The Last Great Reaper

by Billi Bell

  Death smiled and responded. “Your death will happen how it always would have, and I cannot promise you’ll see your mother again. The afterlife is not my territory, only getting you there. What you get in exchange, however, is revenge.”

  “Revenge against…the captain? How can I get vengeance if I am dead?” Audrey asked with evident skepticism.

  Death answered while her face morphed from a gentle kindness to pure malevolence. “I will personally reap his soul, but before I send him to the beyond, we will have a very long…talk. One that involves him experiencing every moment of torture and pain he put upon you, the others who came before and the ones sure to follow.”

  “Yes!” Audrey quickly answered with fire in her eyes. “Yes, take my body and avenge my—”

  Death raised her hand signaling Audrey to stop. “I cannot take your answer now, it must be on that day.” She pulled out a golden pocket watch and glanced at the time before continuing. “I must go now. These next months will be the hardest you’ve lived, but peace will be yours, know that.”

  Audrey watched silently as Death walked towards the door.

  She suddenly stopped and looked back at Audrey. “This is my only warning. Do not do anything to change that child’s fate. A person that remains in a world not meant for them is doomed to bring nothing but pain. You will make an enemy of me, and I am the last person you want to cross, understood?”

  Audrey nodded her head slowly as Death turned and walked thru the door.

  CHAPTER 3

  August 20, 1823: Rome, Mid-Afternoon

  Dominic stood on a mountainside, looking over a vast grassy plain. Herds of sheep were scattered across the vast landscape, and he could just see a small cottage in the distance. The scent of the grass filled the air as if a fresh rain had just fallen. A feeling of serenity washed over him. He was lost in thought when he heard someone approaching. To his right, heavy footsteps were now accompanied by a booming voice.

  He couldn’t make out the words, but he felt the urge to hide. A hand suddenly grabbed his left arm and just as he turned to see who, he woke in a heavy sweat. His bedclothes were drenched in sweat. He took a sip of the water at his bedside. Every night he had the same dream over and over, and it had become routine for him to leave out a glass of water before bed.

  The skies over Rome were cloudy, making the temperature of his room blissful. His humble quarters were slightly dimmed by a thin curtain and only a bed, dresser, desk, and chair occupied the small space. He stood and walked towards the window looking up at the sky. Every so often the sun would peak through the clouds and shine directly into his eyes. A soft knock at the door pulled him back.

  “One moment please,” he answered while putting on a robe. It had been a gift from a member of his flock before he departed for the Vatican. He supposed he shouldn’t have kept it, but the poor woman adored him and the thought of giving it away seemed wrong.

  He began to walk towards the door when to his surprise, it slowly opened. He grabbed a letter opener from his desk when he saw the empty threshold. Dominic stood in front of the empty doorway before walking out into the hallway. He looked to his left, nothing. Then over to his right, no one there either. He began laughing to himself.

  “Maybe my visitor is back.”

  Returning to his room, he closed the door and walked back to his bed. After a short rest, he prepared to get appropriately dressed. He gently smoothed out the small wrinkles in his cassock, and once he felt ready for the day, he turned to leave. His heart nearly jumped from his chest when he found his door wide open.

  He raced to the doorway but again found nothing. This time he searched the hallways more thoroughly, but only found emptiness. He started to walk back to his room, and as he turned into the door, he locked eyes with her and nearly fainted. Grasping onto the door to maintain his balance, he waited for her to make the first move. He didn’t trust his feet from not giving out beneath him.

  She was still dressed in the same black sleeveless dress, but now with her cape off. He could see it was adorned with red and black gemstones. The lack of coverage also provided a more unobstructed view of her face. Her full lips were complemented by cheekbones that were somehow both faint and defined. He fought to maintain eye contact, feeling as if his soul was being invaded every time he looked into her brown eyes. He didn’t dare look away, she moved so quickly, and he didn’t want a repeat of earlier.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she gestured for him to join her with fingers painted a dark shade of red. He chose the chair instead and closed the door behind him. He sat diagonal to her and as far away as possible. A slight smile appeared on her lips as she turned to face him.

  They sat in a silent standoff, one pair of eyes locked on the other. The silence was interrupted by a short knock. Cardinal Consalvi entered briefly taking note of Dominic’s odd position. When Dominic rose to greet his superior, he suddenly realized how it would look for a woman to be found in his room.

  “Your grace, it is not how it looks,” he said in a panic.

  “What is not how it looks?” Consalvi asked while scanning the room.

  Dominic looked back to his bed and saw that she was now wearing her hooded cape. She placed a finger to her lips and smiled.

  “My room...it has not been cleaned properly. I’m afraid I haven’t had time to, your grace,” he said trying to brush off the panic in his voice.

  “Your room looks fine. I came to see how you were feeling. You looked as if the devil himself had appeared to you,” said Consalvi.

  “Close…” Dominic could hear her voice in his head. “...but no, I can be so much worse.”

  “I am fine. Death has never been easy for me,” he told the cardinal. A lie he would ask forgiveness for later.

  “Good. I’ve only just awakened myself, what little rest one could get considering…” said Consalvi. His words drifted off as his thoughts floated back to his seeing the man he considered a friend, breathe his last breath.

  “Want to know when he’s going to die?” she asked.

  “…well, I have to attend to the preparations, I shall see you shortly,” Consalvi said before departing. As the door closed, Dominic turned back to see that she had retaken off her cape.

  “You can make yourself invisible? Are you sure you’re not the devil?” he asked sitting back in the chair.

  “No, but I’ve met a devil and what a weak little man he was,” she said with a fleeting smile. “How can you see me when I’m cloaked…James?”

  His breath left his body and nearly caused him to pass out. Grabbing the arms of his chair, he stood. “How do you know that name and who the hell are you?” he asked trying to control his anger.

  “Well, as for your name, I can read your thoughts and see your memories. Although, there is a large space that is blocking me and I’d really like to know what’s in there,” she said mischievously.

  “In regards to who I am, well I’m what you’ve been seeking for so long,” she said. Her eyes locked into his almost screaming at him to figure it out.

  Dominic looked her over again, and it hit him. He smiled for a few moments before saying, “Death.”

  “Oh, that smile. I don’t get it as often as I should,” she said. “I’m not really that bad if you’ve been good.”

  “You’re here to take me, finally,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for so long. I must say, I’m surprised you’re a woman. I mean no offense, of course.” He sat back in the chair and the tension in his body eased immensely.

  “No offense taken, almost all depictions of me are as a man, even those awful skeletons. I could kill with a single touch, but most men would still never admit to a woman’s power over them,” she said, her hands forming a tight fist. “So, how long have you been ready for me James, or do you prefer Dominic?”

  He took a deep breath before answering. “Dominic and I’ve been waiting for centuries.”

  Unbeknownst to those who knew him, Dominic was nearly four hundred years
old. His earliest memory was waking up in northern England in the 15th century with an English accent and a small amount of money in his pocket. He made his way to a village and eventually took the name of James Hart.

  He had no knowledge of why he never aged or why he couldn’t die. At times of great melancholy, he tested his immortality to no success.

  “Goodness, no one has called me James for years, and I barely remember it myself. How did you know who I am?”

  “It’s my job to know these things. Your memories, the ones I could find, span far too long for the average person,” she said keenly. “You are an immortal, and I like to keep tabs on things that can’t die. Somehow you’ve managed to elude me for years.”

  “Immortal, but that means I’ll never die. If I can’t die why are you really here, couldn’t you just watch me from afar.”

  “I could, but I don’t know how you can see me cloaked. Only the dead or those close to death can see me then,” she said rising from the bed and walking towards him. “An immortal is no exception to that rule, and you know what, I don’t like not knowing things like this.”

  Her eyes began to glow red, and his feet lifted from the floor.

  “Now that I’ve answered your question, you can answer mine. How can you see me?” she screamed as a skull formed across her face like a tattoo.

  His heart raced as panic set in. He found himself unable to speak, so he tried another way, his thoughts. “I swear I don’t know and if you’re going to kill me, make it fast.”

  “I’m not trying to kill you, I just want to see how long until—" Dominic’s body went limp after he passed out.

  “I wonder what makes you so special that He thinks I should take you with me,” she pondered as he dropped to the floor.

  As her face returned to normal, she recalled the message sent by way of the recently deceased pontiff.

  “Take him with you and keep him safe…now!” he screamed at her while pointing at Dominic.

  CHAPTER 4

  When Dominic awoke his head was pounding, and he found himself in darkness. After his eyes adjusted, he quickly realized he was definitely not in his room. He lay in a large bed centered within a meticulously decorated bedroom.

  The walls were covered with beautiful and priceless pieces of art. He saw only a single window covered in a heavy floor-length curtain. A large antique armoire stood across from a hand carved mantle over an unlit fireplace. The adoration was short lived as his memories of Death came flooding back, and he quickly searched the room. To his relief found himself alone.

  He continued to study his surroundings when he noticed something strange, silence. There were no sounds, not even crickets coming from outside. Rising from the bed, he realized he was completely nude. Even in the darkness, his modest nature made him feel exposed, and he quickly covered himself with the bedspread. He searched for a way to light the fireplace when it spontaneously came to life in flames.

  “I know you’re here,” he said aloud. He peered through the window only to find ivy growing over and blocking his view to the outside. His attempts to open it were useless. “Sealed shut, dammit.”

  “What naughty language for a priest, don’t stop,” said Death mischievously. Her disembodied voice resonated around him.

  He ignored her and wrapping himself tighter, he awkwardly made his way to the armoire. The hand carved dresser opened to a full wardrobe. Browsing through the collection of clothing he realized every item seemed to fit him perfectly. He found a cassock that appeared to be his own and dressed quickly. After being a priest for many years, he had not worn anything other than religious garments in over a century.

  After opening the heavy door to a pitch-black hallway, he returned to his room to find a candle to light his way. To his surprise, or not, a candelabra was sitting on the mantelpiece already lit for his convenience.

  “You know you can stop the charades and show yourself,” he spoke into the open door. “I don’t know how I can see you. So you might as well just let me go.”

  Grabbing the candelabra, he set out into the hallway. More artwork adorned the walls, and he noticed they were all portraits of different dark-skinned women dressed in black. Each wearing an invisible smile, with her right hand holding a giant scythe and her left a small red sphere. The last face was one he’d come to know.

  “Narcissism, thy name is Death.”

  “I heard that.” Death’s voice echoed throughout the long corridor. “I’m not vain, just nostalgic.”

  One by one the candles in the hallway were lit aflame as he walked by. He attempted to open every door he passed but found them bolted shut. Eventually, he saw an open door ahead of him. The light from the room was illuminating a small section of the hallway. He sped his pace and found himself in a vast library.

  Luxurious furniture filled the room accompanied by artifacts from around the world, and different cultures were in every corner. Books that appeared to be as old as he lined a bookcase that spanned the length of two walls. He spotted an Egyptian statue of Anubis beside a large painting of the angel of death standing in a graveyard under a dark sky.

  The painting covered the entire wall and was undoubtedly the showpiece of the room. In the foreground three, uniquely colored horses stood with riders in military formation. A fourth rider less pale horse stood beside her. Death wore her usual black dress and cape, but large black wings rose from her back. The scythe appeared different from the portraits in the hall, adorned with red orbs down its handcrafted handle. In the corner stood a lone figure, looking over at Death.

  Dominic circled the room admiring the many incarnations of her when he noticed the sounds. He could now hear the wind and wildlife come alive outside the large curtained windows.

  “Are you enjoying my collection?” Death asked. He turned to find her sitting in one of two large facing leather armchairs. “I’ve been collecting for years, but few have had the pleasure of seeing the spoils of my labor.”

  “I wonder why you seem to be such a warm person,” he bluntly responded as he sat in the chair opposite her. “Send me back to the Vatican, please.”

  “I can’t do that, they either think you abandoned the church, or you’re dead. I don’t really care, you can’t go back. Oh, and drop the fake Italian accent.”

  His face began to turn red with anger, and any sense of fear of her was gone.

  “What authority do you think you have that allows you to hold me prisoner?” he asked, this time he spoke with a British accent.

  She gave a long sigh and paused before responding. “I am one of the most powerful beings on Earth and if I want to keep you until this world turns back into a barren rock, I can,” she paused again to collect her thoughts.

  “I’ve been sent a message to keep you safe, by the God of Christianity. What I don’t know is what makes you so special to Him?”

  “Why He wants me protected, I have no idea. I’ve been around for many years, and I’ve been exposed to many different cultures and religions. One thing I have learned is usually when a God intervenes, something evil is on the horizon.”

  “You’ve been around, huh? I should have focused more on the memories you still have instead of whatever’s been blocked off,” she said. “Although I did notice you spent a lot of time with different tribes in the colonies.”

  “Yes, their views on the afterlife were beautiful. I spent many years there with many tribes, hoping one of them could help me pass on. The closest I got was a tribe who attempted to contact…you? I thought I saw something, a man dressed in black with a scythe, like yours but much smaller.”

  She smiled, “I do have many reapers to assist me. As more humans began to occupy the world, the more reapers I needed to help with the souls. I think you’ve been blessed with the sight into my world. You must have done something extraordinary for someone very powerful, and I’d like to know who.”

  Dominic leaned back into the chair and started searching through his years for a memory that could offer her r
esolution and allow him to leave, but he couldn’t think of anything to help.

  “Don’t ruin that little brain of yours, I believe you don’t know how you can see me,” she said.

  “Maybe it was God?” Dominic suggested.

  Death quickly shook her head. “No, only the dead can give sight into our world. A god of death is most likely. Maybe Maasawu took a shine to you? Whatever the reason, you are under divine protection.”

  There was silence for a few minutes as they both tried to figure out the conundrum they now found themselves a part of. Dominic grew frustrated, and his focus soon shifted.

  “You said earlier that there are more people like me, immortals. How many, if I may ask?”

  “You want to know more about your kind, fair,” she said with what actually sounded like sympathy. “Only a few hundred around the world. One randomly born every century or so to mortal parents. They are of various ages, race, religions, and cultures. A few clusters around the world live together as families and travel to new areas every decade or so. They’re very secretive about their…condition.”

  Dominic's eyes lit with joy. In all his years of living, he had never met another genuine immortal or even heard of another’s existence at all. “Since you believe I don’t know about my ability to see you, please let me go and join one of those clusters. You will never see me again.”

  “I can’t do that. In all my years, He has never asked me for anything. I reap his souls and return them to Him. That is why I was created, and that is what I will do until this world is no more. He begged me to take you with me and keep you safe,” she paused before continuing.

  “I have to assume that is for a significant reason. He may very well be the one who somehow gave you the sight of my world somehow. My instinct says to keep you around, and I will do just that. After the time comes that I will need you, I will release you when your duty is surely done. I promise this.”

  Dominic was clearly disappointed, but part of him understood. She had a duty to uphold. A request from God could not be taken lightly. He was about to abandon his claim to be freed when her earlier words hit him.