Charles had been a reaper for a very long time. A very, very, very long time. He had been created by his master, the Grim Reaper. He was the first of the new reapers, of which there are few. The 2nd generation he called them. Charles had escorted countless souls, both good and evil, to the Judges Red and White. He had watched their infinite trials, but he never got to see where the people actually went after the trial. He of course heard of Heaven and Hell, but he never saw them. Today that would change. He hoped.
Charles walked up to the Grim Reaper's, his master's door, his black silk cloak swishing at his feet, and his sword at his waist. He walked throught the dark, badly lit, black hallways of the 'castle' the Reapers had in their pocket dimension. The Reapers lived in a sort of pocket dimension in which the Reapers lived in in thier miniscule amount of free time. He knocked on the large, black door.