Reaper Read online

  “Where are you going?” the Reaper asked.

  “I need to go home. I’ve got school in the morning,” Blink said. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you your next mission before I go.” Blink then looked in his satchel for his eyepiece.

  “Have you ever seen someone die?” the Reaper asked.

  “Yeah, all the time in movies, video games, news, and stuff like that,” Blink said. He stopped for a moment and looked up at Reaper. “Huh. No, I have never seen a person die. I’ve killed a deer once, but it wasn’t that brutal.” He looked back into his bag.

  “I am sorry,” Reaper said.

  “Don’t worry about it, man, I’m fine,” Blink said. “Ah, here it is.” Blink put on the device and searched for the Reaper’s next mission. “Okay, first go back to Greece. There’s no sense in you staying down here. Wait for me in Delphi, it’ll make finding you easier.” The Reaper stared blankly at Blink. “In forty years.”

  “Forty years? I will be dead,” the Reaper said.

  “No. In fact, you won’t even age a day.”

  “Why not take me with you?”

  “What you are will not mix with what I can do. I need you to trust me.” Blink shook Reaper’s hand. “I’ll see you in forty years.”

  “Wait, what do I do about Death?” Reaper asked, but it was too late. Blink had already gone back to his own time.

  Chapter Four:

  Companionship

  “Yesterday, I went back in time and saw the world-renowned fighter Reaper battle the ancient Egyptian sorcerer Set. I was embarrassed when the Reaper saw me vomit at the sight of his rather grizzly victory. I suppose with the life I’ve chosen, I’d better get used to the idea of seeing people die. I think after school tomorrow I will go back in time again to show Reaper his next task. I wonder about him—he’s easily angered, it seems. I can’t blame him for this, but he is too attached to his wife and boy. I feel like this attachment is holding him back, like his regrets and fears are weighing him down. He says that Death is present in his head. I am looking into how to get Death out of the Reaper’s head. The data that was sent back to me is good, but I feel that it is still incomplete. It’s hard to even fathom the wealth of information here. It will take me years just to get through it all. Right now, my mind is split. Do I wait to go back to the Reaper, or do I wait and finish school first? What if I’m too eager, and I screw something up in my haste? I have to wait thousands of years resting on me going back and ensuring that he becomes the hero that history will one day record. It’s been a long couple days, I think I’m gonna head to sleep. This is Blink signing off; goodnight.” Blink leaned forward in his seat and turned off his computer. He got in his bed, and Isaiah jumped up next to him.

  The Reaper spent years getting back to Greece. He walked the entire distance around the Mediterranean Sea through Anatolia. The Reaper kept his hood up and his head down. While Reaper did his best not to slaughter the soldiers until he could find and kill Alexander himself, Death was playing off of this temptation, the same way he had when the Reaper had traveled to Abydos. *114 [Death made his grip tighter as the days went by. Reaper may have been strong in body, but his mind was still weak and easily manipulated. He believed in a barbaric justice that Death could exploit. Exploring the slightest common ground allowed Death sneak in like a thief. At one point in Reaper’s travels back to Greece, he gave in wholly to Death. Not in the sense that the Reaper did what Death wanted. Rather Death slipped in and took full control of the Reaper’s body. Suddenly a passenger in his own body Reaper watched in horror as Death ravaged and destroyed a small village. Reaper had become a prisoner in his own body and Death used his hands to murder innocents mercilessly. When Reaper finally got his body back from Death, he was mortified.

  “Their blood is as much on your hands as they are on mine,” Death said happily.

  “No, their blood is on your hands alone,” the Reaper said. “I was no part of it.”

  “You did not stop me sooner. You may find this difficult to admit, but you enjoyed it. Even if it was just the smallest amount, you still felt the pleasure from me ripping them apart.” Death was convinced of his own words.

  “Believe what you wish. I felt no such pleasure from your senseless killing,” Reaper insisted. “I will fight you.”

  “You cannot fight me,” Death laughed. “You are the weaker of the two of us. I am far stronger. What hope have you? That time-traveler?”

  “He wants you gone as much as I do. I know I can trust him that far,” the Reaper said.

  “What will you do if I kill him?” Death asked.

  “You will not touch him, demon.”

  “And you’re going to stop me?”

  Reaper pushed on to Delphi, determined to never again be Death’s weapon. For the remainder of the forty years, the Reaper made a life for himself in Delphi. In that time, he acted primarily as a traveling merchant for a business man. He pulled a cart along the roads, selling to anyone who would buy. City after city, year after year, he set up and sold the merchandise. When his master passed away, he took over the shop. Never once in the many years did he let the scythe get too far from his reach.

  He lived peacefully, until the day came that a group of men took notice of the Reaper. A man who looks the same decades later will stick out. There came a day when a young warrior passed by with five of his friends. One recognized him from that same shop from years earlier. The first time this man had seen the Reaper, he was only six years old, and years later, the Reaper looked exactly the same—the same thick black beard, the same wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. The youthful warrior approached the Reaper at his shop.

  “Excuse me, old man,” the young warrior said.

  “Yes?” the Reaper replied. “What can I help you with today?”

  “I’m looking for a man,” the young warrior said.

  “Does this man have a name? Perhaps if I have met him, I may point you toward him,” Reaper suggested.

  “Actually,” the young warrior said. “I do not believe this man has a name. None that I have ever heard.”

  Death was sitting behind the Reaper with his hands on his chin and his elbows on his knees. At the words of this young warrior, Death perked his head up.

  “If I recall, he worked at this very shop.”

  “It is you that he is looking for,” Death said as he stood up.

  “How do you find a man that has no name?” the Reaper asked.

  “I did say he worked at this very shop,” the young warrior said. The Reaper began to sweat.

  “I recently inherited this shop from my master,” the Reaper said. He moved his hand down slowly, reaching for the scythe. “I am the only one who works here.”

  “You are the man I am looking for,” the young warrior said.

  “Your time is up, Reaper,” Death said.

  “I would like to ask you something,” the young warrior said. “How have you kept your youthful appearance for so long?”

  “I am afraid I do not know what you are asking,” the Reaper said. He took a tighter grip on his scythe.

  “This is it,” Death said. “The moment I have been waiting for. Kill them. Give me control!”

  “No!” the Reaper shouted and looked down.

  “What are you?” the young warrior asked. “Show me your face.”

  “Leave me now,” the Reaper said.

  “Let go!” Death shouted an inch from Reaper’s ear. The Reaper swung the scythe at Death, screaming. The young warriors drew their swords, thinking that they were under attack by the Reaper. The warrior that had been speaking to the Reaper got behind him and stabbed him in the back. The Reaper let out a scream of pain. He stepped forward with the sword still in him. The warriors stood, surprised that he had not fallen dead yet. The Reaper looked at the man who’d stabbed him. He took the blade sticking out of his chest with his thumb on one side and fingers on the other. Slowly, he pushed the sword back. The short sword fell out of his back, and he turned to the
young warrior that had stabbed him.

  “You made a mistake,” Death said through the Reaper.

  “No! No!” Reaper shouted from inside his own head. He felt as if he were falling into a dark abys. Death took the scythe and swung at the young warrior. The warrior and his friends were suddenly gone. Death looked around, confused and dizzy, with the scythe buried in a wooden beam. He freed the scythe and gripped it with both hands, ready to fight. Blink appeared in front of him.

  “Reaper, what are you doing?” Blink asked.

  “The Reaper is not here,” Death said, and swung the scythe at Blink.

  “Death?” Blink was surprised, and he teleported away. He appeared behind Death and took the scythe from him. “Give Reaper back to me, now.”

  “Foolish child,” Death intoned. He walked toward Blink, who backed away slowly. “Strike me. Protect yourself from me.” Blink lifted the scythe to a defensive position. “You cannot fight me, can you? Not while I inhabit your friend. Sentiment is weakness.”

  “Reaper, I know you’re in there. I could use your help about now,” Blink said, shaking.

  “He…” Death paused and shook his head. “Quiet!” Reaper pounded on the preverbal doors to his own body.

  “Fight him, Reaper,” Blink cried with confidence.

  “Silence, both of you.” Death demanded. He was losing his balance as Reaper fought for control. Reaper rested his arms on a nearby table and squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Blink, I am back,” Reaper said, holding out hand.

  “How can I know that you are the Reaper, not Death?” Blink asked.

  “I placed my life in your hands and have given everything to accept your teachings. It seems you must be willing to trust me as well,” Reaper said.

  “Fair enough,” Blink said. He gave the scythe back to the Reaper. “It is time to leave.” Blink gestured with his head at the crowds of people muttering to each other. Reaper turned and saw that there were people running off after witnessing this strange event.

  “I need to pass on the shop,” the Reaper said.

  “No time; we need to leave now. Someone will eventually take it,” Blink said, and shook the scythe in front of Reaper. The Reaper took the scythe and followed Blink out of Delphi. The two of them left the city on a northbound road. “What was that? Back there—what happened?”

  “He got the better of me,” Reaper said somberly. “I think he seized me in a single moment of fear and anger.” Reaper looked away brushing a tear from his cheek.

  “He won’t always have you in a struggle like this,” Blink said. “And this next mission is going to ensure that.”

  “How?” the Reaper asked.

  “Yes, I would like to know as well,” Death said.

  “You need a friend. Someone that brings positivity to your gloomy demeaner. That should help keep your inner demon at bay. You’re gonna want to go north, mostly. You’ll have to go more of a northwest. There’s gonna be some mountains in your way, so this will take some time. I’ll be there for you at various points along your journey.”

  “How long will this journey take?” the Reaper asked.

  “To be honest with you, I don’t think it really matters. You literally have all the time in the world,” Blink said with an ear-to-ear smile. He took a folded-up map out of his satchel and handed it to the Reaper. “It’s not the best, but it’s what I could do on short notice. Follow the red line to the best of your ability. I’ll be waiting for you at the dot. Also…” Blink reached into his satchel. “…I had this made for you, and I forgot to give it to you the last time I saw you.” Blink pulled out a folded set of clothes. “I like the blue and black, but when I saw the bronze and crimson, I thought it looked good.”

  The Reaper took the clothes. Not a word was said, but though the Reaper was looking down, Blink caught a glimpse of a smile.

  “Good luck, Reaper. I’ll see you in the future.”

  After Blink was gone, the Reaper found a secluded area to change into his new clothes—a crimson tunic, bronze leggings, and sandals. He strapped on his belt and scythe, then made his way across mountains and plains, following Blink’s map to the best of his ability. Along the road, the Reaper heard a distant voice.

  “Reaper…” The voice was carried on the wind atop the mountains. “Reaper…”

  “I hear you! Show yourself!” the Reaper shouted out into the wind.

  “What have you done, Reaper? What have you done?” The voice was louder now.

  “I have done nothing. Who’s voice are you?” the Reaper called out.

  “You killed them!” The voice cracked, and the Reaper was forced back. He fell in the snow, but stood quickly to his feet. When he stumbled back to his feet and raised his head, his eyes met the cold, dead ones of the Specter.

  “Leave, creature,” spat the Reaper, flecking the snow with his blood.

  Death’s gaping mouth leered. “You cannot fight us both.”

  “I can and I will.”

  The Specter’s hollow laugh circled the Reaper like a carnivorous dog. “He is right, you know. You’re no match for us.”

  The cold, which hadn’t yet managed to bother the Reaper, finally seemed to rattle through his bones at those words. “You can see him?” he whispered, darting his gaze between the two. “You can hear him?”

  “I forged the scythe,” the Specter said. “You have perverted your purpose.”

  “I am undoing the curse you laid on me,” the Reaper said.

  “Laid on you? I gave you a choice, and you took the scythe. I even offered you the chance to have your family back,” the Specter said.

  “The price is too great. I have heard what I would become if I did as you ask,” the Reaper said.

  “You have a bark,” the Specter said. “I have waited hundreds of years for you, Reaper. You will bend to my will.”

  “I will die first.”

  “You think you are being strong, but you are not,” the Specter said. “You are ignorant. Behold the fruit of your betrayal.” A fiery orange portal opened to the Reaper’s right. Out of the portal fell the corpses of the Reaper’s wife and child. The Reaper caught his wife and fell to his knees.

  “No. Dear Fates, no.” The Reaper held his dead wife’s head close to his chest and wept. He looked up to the terrible Specter. “Why? This was between us. What do their deaths get you?” He spoke as a broken man.

  “You,” the Specter said. “I am willing to bring them back, for a price.”

  The Reaper swallowed. “Me, doing your bidding.”

  “I like the way this is going,” Death said.

  “Your life for theirs,” the Specter said. Rock and snow swirled around Reaper’s wife and child. The Reaper looked down at his wife as her eyes opened. His own eyes now ran rivers of joy. The Reaper stood his wife’s hands, grasped in his own.

  “I thought you had died,” she said. “I thought I had died. Is this the next life?”

  “It is not. We each have been brought back,” the Reaper said. He pulled her close and hugged her. Their child came to them, and the Reaper held them both.

  “Thank you, Specter,” the Reaper said. His wife and child were frightened at the sight of the Specter, as anyone would be. “This is the being that brought us back,” he told his family.

  “What deal have you made to bring us together?” his wife asked.

  “I am his servant, for your lives,” the Reaper said.

  “No, let the three of us die,” she said, walking toward the Specter. “He will not be the weapon of a demon.”

  The Specter looked up at the Reaper. “Do you share this opinion?”

  “I suppose I do. Take my life and let us rest together,” the Reaper said.

  “If I cannot bargain with you, you leave me no choice but to force you into submission,” the Specter said, disappointed. He grabbed the Reaper’s wife by the back of her neck and threw her behind him, off the side of the mountain.

  In that moment, time seemed to slow down. The
Reaper went to run after her, but as the Reaper moved forward, the Specter took his son and flipped him over the side of the mountain. The Specter then caught Reaper by the throat, stopping him as he lunged to save his family. “Their screams are yours to savor. If you ever wonder what their last thoughts were, you can always search their memories. I do believe that they must have seen you as the hero you so badly wish to be. They must be proud.” The Reaper struggled and let out a cry of distress. He pulled at the Specter’s arm and punched his chest, but it had no effect.

  “This one has a powerful spirit,” Death observed.

  “It is incredible,” the Specter said. “Where were you going?”

  “The time-traveler came back. He gave the Reaper a map,” Death said.

  “Do you know why he was going?” the Specter asked Death.

  “The time-traveler said that he was going to find a way to get me out of this body.”

  “That is not possible,” the Specter said. “I will let you go on for now. I am curious what will be there.” He dropped the Reaper.

  “What do you want me to do?” Death asked.

  “Stay informed,” the Specter said, and left into a portal. Death squatted down next to the Reaper.

  “At least you have his permission to go this time,” Death said. “Now no one else you care about will be killed. I suppose you would need someone else for that to happen, though.”

  “You are right,” the Reaper said. “I have nothing left to lose.” The Reaper stood and kept walking.

  “Where are you going?” Death asked. “Your family was just murdered.”

  “Yes, and now I am going to look for a way to kill you, and that Specter,” the Reaper growled.

  “You heard the Specter. It cannot be done,” Death said.

  “You sound afraid.”

  “Not afraid. Never afraid.”

  They made their way to the Black Forest several days later. Blink showed up wearing green and brown clothes. Physically, he did not look much different, other than having shorter hair. He greeted the Reaper with his arms spread wide and a friendly smile. The Reaper greeted Blink with a sucker punch to the gut. Death laughed hysterically at this exchange. Blink staggered back and leaned against a tree, coughing a little.