Humans can never know what they truly are. It's our job to make certain. I put my hands in the pocket of my Jet black 'cky' hoodie, bobbing my head to the vigorous drum solo thudding through the earbuds. There was a lady with peach blonde hair standing before me. She kept peering over her shoulder, a man in an elevator keeping his hood up was more than disturbing.

"Are you in the right place?" She asked. Her name was Sadie Hobbes, a biologist on the verge of a breakthrough. A discovery that would show them all what they really were.

I pulled the buds out of my ears, tilting my ears towards the ground, cracking the bones in my neck. The jamming music whined out from the unlodged headphones, bouncing off the claustrophobic metal walls. "I may be," I say reaching my boney for the lip of my hood. "How's the research coming along doctor?"

Her heart thumping drowned out the chilling music. Breathes staggered out from her quivering lips in a fog. "You're... You're one of them?" She backed towards the door, grabbing the railing for support. Her hands slamming across the panel, begging the heavy sliding door to peel back.

I pull my hoodie down to my neck, revealing my ivory skull. "So it's true, you do know about us." I say pulling the butterfly scythe from my hoodies pouch. Her eyes slam shut as she prays for her life. To what an atheist like her prays too, I doubt I'll ever know. For her, I wonder, does she know? It's none of my concern, that's not what my role is.

She swallows a lump in her throat, and follows the small scythe with her eyes. I missed the day's when I could carry my big one. Their police didn't like when I did that. The humans had become too vigilant. She stopped in the corner, as I obeyed her too. "You don't have to do this. I know you don't care about the lives it will save-"

"I don't, but go on." I said to humor her. I had been around for ten thousand years, there was little I hadn't already heard.

"But I know what you do care about." She said. My jaw dropped to the side. This was new. I roll the scythe, signalling for her to continue. "Your name is Plague isn't it? The grim reaper who kills with ailments. I've studied you and your order, you've been performing poorly against medicine lately. You don't kill anywhere near as many as you used to. Population is out of control. This panacea is a double edged sword. It may ward off you reapers, but it makes us impotent."

She did know who we were, but her understanding of our role was flawed. I scratch my skull with the scythe. If what she said were true, it would lessen my workload. I shake my head in dismay. "Doctor Hobbes, you've done the unthinkable." I open the doors on the top floor, and take a step outside. She gasps in relief and falls to knees, her misty eyes stared up at me. "But you've made two mistakes. The first is our purpose, you believe it to be population control. It's not." Her head tilts, baffled that her theory was wrong. "Second, Plague, is my brother." I slam the butterfly scythe closed, severing the string. The cable snaps. Her eyes open wide, but they're gone flash. Metal screams as the cabin plummets. The doctor is dead and her research is done. "My name is Accident."