by Darcy Lennox
Reaper
Volume One:
The Creeper Dance
By Darcy Lennox
This is a First Edition published March 2018.
Copyright © Darcy Lennox, 2018.
The right of Darcy Lennox to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, designs and Patent Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
www.darcylennox.com
Welcome.
If you are reading this, then Darcy has given you permission to explore my world. But not so fast… I don’t like cowards, and I certainly don’t like humans who will not fully immerse themselves in a story that reeks of blood. So, are you a coward?
No?
Good answer. But there is time to break you yet.
Proceed if you dare…
Prologue
It was a warm and foggy morning on the day that the fighting stopped. Dust swept the ashes of the dead in a deranged hurricane of blood and soil leaving a path of lost footprints in its wake. They dropped their guns and we dropped our hands. The fog cleared to reveal monstrous clouds ready to explode. First, lightening struck and lit up our faces where friends and foes could look each other in the eye for the first time – it was a warning. And then came the torrential downpour of rain that flooded our hate with longing, a longing for peace. Except it did not stop, it rained for an entire month. Some said the Gods were punishing us, but others believed it was a gift to cleanse every damned soul of their darkness and offer a second beginning to a new world.
But that was three decades ago, when the human world collided with the supernatural world. It was a turning point for the history books and the humans called it The Third World War, for obvious reasons but the rest of us preferred to call it for what it truly was the, Battle of Dust, because that is what we fought for, dust.
I will never forget the bodies, lifeless on the ground. And the blood, oh all that blood. The thought alone made my throat dry like I could hear its hollowness through my breath, if I swallowed it burned. But the truth was, nobody expected there to be a war, least of all us. We had remained hidden for so long that when the time did come for change we charged without thinking of the consequences too blinded by our rage. It was the Kingdom of Ilythia that attacked first, and then the other kingdoms followed suit, one after the other, star after star. The humans had never seen anything like us before but they were quick to react like all territorial animals do. They resisted, the humans had guns and bullets and other weapons of mass destruction – devices that electrocuted us, tore the skin off our bones, melted our limbs to the ground and other unspeakable things that will forever remain locked within the dark corridors of my mind. It was our fault of course, we were unprepared – how could the humans ever compete with us? We were wrong. So quick to underestimate their intelligence that we did not see it coming. Least of all when they located our kingdoms, took the war to our homes and slaughtered our innocents.
But enough was enough. We fought back even worse, creatures of the day and the night stood side by side for the first time in centuries. Species from all kingdoms joined forces, foes became friends and adversaries became brothers and sisters bound together against our common enemy, them. We stormed their cities, and their imperious governing bodies, and their wicked souls. We set raging hawks of fire to their schools and hospitals. Galloping tidal waves kissed the cement of their dirty streets. Great gushes of wild and fantastic energies surged by Stallites descended into bloodshed. I can still hear their cries, begging and pleading for their lives, but it quickly faded by the imploding black fire that clouded their skies. How dare they challenge us? We were superior, nature created us that way.
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, what should have been a single fight became a dangerous dance of ballerinas releasing bombs off at every spin. And yet, what had changed since the year of 2022? Nothing and everything.
Just like all things do, the war came to an end. But that did not bring back the lives that had been lost, on both sides. Our homes had been destroyed and the only kingdom that remained was Ilythia. Like a relic, it now floats in the sky as a reminder of the war – a piece of history, lost but never forgotten. People chose to live on land fearing that human rebel groups would bomb them again, and they were not wrong. Who would have thought that these human countries were safer than our stars?
Everything moved quickly. They, as well as us, knew that for us all to co-exist amongst each other then there would need to be strict regulations for the good of everyone. Thus, The Needles were established which consisted of a collection of beings from all corners of the earth only to interfere if the early sparks of tension became more than just that, sparks. Beneath them, each side formed their own governing bodies. The Cenomage and Delaboro officials from the Kingdom of Ilythia assembled as one for the first time in history, they called themselves the Stallah Society after the God of Light. Respectively, the humans formed The Organisation and they were fair, as fair as it got when sharing something that did not belong to us, their home. To begin with, there was friction – and hate, I remember so much hate and xenophobia from both sides that it brought people that would never have teamed up in the past together for the first time. But there was also understanding, and compassion and… dare I say it, love. But love was not enough to keep the world safe. The construction of our own governing body broke down a few years later. The human world gave the creatures of the night a new perspective on life. So many having been secluded to the darkness of the Kingdom of Ahkul – my kingdom – metropolitan cities like London were fast becoming hot spots for monsters. The climate was just about right with enough hours for daylight rest and a whole night to play with… as well as its colossal human population it was only fitting that such species settled comfortably in the Big Smoke.
But this changed the dynamics drastically for the Stallites. The Stallah officials were overthrown by a vampire clan known as the Daggertooth, appropriately named by their leader Zagan due to his distinctive fangs. Many members were murdered, others went into hiding never to be seen again. It sent ripples of fear across the supernatural species. What happens now? What will we do? How will we keep the peace? They croaked, everybody fucking croaked. But nothing happened, these vampires were clever – whatever it is that they wanted it was clear that they were playing it slow and abiding by the rules with the humans. As for The Organisation – they did not care so long as their species were safe from our kind and war remained a thing of the past. That was over a decade ago, perhaps nearly two. But the nights became colder, and the streets became darker. Both humans and the Stallites alike felt the chills run up their spines when the suns protective rays dwindled as winter leaned in. They hid if they heard the sharp flapping of a Bloodbyrds wings in the distance, and they ran for their lives if they saw i
ts monstrous horns ascend towards them.
Yes, the human world and the supernatural world were able to co-exist, but for how long? Could we really live in a world in which we could integrate with the human folk in our true form? A world that has only just begun to look at us as the bridge to a greater calling of unexplainable mysteries due to our advanced genetic makeup? A world in which – ah, who am I kidding? This world was fucked up before we came out from the shadows! Humans and Stallites are just as corrupt as each other, and we are starting to realise that now more than ever.
But there was also good to come from our collision. Stallite biology very closely resembled human biology, which came as no surprise to us but to them – they thought we were of an extra-terrestrial species beyond this sphere. Super advanced humans, vampires, lycans, nymphs, winged creatures that roamed the skies and all were no longer just mythological stories told to children. We were real. But the humans were clever, they had to be. They took scientific advantage of our extraordinary abilities and used it to progress their medical, research and technological industries to propel them decades into a future that they would not have seen for centuries. The evolution of White Spiders – androids that were used to police our streets – was the first human-Stallite invention to instigate a great technological movement across the world. Then came transport, driverless cars and underground highways were installed to navigate overpopulated cities and air space was made available to creatures who acted as people carriers. Houses were destroyed to make room for tower block apartments, the Stallah Society asked that such buildings be made habitable for species both of their world and ours to compensate the air pollution that would inevitably increase. Life for the humans had changed drastically, some would argue that it improved whereas others hated the extensive progression. For a short while, it worked but the harmony was only temporary. By then it was too late, we had all been exposed to too much and by the turn of the third decade crime increased, poverty became a lifestyle and the lines between good and evil – human and Stallite – were blurred.
Up until a few months ago… there were rumours, the vampires were up to something and just as I had suspected – they had been biding their time waiting for the perfect moment to attack. People liked to talk, most of the time it was bullshit stirred on by one moron to the next. So, I kept my head low and teeth hidden and when nothing happened, I hissed. These vampires were not afraid of humans, that was for sure, but there was one thing that I knew they were frightened of, me.
My name is something that people do not speak of lightly, afraid that saying it out loud would make them a target. I have seen the way people cringe into their skin in my presence, the way they recoil when I stand too close or how they instantly avert my gaze frightened to look at my eyes. The humans have likened me to something of a legend, simple minds caught up in their fables. But those who have witnessed the reaping are too afraid to speak… because they are petrified of admitting the truth. They call me the Reaper and they say that death and I are lovers – or so I’ve heard.
Chapter One
Before the war, the humans would wait on Spring with open arms ready to pull them out of February’s clutches. Flowers bloomed, greenery returned and creatures both big and small would wake up from their winter spree. But that had not happened in nearly twelve years. Instead, Spring was like an extended version of a milder winter without the snow, and the hailstones, and waves of wind so powerful it could pluck your body off the ground if you did not have the strength to keep yourself down. But tonight, there was a warmth in the air that signalled that Spring was on the horizon which meant that the days would get longer – of course it would never be like the Spring of the past. However, tonight’s optimism was so sweet I could smell the sugar.
I sliced my katana through the thick air blocking the nights sky and let the whooshing sound vibrate and divide the particles as they echoed off into the distance. Using my left hand this time, I sliced it through the air again allowing the vibrations at the tip of the curve to settle into my skin. Strong due to the nature of its weald but as light as a pen allowing me to use it with one or both hands for a better grip. I called her Deathclaw, she was gifted to me many years ago and I have never gone anywhere without her since.
The warmth in the air very suddenly turned to ice and my ears crackled irritably like that of a chewing gum wrapper. Vampires, they must be near. I crouched down to the edge of the rooftop and used my eyes to scan the surroundings on the ground. Unlike vampires, and other creatures of the night, my abilities excelled the boundaries of the extraordinary. I’m stronger, faster, sharper than any Stallite in the world. The dhamujki blood that runs through my veins is what makes this possible, there is no other being like me alive which is why the secrecy of my identity is so important.
A whelp caught my attention just below my feet. There – my victim of the night with his hands around an elderly man’s neck. Within a second, I jumped from the seventeen-storey rooftop and landed just behind the bloodsucker with only the wind that followed me down to make him aware of my presence. As if I had just interrupted a conference call, the small thing turned around in a huff.
‘What the f –’ he choked, and as he peered up to meet my eyes he gawped. ‘R – R – Reaper?’
At a sturdy five foot eleven, most of my victims were intimidated by my height. Not because they were smaller, or weaker for that matter, but because they did not expect me to be so, frightening. I smirked, it was always the same expression slewed over their pathetic faces. One of shock, fear and then a look I never quite seemed to understand – by the time I had sliced their heads off their bodies it was too late to understand.
I thrust my hand in his hair and pulled him off the ground effortlessly, he squirmed under my clutch knowing what would happen next. With my free hand, I pulled Deathclaw from my shoulders smoothly. He pleaded, and I ignored him as I slowly slid the sharp edge across his throat where I could hear the tearing of his skin like it was a violin cord snapping. When the blood began to splatter, I opened my mouth where it sent my pulse alight. The warm liquid trickled down my throat, pumping life back into my veins and colour into my deathly pale skin. When his body fell to the floor, limp with his head still in my hands, I let it fall from my clutch so that it landed and lulled next to his arms. The elderly man, who had witnessed the entire show cowered against the wall and held his arms up in fear.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to d –’
‘Listen to me very carefully,’ I pressed my body before his and caught his eyes where I could trap them with my own, his entire life storey beamed through the tunnel of his iris. ‘You are to go home, have a cold drink of water and sleep. Clear this memory from your mind, you were never here, and this never happened. You do not know who I am, and you never will because I do not exist. Now be gone!’ I hissed.
He swayed as he looked at me in bewilderment which then turned into horror as his emotions settled into the trance I had him under. In a second, he scurried from the crime scene and did not dare look back.
Out of habit, I picked the lifeless body from the ground and threw it into the dumpster on my left. Next, I threw his head into the dumpster too, lit up a cigarette and sighed. Vampires were naturally flammable, which is why they hated fire and the sun so much, with a small flick I threw the lighter into the dumpster and walked away as I heard his skin sizzle and hiss from the flames. White Spiders would be here soon enough to investigate, I smirked knowing they would find nothing. Vampires burn to ashes faster than paper.
His name was Cornelius Walek and he was wanted for the murder of Mary Brown who was his landlady. He had drugged her and then tortured her until eventually sucking the blood dry from her body in her very own living room. The news described him as a loner who kept himself to himself and always paid his rent on time. What they failed to mention was his violent history of psychotic outbursts that they would of course know very little about. But I did, because he had been one of my victims before wa
r broke out and today, he was finally dead.
The humans still had much to learn from my world, especially that of vampires. Unlike the traditional tale of the Reaper I do not collect the dead, I hunt down the bad guys and eat them.
Chapter Two
I needed air. That was the problem with London, there was never enough air so when I opened my balcony door, it only made a slight difference to the air inside my small apartment. I slapped the back of my jeans pocket in search of my lighter and put a cigarette in my mouth. The sound startled a little bird that was hidden between the leaves of a giant shrub, it squawked and then flew away madly. The balcony was skirted with bamboo sticks where the outer edge was built like a small garden with a mixture of fountains and overrun greenery that was automatically watered by infiltrated sprinklers twice a day. This was rich luxury, a commodity I was able to experience thanks to my abilities. As soon as the warm tar tickled my lungs my heart stopped beating so fast and the hunger dissolved, for the moment. I had very quickly learned that cigarettes where a convenient way of taming the daily pangs of hunger within – it was not always this easy to come by tobacco in the eighteenth century. Sex worked a hell of a lot better. Alcohol was good, but I have since stopped abusing alcohol because it resulted in one too many regrettable nights of chaotic bloodshed that I have little recollection over. Fucking blood, the thought of blood made my mouth water and my core ache this time. I took another pull of the cigarette to supress the urge quickly, I did not want that kind of shit tonight.
But there was something about tonight that made me feel uneasy, unlike last night where the air was gentle, and the kill was simple. Maybe it was the way that the wind howled in the distance, of course that could easily be the howl of a lycan nearby, but I would be able to tell instantly if it were. A pellabor – a gentle giant creature that resembled a floating sting-ray with skin that shone a pale blue under the moon light flew across my balcony slowly. The leather harness on its back was empty, the untied seat buckles clunked against the wooden floor and I wondered if it had gone rogue. I clutched onto the stone railing above the bamboo stick and trailed its tail as it flew into the dark abyss of tower blocks and city lights where it swayed elegantly between each building as if it were drunk. A smirk played across my lips, even animals needed to let off some steam every so often.