by Wesley Brown
Reaper was put through many tortures by the Romans. They could not understand how he was enduring such brutality. Finally, orders came that the criminal Spartacus would be brought to Rome to be killed in the Colosseum in a gladiator match. The soldiers who had been torturing the Reaper wanted to see him die, so they did their best to give the other gladiators the upper hand against him. After he was given only sandals, ragged cloth to tie around his waist, and a manacle for his left arm. The only weapon he was given was a thick, old piece of wood. As if this were not enough, they stuck him into a barrel of freezing cold water until reaching the door to the Colosseum. At the entrance, the Reaper was shivering in the bone-chilling water. Two guards lifted him out of the water—one on his left, the other on his right. They dragged him to the door. Reaper looked out and could see the light of day and hear the roar of the crowd. He was tossed in, and the door closed behind him.
Seven other men were inside the arena. Three were well-armed and well-armored. Two were well armed but not as well-armored. The last two had leather armor that covered most of them but it was not like the metal armor that the first three had. Their weapons were poor, but still, a bad sword was better than an old piece of wood. Reaper was filthy from the dirt sticking to him from the water. On his hands and knees, he thought about when he was a younger man and a great fighter in the Spartan army. His long black hair on his face and head got shorter, lighter colored, and generally more attractive. His skin became like it was when he was twenty. His muscles even appeared more toned and easier to see. His youthful physique was not noticed by the people, as they had come for one reason.
Reaper made it to his feet, and a horn rang out over the Colosseum. The other seven gladiators charged at one another, except for one, who went for Reaper, sighting him as the weakest of them all.
The well-armed gladiator took his sword over his head and brought it down to strike Reaper dead. The blow fell, and Reaper dodged, sliding back. He then tackled the gladiator to the ground.
Reaper choked the gladiator with his right hand. With his left, he reached for the sword. He stepped on the gladiator’s right wrist and pressed until it shattered. When the wrist broke, Reaper took the sword and plunged it into the gladiator’s throat. Reaper stood with the sword in his left hand and the branch in his right. The gladiator who was only slightly more prepared than Reaper was dead, as was the other, like the one Reaper had killed and one of the three strongest.
The two remaining stronger gladiators allied and rushed Reaper. Reaper moved to his left and tripped the first one. The second was smarter. He stopped before reaching the Reaper and swung his sword. Reaper ducked and spun to his left. As he came up, he swung the branch backhanded. It struck the gladiator and broke over his back. As that gladiator fell to the ground, the other came back. He lunged, and Reaper deflected the attack. Reaper smashed the gladiator’s nose with his sword. The other gladiator was back. He swung at the Reaper. The strike was blocked, but not deflected. The gladiator with the broken nose went to stab the Reaper in the back. Reaper kicked the sword aside and slipped out from under the blocked blade. Both the gladiators swung, and Reaper blocked both. They pushed on him and he pushed back.
The crowd was at its loudest now, split between wanting Reaper to lose and wanting him to win. Reaper remembered his fights against Asterion and Set, and suddenly he felt stronger. He pushed the gladiators, and they started to go back, the dirt piling up at their heels. He gave one good shove, and they stumbled. He cut the head of the gladiator to his left off. The dead body fell to the ground, and the head rolled away. The remaining gladiator was now terrified. Reaper cut off the gladiator’s sword hand. The gladiator began to scream, but Reaper took him by the throat and picked him up. The crowd shouted praises to Reaper, chanting, “Spartacus!” The gladiator grabbed Reaper’s wrist with his left hand and splashed blood from his stump on Reaper’s right forearm.
They cried out for Reaper to kill the last gladiator. Reaper pulled the gladiator close and whispered in his ear, “It’s nothing personal; this is what I need to do.”
Reaper lifted the gladiator high, then threw him down on the ground. The force crushed his cervical vertebrae and severed his brain stem as well as fractures in other parts of the body and ruptured organs causing massive internal bleeding. What I mean to say is he died, quickly, and really badly. Reaper stretched his arms out from his sides and shouted a victory cry.
From this point on, Reaper was a prize champion of the gladiatorial matches. As he won one match after another, he gained supporters. His supporters made sure that he got better weapons and armor. After some time had passed, Reaper had made fans out of other slaves and gladiators. Later in the year 73 B.C., Reaper led a revolt. Seventy-eight slaves escaped after stealing military weapons. These men, led by Reaper, know to them as Spartacus, fled south to Mount Vesuvius. Others came to join their cause. It did not take long for word of what they had done to spread, and similar revolts came up in other parts of the Roman Empire. Soon enough, Reaper’s force was seventy thousand strong. While Oenomaus, Crixus, and Castus took charge of the slave army, Reaper became preoccupied.
Early one morning, around five, Reaper was walking alone, seeing if he could spot Perseus. A presence like ice filled the air. Reaper felt it in his bones.
“Reaper.” Specter’s voice carried on the wind.
“Specter. I am surprised that you waited so long to see me again. You must know by now that I have beaten Death,” Reaper said. At that moment he saw three wolves headed his way.
“I do not believe you have beaten him,” Specter said.
“Do you see him here? I do not,” Reaper said, turning to Specter. “I am stronger.” Specter flew at Reaper and pinned him to the side of the volcano.
“If he really is gone, then what do I need you for?” Specter asked. The Reaper felt something he had not in many years: fear. Reaper tried to break free from Specter’s grip on him. When this did not work, he called out again for Perseus. Specter pulled Reaper back and slammed him against the rock. He lifted Reaper with both hands high in the air.
“Reaper!” Perseus called as he ran to them in his man-like form, the scythe in his hands.
“You?” Specter now realized what had happened to his creation. He looked at Reaper. “You turned my own creation against me.”
“Not the first time, by my memory.”
Specter jumped into flight, dragging Reaper against the side of the volcano. Perseus leapt up and gripped the rock with his impressive claws, moving quickly after Specter.
Halfway up the mountain, Specter dropped Reaper on a level stretch, then flipped in the air and flew straight down. The ground cracked beneath them. The Specter held the Reaper down, then lifted his hand above his head. He was about to beat Reaper, but Perseus made his way up to them. As Specter’s fist fell, Perseus ran towards them. He tossed the scythe in the air and jumped at Specter, changing into his animal form in midair. With his four large paws, he kicked Specter off the Reaper. Specter fell to the ground with great force and slid.
He came quickly back to his feet. The Reaper put the dirty gray and brown hood up, then took the scythe. Perseus stood in front of the Reaper, all three heads snarling, practically foaming at the mouths. The Specter held out his hand straight to the side, and a staff appeared out of nowhere in it. This was the Specter Staff—much like the Reaper Scythe, it could be held by anyone, but could only be used by Specter. The pole was black and metal, as if it and the scythe were related. At the top of the staff was a bright, shining white skull, with a hellish glowing light peeking through its holes and cracks.
The Specter struck the ground with his bottom of his staff. He then burst into a run at Reaper and Perseus. The sound of hooves running started quietly, then grew louder. Suddenly, a large black horse came out of the wall, leaving the rocky surface charred and smoking. Its body was charcoal rock, burnt, with embers rushing out when he breathed. His body was cracked all over; you could barely see a fire inside t
hrough the cracks. His eyes emulated the same light as the skull on Specter’s staff.
The Specter leapt onto the horse’s back. The horse—Inferno was his name—stomped his hoof and panted volcanically. Perseus swiveled his heads toward Reaper, who nodded once with dull mutual understanding. He knew what he had to do.
He leapt onto Perseus’s back and prepared to charge.
“You want to do this?” Specter asked.
“Are you afraid to lose?” Reaper asked.
“Very well,” Specter said, sounding disappointed. Specter kicked Inferno’s sides, and he reared. When Inferno’s forelegs raised, that light inside his chest erupted. A tail, mane, and wings formed of fire erupted from the crack on Inferno’s body. He whinnied, then dashed toward Reaper and Perseus. Perseus threw his three heads into the air and howled, then sped to meet his enemy.
Inferno leapt into the air and flew over them, but Perseus jumped up and caught Inferno by the hind leg. The left head sunk its teeth into Inferno’s belly, and his front left paw clawed at Inferno’s side. Inferno let out a cry of pain, and Specter kicked at Perseus.
“Hold on!” Reaper shouted to Perseus. He leapt up at Specter, landing behind him on horseback. Reaper attempted to dismount Specter from Inferno’s back, but it was not working. Inferno flew down and knocked Perseus against the side of the volcano, and he fell off. Perseus tumbled down until he was stopped by a large rock.
“Perseus!” Using Reaper’s despair as a distraction, Specter knocked him off over the mouth of the volcano. Reaper fell in, but caught himself by thrusting the scythe into the rock. Specter came flying down on Inferno, Perseus diving in after them, as Reaper held onto the scythe for dear live. As Specter reached out his staff to knock Reaper into the molten rock below, Reaper pulled the scythe free and pushed off from the wall he had been trapped against. He plunged the scythe deep into Inferno’s neck, causing the hellish beast to rear in pain and fury, and wrapped an arm around its front to hold the weapon in place. “No!” Specter screamed and raised his staff, aiming for Reaper’s head. But then, with a fierce, hungry yowl, a bullet of fur and fangs streaked down the side of the volcano. Before Specter could react, Perseus had plummeted straight through him, swiping him clean off Inferno’s back.
Inferno turned to go back for Specter, but Reaper swung on top of him and brought the blade of the scythe to his throat. Reaper’s spirit soared—he had done it, he had Specter’s life in his hands—but his joy came a second too soon.
He didn’t see the wall of the volcano until it was tearing its charred, rocky fingers into his face.
Inferno had sped straight toward its side, knowing he could pass through it with ease, and had not taken Reaper with him. The horse vanished limb by limb, while Reaper was driven straight into solid rock.
Then, his hijacked, winged creature gone, he plunged toward the ground.
Perseus had been thrashing Specter around like a ragdoll. It was embarrassing for the Specter. Inferno emerged through both the rock and Specter, pushing Perseus off. Specter remounted Inferno. Perseus dragged his claws on a short piece of rock. Reaper dropped there next to him. Reaper’s wounds regenerated. Specter and Inferno had flown out of the volcano. Reaper climbed onto Perseus’s back once more, and Perseus pulled them out. They came out on the opposite side of the volcano from where Specter and Inferno were.
“Do you think you can make it?” Reaper asked Perseus.
“I think so,” Perseus answered between huffs and puffs.
“Do not try it!” Specter called out from the other side.
“Are you afraid?” Reaper called back. Specter kicked Inferno’s sides. The stone horse took one tremendous leap. At this, Perseus did the same. The four of them nearly collided in the air. Perseus fell short and to his left. As Specter swung his staff at Reaper, he felt his scaly metal skin break. Reaper had cut the Specter’s right arm. A single drop of Specter’s black blood dropped into the molten rock below. The tar-like goo began to harden and sink from the moment it touched the lava.
Specter turned Inferno around while still flying. Perseus barely made it to the other side. His back legs slipped, but that was only momentary.
“Perseus, we need to move,” Reaper said. Perseus took off down the side of the volcano, with Specter on Inferno chasing close behind. Inferno touched down on the volcano, his wings withdrew back into his body. Specter held his staff out and blasted red energy. They dashed Reaper and Perseus around the volcano in a spiraling fashion. Specter came up slightly behind them on the left side. The mouth on his staff opened. He pulled his arm back, then thrust the staff forward. A beam of energy resembling a whip flung out of the skull’s mouth. It wrapped around the Reaper. It was tight and hot. It burnt his clothes and seared his skin. Specter jerked back, and Reaper went flying off of Perseus’ back. Reaper was whipped around and let go by slamming on rock. He released the scythe, which fell a few feet from him. Perseus skidded to a halt, cutting the pads of his feet, but he did not want to be apart from Reaper. He passed by Specter and Inferno with no resistance—in fact, those two stopped entirely. Before Perseus could reach Reaper, he was stopped. Reaper looked up and saw Specter with his hand extended towards Perseus. A portal opened between Specter and Perseus. Reaper stood, took the scythe, and ran screaming. Perseus was pulled back into the portal, and then it closed.
“No!” Reaper wailed. Tears immediately filled his eyes and flowed like rivers down his dirt and ash-covered face. He fell to his knees and sobbed.
“Thank you for returning my pet,” Specter said. He dismounted, and Inferno walked into a portal.
“He is no pet,” Reaper said through his tears. He stood back to his feet and tried to wipe his eyes.
“Oh, that is true. I forgot, he was your friend,” Specter said. A howl erupted from Reaper in response, and he lunged forward, fist swinging clumsily, wildly, but Specter caught his wrist with ease in one terrible, monstrous hand. The Specter looked down at Reaper. “I am disappointed, Reaper. You could do so much more, and you let yourself be a slave to a time-traveling infant. You could be a god with the power I gave you. You are pathetic.” He squeezed Reaper’s hand, and all the little bones were crushed. Blood trickled down. Reaper grimaced, but did not scream despite the agony he was in. “Hmm,” Specter sneered, but there was a hint of respect beneath the surface of his words. “I could be wrong about you.” Specter pushed Reaper to the ground.
“Where is he? What are you going to do to him?” Reaper asked.
“He is where he belongs, and I am going to give him a reeducation,” Specter said. It almost looked like he was smiling. A portal appeared in front of the Specter, and he entered. The Reaper was left weeping on the side of that volcano early in the morning as the sunrise met him, as if the sun was the only thing he had left in the world to give him hope.
Reaper abandoned his rebellion. He traveled south and dove into the Mediterranean Sea, letting the currents take him.
Chapter Five:
To Be a Hero
For many years after Reaper washed up on the shores of northern Africa, he floated around from one place to another. He searched for value, but the longer he searched, the greater his sorrows became. During the time of the Roman Civil War, following the assassination of Julius Caesar, Reaper spent a large amount of his time in Egypt. Blink spent most of this time trying to find the Reaper. It certainly was a difficult task for Blink, for Reaper had made his presence unknown. When Blink finally discovered Reaper’s whereabouts, he was surprised. Reaper had settled in a small village in India. Blink found this out by doing some foot work in the ancient world. As he searched in Italy and Greece, he heard a story from Indian traders about a strong man who had brought prosperity to their village—a white man who had been living there for three generations, who protected them from outside invaders. Blink asked them where their village was, and they did their best to explain to him. It was not the easiest conversation, as Blink did not know many of the languages spoken in India. He got
a general area, and that was good enough for him.
Blink finally entered the outskirts of the village, still dressed in his Roman attire, including a short sword. Some children spotted him and assumed that he was an enemy, like others who had come before. When Blink came into the village, there were fourteen men holding spears up in Blink’s direction. Blink stumbled over his words as he tried to explain that he was looking for his friend. One man called for Reaper, but of course, Blink did not understand what was said. *151 [Without any warning, Blink was down and his vision faded to black. He woke about an hour later to the sound of a language he did not know being spoken behind him. His arms were strung up, and he was down on his knees. He did not struggle or try to get free. He simply waited. He heard one of the men leave the hut. The other approached him. Blink’s own short sword touched gently against his throat.
“I think I should inform you that I don’t need to be here right now. I could have gotten out at any moment,” Blink said quickly in English. The sword was moved, and Blink felt a slap on the back of his head. Reaper walked around in front of Blink. “What was that all about?”
“What language is that?” Reaper asked in Greek.
“Sorry, I forgot,” Blink replied in Greek. “It’s English, but it’s not important.” Blink teleported next to Reaper and lightly hit Reaper’s chest. “The frick, man? What was that all about?”
“You were caught trespassing,” Reaper said. “I just saved you.”
“Oh,” Blink rubbed his wrists. “Well thanks.”
“I assume you have a mission you need me to complete for the sake of the future,” Reaper said “…for the sake of the future,” Reaper snapped at his friend snidely.
“Wow, you’re getting good at this sorta thing,” Blink said. “I also brought you a gift.”