Reaper
folder
Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
580
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
580
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Beginning
Beginning
*Author's note. This is my first real story so go easy on any plot holes, inconsistencies, or anything else like that. Also please review*
“Five years. Five years of trying to save this city.” He thought as he stared out from his perch on an abandoned skyscraper at the city and the rain heavy black clouds above him.
He’s a big man, over six and a half feet tall and weighs probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 245 and 260 pounds. He wears a long black trench coat accented with various designs made of silver. His face is hidden under his coats hood; all anyone would be able to see is long straight black strands of hair that stick out. But it’s not the strangeness of his dress or his size that would catch most people’s eye, instead it’s the weapon he carries. A massive grim reaper’s scythe. That’s where the newspapers got the idea for his name, Reaper. The scythe’s shaft is longer than Reaper is tall and the blade itself is nearly a foot at its widest and three and a half feet long. Finally it begins to drizzle, then rain, and finally becomes a downpour. “Huh. Kinda reminds me of when I first came here…”
Five years ago
It’s a normal rainy day in the city. The rains coming down hard but it isn’t really all that special. However in a back ally, in the southeastern part of the city, an oval shaped window appears. No one would notice it walking by, but if they stopped and looked carefully they would. The window was about eight feet tall and three feet wide and seemed to come straight up out of the ground. That wasn’t the only odd thing, the widow was entirely dark. Not dark like looking in a room with the lights out, but dark as in it seemed to be made out of shadows. After a minute or two a man steps out wearing a long completely black trench coat and wearing a blood red balaclava. Once he was through the window closed up again.
“So this is the city I must harvest for him,” he said looking around, “not surprising. It already looks like it belongs in Hell.”
As he walked out, he decided to look for the nearest person on the list he received. “So if this is 14th street, then the nearest person would be at apartment 9a on 16th street. Well I better get to work...”
********
Down at apartment 10a on 16th street, Amber was getting home to her apartment. She was 22 years old and just finishing a day at the community college she goes to. She went to the college not because she was dumb or didn’t want to go to a bigger school; it was because her mom and dad couldn’t afford it and they didn’t want her to end up like her ex-boyfriend. They had met at a high school party during their sophomore year and hit it right off. He had gotten to got to a major university in a couple of cities over when they graduated, but then because he was partying too much and the university didn’t want to do anything about it he was killed. She never really knew any of the details except he was murdered for supposedly for being too drunk to realize he was making fun of one of the university’s biggest thugs and the guy just stabbed him to death. That was about four years ago. She sighed as she sat down on the couch and turned on the T.V.
“Just another lame, rainy, day in this overpriced apartment.”
Then she heard it, wood splintering next door. She ran outside to see what happened and discovered her neighbor’s door was forced open and there was whimpering coming from inside.
“Should I call for help or go see what happened?”
She was frantic almost going back to call the police when she heard the tenant cry for help.
“That settles it I’m going in.”
She ran through the door and gasped and as she beheld the horrible sight. There was a man in a black trench coat and a blood red balaclava holding a scythe with the blade run through the apartment's tenant’s stomach and into a wall.
********
”This is what happens when you try to interfere with my work.”
The man that was on his blade was not his target. His wife was but he tried to save her and she ended up running away. He was probably still oblivious to the fact that she had cheated him for the past ten years in love and money. Then he heard someone behind him. Turning around and leaving the man pinned to the wall he looked upon a young woman and then it happened. He started to remember things.
“This isn’t possible; I have never remembered anything or anyone. How is this happening?” As he looked at her a name popped up and a realization of what he has been doing for the past four years.
“Amber,” he said, “what’s going on?”
********
“O.K. Calm down. How does he know my name and why does his voice sound so familiar?” She thought as she stared at the man in a now blood stained black coat.
“Who are you?” She finally said.
The man looked almost crestfallen at those words, but recovered quickly. He then turned back towards her neighbor stuck to the wall and grabbed the scythe. As soon as he grabbed it the scythe turned black and faded. Her neighbor fell to the floor, shocked and where the scythe cut him seemed to get that same black color his scythe had then it to faded leaving him with nothing more than a small scar. Then the man in the trench coat left and disappeared in the rain.
*******
“Seems that I need to sort some things out about what I have been doing” He thought as he summoned up a similar shadow window before walking through it.
He then reappeared inside a church. A very lovely church when one looks really takes the time to look over the decorations and ornaments that praised the church’s beliefs. He made a bee line for the head priests head office to speak with him. When he got there the priest was nose deep in a book and didn’t notice the man until he cleared his throat.
“Yes, how may I help –DEAR SWEET-” the priest shouted only to be interrupted by the man.
“Yes, yes I know. I’m covered in blood. Chill out.”
“But-but-but…”The priest went on.
“ENOUGH!!” The man shouted, “I need your help.” “V-very well, h-how may I assist you?” asked the priest, now starting to sweat profusely.
“I need to know how I can retrieve my soul from the fires of Hell and I need to know now.” Said the man nonchalantly.
“O.K. Ummm…does this mean your dead?” asked a very clearly shaken priest.
“No idea,” responds the man, now flicking off dried flakes of blood.
“Yes, then you must have been either killed or attacked by a servant of Hell that dragged you into service with them” The priest said now starting to calm down seeing as he hadn’t been killed yet,
“The only way I know of possibly saving yourself would be to find that servant and destroy him. Afterwards you should be released from the servitude and allowed to return to normal life or ascend to Heaven.”
“Sounds good enough, I'll be back though if it doesn’t work.” said the man leaving.
“Why is that?!” shouted the priest at the man getting worried again.
“’Cause you seem to know how to get out of servitude and all that jazz.” He said as he vanished through a window of darkness.
********
Chuck was sharpening his sword when a window of darkness appeared.
“Well, if it isn’t -” he started.
“Shut up. I’m here to kill you!” said the man in the black trench coat summoning his scythe.
"Whys that?" the other asked.
“Very well, just remember you started it this time.” Chuck coolly said readying his sword.
There they stood, Chuck with his sword raised ready to parry or charge, and the man in the black trench coat, holding his scythe in front of him ready to kill this person or beast and gain some kind of normalcy in his life or death. Being impatient the man in the black coat ran forward swinging his scythe across at Chuck. Only to be blocked and sent into the wall from a kick to the chest.
“Come on, show me something I’ve only gotten started and you’re sitting down. Tired?” Chuck taunted.
“No. Just thinking of a good way to kill you.” The man by the wall said before lashing out once again.
This time he had the upper hand. Chuck was trying to push back the scythe’s shaft away from his body when his opponent asked him,” Did you forget about the blade on the end? Oh well, too late.”
With that final statement the man in the black coat pulled the scythe’s blade into the back of Chuck and successfully severing Chuck’s right arm. Chuck dropped to the ground and stared at his arm on the floor in front of him. It was still clutching his sword and twitching as if it wanted to fight by itself.
“O.K. O.K. You won. Fuck that hurt. Now give me my arm back so I can get to work.” Demanded Chuck. They were his last words.
********
He stood there. Chuck's body, or what was left of it, was finally starting to catch fire. The man had decided to burn the pulp to make sure there was no chance of Chuck coming back.
“I don't feel any different.” said the man dismayed, "How am I supposed to know if I've been released? Guess I need to talk to that priest again."
*Author's note. This is my first real story so go easy on any plot holes, inconsistencies, or anything else like that. Also please review*
“Five years. Five years of trying to save this city.” He thought as he stared out from his perch on an abandoned skyscraper at the city and the rain heavy black clouds above him.
He’s a big man, over six and a half feet tall and weighs probably somewhere in the neighborhood of 245 and 260 pounds. He wears a long black trench coat accented with various designs made of silver. His face is hidden under his coats hood; all anyone would be able to see is long straight black strands of hair that stick out. But it’s not the strangeness of his dress or his size that would catch most people’s eye, instead it’s the weapon he carries. A massive grim reaper’s scythe. That’s where the newspapers got the idea for his name, Reaper. The scythe’s shaft is longer than Reaper is tall and the blade itself is nearly a foot at its widest and three and a half feet long. Finally it begins to drizzle, then rain, and finally becomes a downpour. “Huh. Kinda reminds me of when I first came here…”
Five years ago
It’s a normal rainy day in the city. The rains coming down hard but it isn’t really all that special. However in a back ally, in the southeastern part of the city, an oval shaped window appears. No one would notice it walking by, but if they stopped and looked carefully they would. The window was about eight feet tall and three feet wide and seemed to come straight up out of the ground. That wasn’t the only odd thing, the widow was entirely dark. Not dark like looking in a room with the lights out, but dark as in it seemed to be made out of shadows. After a minute or two a man steps out wearing a long completely black trench coat and wearing a blood red balaclava. Once he was through the window closed up again.
“So this is the city I must harvest for him,” he said looking around, “not surprising. It already looks like it belongs in Hell.”
As he walked out, he decided to look for the nearest person on the list he received. “So if this is 14th street, then the nearest person would be at apartment 9a on 16th street. Well I better get to work...”
********
Down at apartment 10a on 16th street, Amber was getting home to her apartment. She was 22 years old and just finishing a day at the community college she goes to. She went to the college not because she was dumb or didn’t want to go to a bigger school; it was because her mom and dad couldn’t afford it and they didn’t want her to end up like her ex-boyfriend. They had met at a high school party during their sophomore year and hit it right off. He had gotten to got to a major university in a couple of cities over when they graduated, but then because he was partying too much and the university didn’t want to do anything about it he was killed. She never really knew any of the details except he was murdered for supposedly for being too drunk to realize he was making fun of one of the university’s biggest thugs and the guy just stabbed him to death. That was about four years ago. She sighed as she sat down on the couch and turned on the T.V.
“Just another lame, rainy, day in this overpriced apartment.”
Then she heard it, wood splintering next door. She ran outside to see what happened and discovered her neighbor’s door was forced open and there was whimpering coming from inside.
“Should I call for help or go see what happened?”
She was frantic almost going back to call the police when she heard the tenant cry for help.
“That settles it I’m going in.”
She ran through the door and gasped and as she beheld the horrible sight. There was a man in a black trench coat and a blood red balaclava holding a scythe with the blade run through the apartment's tenant’s stomach and into a wall.
********
”This is what happens when you try to interfere with my work.”
The man that was on his blade was not his target. His wife was but he tried to save her and she ended up running away. He was probably still oblivious to the fact that she had cheated him for the past ten years in love and money. Then he heard someone behind him. Turning around and leaving the man pinned to the wall he looked upon a young woman and then it happened. He started to remember things.
“This isn’t possible; I have never remembered anything or anyone. How is this happening?” As he looked at her a name popped up and a realization of what he has been doing for the past four years.
“Amber,” he said, “what’s going on?”
********
“O.K. Calm down. How does he know my name and why does his voice sound so familiar?” She thought as she stared at the man in a now blood stained black coat.
“Who are you?” She finally said.
The man looked almost crestfallen at those words, but recovered quickly. He then turned back towards her neighbor stuck to the wall and grabbed the scythe. As soon as he grabbed it the scythe turned black and faded. Her neighbor fell to the floor, shocked and where the scythe cut him seemed to get that same black color his scythe had then it to faded leaving him with nothing more than a small scar. Then the man in the trench coat left and disappeared in the rain.
*******
“Seems that I need to sort some things out about what I have been doing” He thought as he summoned up a similar shadow window before walking through it.
He then reappeared inside a church. A very lovely church when one looks really takes the time to look over the decorations and ornaments that praised the church’s beliefs. He made a bee line for the head priests head office to speak with him. When he got there the priest was nose deep in a book and didn’t notice the man until he cleared his throat.
“Yes, how may I help –DEAR SWEET-” the priest shouted only to be interrupted by the man.
“Yes, yes I know. I’m covered in blood. Chill out.”
“But-but-but…”The priest went on.
“ENOUGH!!” The man shouted, “I need your help.” “V-very well, h-how may I assist you?” asked the priest, now starting to sweat profusely.
“I need to know how I can retrieve my soul from the fires of Hell and I need to know now.” Said the man nonchalantly.
“O.K. Ummm…does this mean your dead?” asked a very clearly shaken priest.
“No idea,” responds the man, now flicking off dried flakes of blood.
“Yes, then you must have been either killed or attacked by a servant of Hell that dragged you into service with them” The priest said now starting to calm down seeing as he hadn’t been killed yet,
“The only way I know of possibly saving yourself would be to find that servant and destroy him. Afterwards you should be released from the servitude and allowed to return to normal life or ascend to Heaven.”
“Sounds good enough, I'll be back though if it doesn’t work.” said the man leaving.
“Why is that?!” shouted the priest at the man getting worried again.
“’Cause you seem to know how to get out of servitude and all that jazz.” He said as he vanished through a window of darkness.
********
Chuck was sharpening his sword when a window of darkness appeared.
“Well, if it isn’t -” he started.
“Shut up. I’m here to kill you!” said the man in the black trench coat summoning his scythe.
"Whys that?" the other asked.
“Very well, just remember you started it this time.” Chuck coolly said readying his sword.
There they stood, Chuck with his sword raised ready to parry or charge, and the man in the black trench coat, holding his scythe in front of him ready to kill this person or beast and gain some kind of normalcy in his life or death. Being impatient the man in the black coat ran forward swinging his scythe across at Chuck. Only to be blocked and sent into the wall from a kick to the chest.
“Come on, show me something I’ve only gotten started and you’re sitting down. Tired?” Chuck taunted.
“No. Just thinking of a good way to kill you.” The man by the wall said before lashing out once again.
This time he had the upper hand. Chuck was trying to push back the scythe’s shaft away from his body when his opponent asked him,” Did you forget about the blade on the end? Oh well, too late.”
With that final statement the man in the black coat pulled the scythe’s blade into the back of Chuck and successfully severing Chuck’s right arm. Chuck dropped to the ground and stared at his arm on the floor in front of him. It was still clutching his sword and twitching as if it wanted to fight by itself.
“O.K. O.K. You won. Fuck that hurt. Now give me my arm back so I can get to work.” Demanded Chuck. They were his last words.
********
He stood there. Chuck's body, or what was left of it, was finally starting to catch fire. The man had decided to burn the pulp to make sure there was no chance of Chuck coming back.
“I don't feel any different.” said the man dismayed, "How am I supposed to know if I've been released? Guess I need to talk to that priest again."