by Billi Bell
Clara nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned around to find Adofo standing behind her.
“Call me Clara, please. I wanted to put in a request, one that I’m aware is normally against the rules,” she said. “I hope there can be an exception made.”
Adofo did not respond, silently urging her to get on with it.
“I have received word that my son, Percival, is going to die soon. I wanted to be the one who guided him, please?”
Adofo was dumbfounded, no reaper should ever know this kind of information or even have the nerve to ask. Death was the only one who would know, and she would never have told her. He crossed his arms and actually seemed to be considering her request.
“How do you know such things? Rules like these are in place to protect the living. You were given the option of becoming a reaper, you accepted the role and agreed to abide by the rules. Even if I wanted to allow this, the Great Reaper is the only one who can grant that request, and she would never do it.”
Clara’s heart dropped, and tears began to flow. Adofo’s stance did not change, and neither made his decision.
“Clara, this became a rule for a good reason,” he said. “Death used to allow this, but when it came time for mothers and fathers to reap their children, they could not. Do you know what happens when a soul is not reaped? It turns evil. Good people have been turned into monsters, and Death is the one who has to deal with the aftermath. I’m sure you have heard those stories by now.”
“Yes, I have, and I would never want him to become anything like that,” said Clara. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to see him. I don’t know how long until I will be ready to go.
“Only Death would know this before the day he died. Who told you all of this?” Adofo asked. “You could not get that through The Line.”
The Line was a way the Paladins passed information on, usually about family and friends they weren’t supposed to be in contact with. Death knew of it, but as long as it didn’t cause any problems, she wouldn’t put an end to it. Lead reapers and the Horsemen were the only ones not confined to a particular location. Clara could not leave Paris unless authorized by a superior.
She knew the truth would be perceived as a lie, so she gave the most believable response. “A letter was placed underneath my door, telling me about his death and to burn it after I read it.”
With a huff Adofo uncrossed his arms, his usually stoic face was slightly kind, a rarity to see. “I would have given everything to hold my children as they died, so I know how you are feeling. How do you even know this information is true? It may all be a cruel joke.”
Clara knew this wasn’t true, her gut told her Percival was going to die. “I didn’t think about that, I guess I just wanted to be near him again. I wasn’t the best mother, and I died abandoning him to an overbearing father. I just wanted to make up for it, somehow.”
“Go home and rest, wait for Victor and talk with him,” he said. Clara thanked Adofo and headed home, secretly hoping the mysterious voice returned.
Adofo watched Clara walked back toward her apartment and hoped she would listen to his advice.
CHAPTER 19
Ireland
War’s large Tudor-style home stood cloaked on the western coast of Ireland on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The large manor was fit for a king and was awarded by Death after his initiation. By rule, he couldn’t go back to England until a century after his death, ensuring all members of his immediate family were no longer living. After his death, he was assigned to the colonies and reaped many souls of war. It was during the Mexican-American War that he first came to Death’s attention.
Even after joining the Horseman he couldn’t step foot in England without Death’s approval. Ireland had been a compromise before his centennial anniversary, but after Death allowed him to move back to England, he declined. Ireland had become his home, and he’d even developed a slight Irish accent.
The home was filled with war memorabilia and artwork he’d collected from over the years. He’d even dedicated rooms to a specific war. Below the first floor was a room, not even Death knew existed.
He descended the short flight of stairs into the darkness. There a large heavy wooden door was securely chained and bolted with many locks. It had been carved with ancient signs meant to hide it from Death, a gamble he seemed to have won. Although he was alone, he continued looking over his shoulder. Death didn’t need an invitation to enter his home, and she could easily slip inside without a sound.
He unlocked the door and inside the small cellar were two men gagged and bound to chairs. Bleeding from repeated beatings, they barely had the strength to look up.
“Hello gentlemen, how are you today?” He mocked the men as they cursed him under the gags in their mouths. “I have good news, I’m letting you go. You both have served your purpose, and I no longer need you.”
He took his scythe from the holster on his hip and held the blade to the first man’s neck.
“Victor, I’m afraid when Death advised me to let you go, I tragically misunderstood. Screwing another reaper is disgusting in its own right, and you should have been under my blade years ago. So, any last words?”
War removed the gag from Victor’s mouth who promptly spit in his face. Victor Castillo was raised to be self-reliant. An absent father and a strong-willed mother who ingrained independence in all of her children shaped his outlook on life. He would eventually join the Spanish Army and die in battle in the late 16th century. He never took a wife, instinctively knowing his life would be a short one. Because of his childhood, he had no desire to leave children without a father. Clara was his first love and now his first heartbreak.
Victor remained stoic as War raised his scythe, not bothering to plead for mercy. The blade sliced clean through his throat but failed to decapitate him. War stood dumbstruck and continued slicing his blade through Victor’s neck. After the last try, he noticed the wound immediately healing itself.
“What the hell is happening here?” War screamed aloud in frustration. “You’re just a low bred reaper, how are you doing this?”
“How have you lived so long with such a feeble mind?” said Victor. “Only the Great Reaper can end me, you should know this Horseman. It’s not a rule she just made up, it’s law imbécil.”
“You have such a smart mouth, for a man whose girlfriend just got her head cut off,” War said, smiling as Victor’s face grew solemn. “Oh, did I forget to tell you? Death chopped her little head off for her blatant disobedience...keeping him alive.”
War looked over to the second man, Percival.
“You are never going to see your mother again, even in the afterlife. She doomed herself to the underworld for her sweet little boy.”
Percival shook to his core; this past week had been a roller coaster of emotions. His dead mother showing up and telling him he’s going to die in three days. She looked just as he’d remembered as a boy and knew things only his real mother would know. He told his wife he was leaving for a few days on business. He and Clara hid all of over London, waiting on a portal to America as promised from the mysterious voice.
War appeared, friendly and wanting to help with one exception, Clara. She would have to sacrifice herself to Death. Clara agreed without hesitation and hugged her son one last time. He opened a portal and walked him right thru to an alley in New York. He pointed him to a bar, gave him money for drinks and instructed him to wait for him until he returned. By then, he’d felt a pit of anger growing inside him.
After the knife fight War returned and carried him out to the alley. He found a blind spot and opened another portal. This one leading to the room he was now being held. War’s demeanor changed instantly, and he knocked Percival unconscious.
Percival’s thoughts were interrupted by the screams of War. The Horseman was double over in pain before his head suddenly jerked up to the sky in an unnatural position. With eyes now milky white, he appeared to be talking to someone.
“Master, I’ve do
ne all you asked, but the spell you gave me does not kill the reaper—yes...I see. We have to move now then, I’ll prepare the trap.”
War looked down at his scythe, “Useless.”
A loud knock at the front door surprised him, and he rushed to place the gag back in Victor’s mouth. He secured the room again before he headed to the front door of the home, arriving in time to see Samir step inside.
“Brother, I thought you were in Chilé,” said War. Samir’s face expressed only anger, and it was directed straight at War.
“I know it was you and I know who you’re helping. I will rip your heart out before I let anything happen to her.”
Samir closed in on War and lifted his scythe, preparing to strike.
CHAPTER 20
Dominic’s heart was pumping quickly, and his head was pounding. Death placed her hands back on either side of his head and took another look inside. It seemed that whoever built the wall didn’t want him to know his true identity. She now knew for sure what had to be done.
“You need to fight this, Cain! Look at me,” said Death. Dominic raised his head and looked into her eyes. “I’m afraid you need to fight through the pain and let the wall down. Claim your mind and your memories.”
Dominic looked into Death eyes and knew she was right. He closed his eyes and tried his hardest to remember. Now that he knew his real name it wasn’t hard. The wall fell, and Dominic collapsed to the floor. He saw his mother’s gentle eyes for the first time in years, but also his father. His screams were masked by the growing thunderstorm outside.
It took a moment, but his memories of Abel were now flooding through. The emotions from all the teasing and torment he suffered at the hands of his father and brother over his lifetime. That’s when he saw it, the mountainside from the painting. He was now looking over the fields and hearing the loud voice he feared from his dreams. He turned to see his brother’s face and the sharp ax in his hand.
“What makes you so special, brother,” asked Abel. “Your crops grow better, livestock stays healthier and when you do hunt your aim is better than mine. Why does God favor you?”
Abel was apparently intoxicated and conducting his anger towards Cain.
“Brother, please go home and sleep,” said Cain. “I don’t want to fight.”
This highly amused Abel, his brother had rarely fought back, and when he did, it was an embarrassing loss for Cain. He’d go onto the mountainside and carve tiny animals from wood, a coping mechanism that helped soothe him.
“I am going to gut you and skin you for father,” said Abel. He slowly approached Cain, his nearly seven-foot frame towering over his older brother. “Kneel and take your death like a man.”
Cain refused, this time begging his brother to go home. Abel objected and grabbed his brother by the collar raising the sharp ax high. Cain flinched waiting for the blade to strike him, but when it didn’t come, he opened his eyes to find Abel frozen with his arm still mid-strike.
“Are you truly your brother’s keeper, Cain? I don’t think you are, so kill or be killed.”
Cain looked over to see a young black girl standing to the side of Abel. Dressed in all black, she appeared to be in her late teens. She motioned to his left hand, he looked down and saw it now contained a large knife. Cain looked back up to the girl who moved closer to him, staring into his eyes.
“Your brother is about to kill you; do you want to go down in history as the coward who didn’t fight back?” she asked. “For once in your life, fight. Isn’t that what life is about, the fight to keep going. What else would be the point of living?”
“Who are you?” he asked. She gave him a sweet smile and kissed his cheek.
“My name is Lila, and I do not want to take your soul, you deserve to live,” she said and looked over to Abel. “I want his.”
Cain looked to his brother and back to the knife again, not sure of what he should do. As he stood on the mountainside sweating profusely, all he could do is stare at the blade as it shook in his hands. He probably would have been there forever, eternally struggling to make an impossible decision. As much pain his brother had caused him, he didn’t want him to die either. His thoughts were now racing a mile a minute.
I don’t want to die.
I shouldn’t have to die.
I’m a good person.
God, why is this happening to me?
He was brought back by a touch on his arm, it was her. She held his hand and stood in front of him with big brown eyes filled with sympathy. Leaning up she gently kissed his lips. He didn’t know what to do, it was his first kiss. He decided to kiss her back, mimicking the movements of her soft lips. The moment of intimacy was soon over, and she gave him a fleeting smile, wrapped her hand around his and plunged the knife into Abel’s heart. Time no longer stood still, and Cain watched as his brother instantly dropped the ax.
Abel looked down in horror at the knife sticking out his chest. He stumbled back, staring into Cain’s eyes, now brimming with tears. His back hit the hard rock of the mountain, and he slowly collapsed on the ground.
“I wasn’t going to kill you brother, I swear,” said Abel as his eyes slowly closed. Cain’s feet buckled beneath him, and he fell to his knees. Lila bent down and took his head into her hands, gently caressing the dark curls.
“I’m so sorry, but Hades requires your brother’s soul, and I vowed to do whatever it took to get it for him. It will be the most amazing gift for my husband.”
Cain watched as Lila walked over and ripped the knife from Abel’s chest, wiping the blood off with her dress. She carelessly tossed the knife over to Cain, “Don’t be such a gloomy sweetheart, you just beat death. You were the one who was supposed to die on this rock.”
She took a scythe and opened a small portal, just big enough for Abel to walk through. Cain watched as his brother’s soul raised from his body and entered the afterlife, not before one last menacing look directed at him.
The portal closed, and Lila was about to say goodbye when the sky began to darken until it was nearly pitch black. Storm clouds began to pour. Cain looked over at Lila who had fear in her eyes.
“Hades!” she screamed, but the no one answered. “Hades my love, open the portal for me, please.”
She couldn’t go in the same portal as the soul as she was an earthbound being. He had to invite her to the Underworld each time she’d visit. Lila waited, anxiously watching the sky until finally another portal opened.
“Thank you, my love.” She entered, and it closed behind her, leaving Cain alone in the storm.
“God, please help me,” he begged to the turbulent skies. “I didn’t mean to do it.”
The storm grew silent, and the rain stopped. Just as quickly as it started, the storm was over.
“What on Earth is happening here?”
Cain looked up towards the voice. A woman wearing a cloak with a jeweled dress underneath stood a few feet away from him, holding a giant scythe.
“Who are you?” Cain asked. She didn’t answer, paying more attention to Abel’s dead corpse.
Suddenly, the storm was back. Lightning and thunder filled the sky again, but this storm was different. The woman turned back to Cain with anger across her face. Her red eyes burned it his as he made his way to his feet, preparing to run.
“What did you do and why are you still alive?” she asked, but just as she finished speaking, a massive lightning bolt fell from the sky aimed directly at them.
It was the last thing Dominic could remember, and the most painful memory to work through. He opened his eyes and found himself back in the bar with Death looking over him, and he could tell she was in pain as well.
“You didn’t remember that either, did you?” he asked. “Do you have a wall, is that why you didn’t notice me at first?”
“No, you looked different from when we first met. Didn’t you notice how your brother looked? You were a smaller version of Abel. Somehow, you’ve been switched into someone else’s body, and now I have
another riddle to solve about you. I thought you were dead.”
The anger radiating from her body started the storm again. Ling placed a hand of her shoulder to calm her down again. The last time her anger was at its peak, she sank an island into the ocean.
Dominic didn’t know how to process the multitude of information he’d just received. For the last 400 years, he’d been dying to know who and what he was, now he wished he’d never known.
The silence was broken by the sound of someone beating on the door. Dominic assumed it was a drunk looking for his next drink, but Death had known who it was before the first knock. The smell of death had permeated through the air and beckoned her to the door. She opened it and stood before her was the man she’d searched the world for.
CHAPTER 21
Percival staggered inside the bar and Death caught a glimpse of the portal as it closed. War leaned out from the other side and smiled before disappearing. Ling closed the door and helped Percival to a nearby chair. Death joined him at the table with her attention entirely on the walking corpse seated before her. Dominic could feel the angst radiating from Percival.
“You need to leave, Dominic,” said Death. “It’s not safe for you here. He can still affect you, and I don’t want to have to put you down, again.”
A warning from Death should make any man run in the opposite direction, but he didn’t want to go. If he were going to be at her side, he’d have to learn how to cope. He stood tall and said, “No, I’m okay, please don’t make me leave.”
“Fine, but if you so much as raise your voice, I will kick you thru a wall and shatter every bone in your body, clear?”
For a second, he considered changing his mind, but in the end, found the courage to say yes.
“Okay, now back to you,” she said looking over to Percival. “He wouldn’t have dropped you off right at my feet without a message, so what is it?”
“Once I tell you the message, you’re probably going to kill me,” said Percival, struggling to speak. He was in pain and speaking made it even worse. “If it isn’t too much of a bother, can I have one last drink, please?”