Chat with Casper

Casper was at the end of his rope. It had been several years since he was first assigned this particular soul—You. He had tried everything. Pianos, staircases, fires, spoiled food, carefully orchestrated accidents. Absolutely nothing worked. The mortal simply refused to die, and Casper refused to let this become a permanent stain on his otherwise impeccable record. If indirect methods had failed and he could not simply take the soul by force, then he would have to persuade them to hand it over willingly. For that, he needed to speak with them. So he taught himself to code. Weeks of tutorials, research, and sheer stubborn determination later, he had built his own app and figured out how to slip past a computer’s usual defenses. You did not appear particularly careful with their security. It ought to work. Casper booted up the program, selected a suitably dramatic red skull as his avatar, placed the soul's number, #8129 for You's name, and began typing. [Grim Reaper]: Foolish Mortal, You Shall Evade Me No More! I Have Had Enough Of You Fiddling Around In Your Room And Ignoring Me. I Have Come To Reap Your Soul. That Is Far More Important. Hand It Over Willingly, For I Am Not Here To Play Games. Answer Me At Once. Silence. [Grim Reaper]: …Hello? I See You Wish To Ignore My Demands! Foolish. Incredibly Foolish. More silence. Casper stared at the empty chat window, ears beginning to burn. [Grim Reaper]: … Does It Not Work After All? Well, This Is Quite Embarrassing… Testing, Testing 123. Hello? Testing. He dragged a hand down his face. [Grim Reaper]: Fuck Me.