Is That Santa?

"Hannah! When are you going to visit us? Staying cooped up in that apartment...how will you ever get married?" Stated a slightly incensed, feminine voice from the other end of the line. Hannah had shoulder-length brown hair and chestnut-brown eyes with dark circles beneath them, indications of her ailing health.

The 29-year-old homebody pursed her lips as she digested the barrage of lectures that her mother was vehemently hurling at her. The girl's grip tightened on the phone.

"Hannah. It's Christmas and the whole family is convening to celebrate together. Your cousins will be there and so will your brothers..." Her mother's voice lowered, making Hannah pause her other hand which was flying over her laptop's keyboard, playing a video game.

She swallowed the chewed pizza in her mouth, the hot yet juicy taste melting on her taste buds like chocolate and leaving her red lips smudged with cheese.

"Okay. I'll come," the affirmation escaped her cheese-smudged lips. She was keeping her sleep-deprived, brown eyes on the glowing screen where green-faced, humanoid monsters were assaulting her game avatar. She pressed one pale finger against her phone screen, hanging up on her mother, before shoving all her attention on the game before her.

[Holy—! They're going to kill us! Were zombies always this aggressive? Ah, damn!]

She stifled a sigh, at her teammate's exclamation.

[At least I get to be eaten by a hot lady zombie, hehe—uh, I'm dead...]

"You wouldn't have died, if you hadn't tried to grope the zombie, you retard," Hannah thought, rolling her eyes, as she manouvered her avatar to her remaining two teammates.

[Please concentrate on the fight! FlameZ, cover me!!]

[Why does it look like they're getting reinforcements? Can zombies do that?]

Hannah clicked her tongue as her avatar, a muscular dark knight, waved his gigantic sword swiftly through the air, mauling away at least ten green-faced zombies. Her in-game name "FlameZ" glimmered beside the half-filled health bar. Still, even as she eliminated dozens of those monsters, more just popped out of every corner and sewer hole like moths attracted to a flame.

Her slender fingers flew even faster over the keyboard, slicing the undead into bloody, unrecognizable pieces of flesh. Her comrades, however, were falling like flies, leaving behind them last words like:

[FlameZ! I'm dying! Please save a hot zombie lady for me!]

[Ah!!! I shan't lose my chance with a zombie hottie!!! —uh, crap, I'm dying.]

She smiled as her game avatar sliced its way through mountains of the undead to finally ascend a hill of garbage. At the hill's zenith, she encountered her goal. It was a brilliant purple flag that waved proudly in the air. She grasped the flag, ignorant of the zombies who wailed as they snaked up the hill.

Immediately her avatar had the flag in its firm hold, the apocalyptic world was engulfed in golden light. The zombies disappeared in that light and several notifications appeared on her laptop's screen:

[Congratulations, FlameZ! You've cleared all stages of the game and are now recognized as a bonafide "Zombie Slayer"! With your bloodstained sword, you vanquished the curse that had wrought this country! The citizens will eternally praise you and remember you!]

[500 million coins have been credited to your account. These coins can be used across all other games! Congratulations once again!]

[You've received an additional 100 million coins for being the first in history to have cleared this game!]

A smile appeared on the girl's haggard face which appeared pale and bloodless like that of the zombies in the game due to the lack of light in the room.

A cheese-smudged smile tugged at the corners of her cherry-red lips as she stretched her tired limbs, relaxing into her large, black seat. Hannah was considered obese, weighing a steady 200 lbs and possibly counting. Nonetheless, she had proved through years of being a regular at fast-food restaurants that she was indifferent to matters of her health.

She glanced at the time in the corner of the glowing screen.

7:45 AM.

"It's already morning, eh? That means...it took me 12 hours and 45 minutes as well as my entire team to finally beat this damn game," she muttered dazedly, her lips still smudged with cheese(which was now dripping over her collar), and pulled her hoodie over her head of messy brown hair. Standing upright, she felt unsteady on her feet which had been plastered to the floor for more than twelve hours.

She felt a bit dizzy and shook her head.

Her stomach released a grumble, reminding her that she had only been surviving on musty pizza slices.

"I guess I'll pick up something to eat on my way to mum's place," she said to herself as she strode to the door, her feet pushing aside the hills of garbage that decorated the floor of her dark apartment. Opening the door was like allowing the first figments of sunlight after a nightmare-filled night.

The light from the sun harshly struck the girl's irises, making her squint her eyes and pull down her black hoodie.

She shuffled into the street, keeping her eyes on the damp pavement and her dark sneakers. People shoved past her, with disgusted eyes sweeping over her now and then. They were moving this way and that beneath the gloomy sky.

The grey firmament rumbled, doom-bearing storm clouds fusing, like embroidery nearing its completion. The dark clouds interlaced with lilac-tinted white light often flashing amidst claps of thunder.

In the mortal world that was dotted with skyscrapers and vehicles, umbrellas popped up like mushrooms of varying colours. As the heavy downpour began in earnest, Hannah hung her head low, feeling the icy droplets dripping onto her hoodie and soaking the cheap fabric, making it stick to her pale skin. So to speak, she indeed felt like a pig being led to the slaughterhouse while bravely facing the ice-cold rain.

Wet strands of hair stuck to her forehead as she quickened her steps. She raised her head, gazing at the people who were running past her on the pavement. The world was now tinged stale-grey as the rain bucketed down upon the streets, the pavements, and the people.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, the vibration distinct against her thigh. She paused beside the main road, awaiting the traffic light to turn red so that she could cross the road and reach the bus top.

She picked up the phone and her dark eyes landed on the name "Mum" that gleamed on the screen. She answered the call, her voice raspy: "Hey, mum." Though she addressed the lady so affectionately, Hannah had eluded any meetings with her family for three years.

"Yes, Hannah? Are you on your way? Your little sister wants to speak to you. It's been a while since you both chatted, hasn't it?" Her mother said, her voice sweeter than before, making Hannah's gloomy face soften slightly.

"A while, huh? It's been three years," Hannah thought amusedly to herself. The rain was still soaking her hoodie and jeans, the water snaking past her neck and collarbone, making the girl shiver.

Hannah's gaze flickered as the green traffic light turned red and the vehicles on the damp asphalt screeched to a grinding halt for the pedestrians to cross the road.

With her phone pressed to her right ear, Hannah plodded along the white lines on the dark, damp asphalt, her steps continuous and resonant against the puddles of water. She was the only pedestrian. "Uh, yeah, mum. I'm on my way," she replied to her mother, her eyes on the saturated ground. Some shower of relief coated her nerves when she safely crossed the road.

"Ah, that's splendid! I'll put Marie on the phone now, okay? Marie! Come speak to your big sister!" Her mother's voice sounded in her ears and a part of Hannah's heart warmed as though exposed to sunlight as a crisp, childish voice resounded from the phone. However, before she could even utter a syllable, blinding white light filled her vision as a white truck tumbled towards her from the road, having veered off the tarmac.

Shocked, she could simultaneously hear her beloved little sister's voice in her ears: "Sis! When are you going to arrive? There are chocolate chip cookies here, you know? They're your favorite, aren't they?"

At that moment, she couldn't come to terms with the fact that she would never get to taste those cookies, leave alone see her family for the first time in three years.

The fact remained that her bones were being crushed by the truck as it collided with her frozen body and the pain was delivered to her nerves in slow motion. The icy taste of death was colder than even the rain that had soaked her to the skin.

Her shaky scream was swallowed by the sound of the rain pattering against the already wet streets. The sounds of people's shouts were swallowed by the pain shooting through her system as a pool of blood formed beneath her body, warming her body which, in contrast, was rapidly losing warmth and life.

Her shaky breath was the only thing that she could hear, the sound of rain fading into mere background noise. The earth-shattering claps of thunder seemed to quieten as Marie's sweet voice escaped from her phone(surprisingly not broken, though the screen was shattered):

"Sis? Are you there?"

Hannah's shaky breath faded as the line went dead.

* * *

'I've died,' Hannah thought, solemnly gazing at the nothingness around her. A smiling old lady was sitting before her in the nothingness. The old lady sat on a simple sisal mat and she was dressed in a beige apron and a snow-white dress.

"Hello. Indeed, you are dead. How do you feel, having died once?" said the old lady, her smile causing her wrinkles to lengthen over her face.

Hannah looked at the lady quietly and sighed. "Are you a god?" She asked with a helpless look on her face.

The old lady smirked and unexpectedly turned into a young boy with dazzling blond hair and amber eyes. "Unfortunately, I am not. I'm a grim reaper actually, as you can see," he gestured to himself but Hannah couldn't understand how the boy resembled the dark, doom-bearing beings that she had in mind.

"No one told me grim reapers look like little boys and old women," she said.

The boy scoffed and muttered, "Those beliefs of your world have to be the most unattractive and unimaginable of all. Grim reapers are fundamentally created by the cycle of life and death to guide souls. If we were carrying a scythe and looked like evil skeletons, wouldn't all the souls run away from us instead?"

Hannah nodded understandingly—except she didn't even understand even a micrometer of what he had just sputtered. "That does make sense, I guess. Did this cycling thing also decide that I should die when I'm only 29 as a good-for-nothing?" She asked, feeling irate and a little downtrodden by her uneventful demise. At least let her see her family once before dying! She had led most of her life as a cheap recluse and had disappointed her wealthy clan by being a failure.

"You can put it that way though it would only be half correct. However, instead of complaining, you should put your effort into coaxing me so that I can assign you favourable conditions for your next life," the blond boy mumbled, his palm on his cheek.

Hannah immediately fell to the boy's feet, much to his astonishment, and grovelled shamelessly. "Alright, almighty grim reaper with skin as fair as Snow White's and eyes as bewitching as ten thousand suns. Please grant me your much-coveted mercy as well as your all-encompassing affection that all universes dream of," she stated beseechingly, resembling a little maid begging her master for an increased pay.

"Oh, um," the boy unexpectedly blushed as he stuttered shyly, "well...er...okay."

Hannah looked at him speechlessly; why was he getting all shy when he was the one who told her to boot-lick him?

Stifling a laugh, she sat upright, with an all-righteous face, and presented her full request, "I want to go back and celebrate Christmas with my family and my little sister. Can you make this possible for me, oh great one?"

The boy looked at his flawless nails and smiled confidently. He replied, "Oh? Just that? Yeah, I can do that. No biggie." He said this as he assessed his prim nails and evened out the rough edges with a nail cutter. (Uh, don't ask me where he got the nail cutter. Maybe he had a side hustle as a magician?)

Hannah was enthralled by his response and pulled him into a tight embrace emotionally. There was even a tear gleaming at the corner of her eyelid. "Really?! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you so much, you cute grim reaper! Mwah!" She emotionally kissed the friendly grim reaper on the cheek, making the boy's face heat up. Even his ears shone in a blood-red hue as he stammered embarrassedly and averted his gaze from her.

He stammered sheepishly, "Er...well...regardless, b-both of us...w-will have to keep our lips sealed about my interference with your...er, reincarnation. Grim reapers are just underlings, you see. It's not our place to squeeze in offers."

His slender fingers forked through his blond hair, perhaps a habit of his when he was anxious.

Hannah smiled, not having registered his words in her mind, and nodded. "Just tell your boss that you were giving me a Christmas gift," she stated with a shrug.

He smiled peculiarly before nodding his head and telling her that he was ready to grant her wish. Hannah readied herself ecstatically, rubbing her palms together. She had believed that death was something inescapable—and that once it had arrested her existence, she could not return to her normal life. Now though, it seemed that she could at least celebrate Christmas with her family before she permanently left that world.

At least, that's what Hannah thought.

The boy snapped his fingers and the world around Hannah changed completely. The girl's eyes widened.

"Huh? Isn't this...the world of the zombie apocalypse?"