greg began reading. "Pete started it; he suddenly beat Alex on the head, and it just went on. No idea whose knife was that, sorry. "Well, that scumbag should not have talked about my wife! What knife? I was talking 'bout Alex! I didn't stab no one!"; "Not sure what happened, we got into a little fight, and he suddenly just fell with a knife in his chest. It wasn't me, I swear!"; "Those guys just started fighting out of nowhere, they seemed to have a friendly chat actually. Can't believe that guy died."

"Well, seems shady but kinda expected, to be honest. No one wanted to snitch or admit anything. What's so interesting about that?"

"Take a look."

Brian pointed towards a group on the corner bench. Five men, one facing the wall, all having a friendly chat, except one. He didn't seem interested in talking to others, and his glass was still full. His attire was quite odd: a white full-body suit and a white hat. He looked a little like a stereotypical evil plantation owner from the nineteenth century.

"You see, fingerprints on the knife were not consistent with any of the victim's friends. Besides, that was an expensive knife with engravings on steel and a leather handle, which doesn't seem like any of those drunkards could buy something like that. That should indicate that there was someone else, correct?" Greg nodded, but Brian was not looking at him.

"Well, nobody could remember anyone except those four. In that case," Brian pointed at the man in a white suit, "Who's that?"

As Brian finished his sentence, the mysterious man smiled widely and stuck a guy next to him. Before anyone could even comprehend what happened, with incredible dexterity, the man jumped on the table, rushed towards the guy facing the wall, dropped him on the floor, and put a knife in his heart.

"Oh my god! Call an ambulance!" Greg shouted.

"No need."

Brian snapped his fingers, and time completely froze. All the customers, the victim's friends, his murderer, and even the beer someone dropped in surprise. Everything froze exactly where it was. Except for Brian and Greg.

Greg watched in horror as Brian calmly took his tablet in one hand and left his stool. He tossed the coin far in the air, caught it, and put it in his pocket. He opened another application on a tablet and looked at his friend.

"The circumstances of your death commit me." He said with a grim face.

Greg stood there in shock, hoping his old friend would give some explanation, but received none. He reached for his arm, trying to feel for a pulse. There wasn't any. He started feeling it was harder to breathe, but soon realized he wasn't breathing at all. He wanted to ask why he was dead, but it was not necessary. In slow steps, Greg approached the murder scene. It was him on the floor, with a knife in his chest. Not just a knife. It was the knife from that detective's report.

"Who are you?" Greg asked finally. "Are you the Grim Reaper?"

"You can say so. One of my colleagues tried dressing as her, but most people panicked."

"How is that even possible?" Greg shouted in disbelief. "I knew you my whole life!"

"Not exactly." Brian came closer and gestured to Greg to wait a little as he tried looking his murderer in the face. He shook his head in disappointment and then continued. "You see, most modern people have some friends they did not meet personally for a while. That's how we work now, usually feels more personal."

"Doesn't feel too personal to be honest."

Brian once again gestured for Greg to wait, pressed several buttons on his tablet, and once again looked the murderer in the face.

"Are you trying to find my murderer?"

"I do. Do you remember when I said that no one remembers who killed you?"

"Well, he seems like someone who is quite easy to remember."

"Exactly. Yet, there is a problem."

Brian took the murderer's head and put it a little higher so that Greg could also see that. His face was just a dark circle, as if he were a mannequin.

"Wow." Greg recoiled a little, but put himself together quickly. "Is that okay?"

"Not at all."

Brian once again pushed something on a tablet. Murderer's face became pixilated for a moment, but reverted to being nothing immediately. He exhaled and pressed something else.

"That's going to hurt," Brian said exactly a moment before Greg grabbed his head and almost collapsed in pain. "Got you!"

Murderer's face suddenly became real, and Brian quickly took a photo. He inserted it into an empty field in his application, looked at Greg, who was still in agony, and pressed a button, after which Greg's pain immediately stopped.

"What the **** did you just do?!" Greg shouted. "Aren't you supposed to ****ing help me with fucking afterlife, or are you here to torture me?!"

"You weren't killed by a human, Greg."

This statement immediately calmed him.

"W-What?"

"No one remembers him, because he doesn't exist in the way live beings exist. He is one of us."

"I... I was killed by Death itself? How? Why? What did it want?"

Brian knew the answer and knew better not to tell it. An immortal celestial being killed a human in broad daylight. It wasn’t a politician, a rich businessman, or anyone powerful. A random drunkard in a bar, who didn’t really have anything behind him. That could only mean one thing — this mystery man, whoever he was, wanted to draw the attention of someone like him. Someone like Brian. He most certainly succeeded in it, and Brian won’t let it slide. It might be a gamble, but he will take it and find this man.

"That's a good question." Brian once again started searching for something on his tablet. "You didn't exactly have anything that someone like him would want. No offence."

"That's...." Greg paused for several seconds. "I don't even know how to think about it."

"Don't bother, I'll take it from here."

Brian took the coin out of his pocket, smiled, and tossed it to Greg.

"That's for your cooperation. This coin will help you in your afterlife. Don't lose it."

As Brian said that, he snapped his fingers once again, and a door behind the counter opened. There was no kitchen or street behind it. There was a pathway that seemed to be surrounded by a void.

"Let's go. I have much to tell you."

The two came closer to the door. As Greg looked at a void, and on his new coin, he hesitated to step forward.

"Did I live a good life?" He asked

"Not bad, honestly. Considering you died in a bar fight, I would say that it was great."

Greg laughed a bit and took his first step into his new afterlife, alongside his guide.

"Is Brian your real name?"

"No, I'm Archibald. Don't look so surprised, I'm just kind of young."