by Thomas Grave
The Reaper shook his head in disgust and then blinked to Sara, still huddled behind the big cross. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Sebastian, I need to tell you something,” Sara whispered, enunciating every syllable clearly. Her tone was almost pained.
“Somewhere safe first,” he said, reaching to pull her up. “We’re blinking out of here.”
When his hand touched hers, a tremor pulsed into him, and then a series of scenes, as if from a forgotten movie or a lost dream, flooded his mind.
Flash: Sebastian found himself in a crowded school hallway, one he didn’t recognize. He looked at the faces and didn’t recognize any. All the students seemed to focus on one thing. He heard some mocking and the name, “Makayla,” spoken in hushed tones. And a girl Sebastian had never seen before. Petite. Light brown hair. Who was this?
The girl ignored the crowd and stepped toward a boy dressed in a black leather jacket. “Are you okay?” she asked.
The boy’s tone was filled with anger. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes I did,” she said. “They’re morons.”
The boy went to his soaked, dripping backpack and picked it up from the floor. He shook his head with disgust. “Maybe I can salvage some of it,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. He opened his bag and took out what was left of a Halloween themed snow globe.
“You brought a Halloween snow globe to school?”
Flash: The school hallway receded, giving the visual that it was being sucked and pulled away from them. Then Sebastian found himself sitting in a canoe with the girl and the boy from the school. They took no notice of him, like he didn’t exist. The lake around them was clear down to the mud. There were mountains in the distance.
“A fish! Look! It’s a fish!” the girl yelled out, excitement in her voice.
“Lakes have those, you know.” The boy winked at her.
Something stirred within Sebastian. Something was familiar about these two. Then he remembered the news story. Hope’s vigil at the school. Their pictures on the television. It was the missing couple.
“Thank you for bringing me out here,” the girl said.
Carefully, the boy took a glass jar out of his bag. “I thought it was the perfect place.”
The girl tilted her head. “For something other than snow globes?”
Sebastian’s eyes went wide as the boy said, with more passion than he’d heard anyone speak, “I prayed you weren’t an angel. Or a vision. I wanted you to be real.”
Flash: Under water. So cold. Sunlight rippled from above. Sebastian panicked, thrashed around in the water for a moment, but then he knew it wasn’t real. It wasn’t happening to him. Not far from him the boy and the girl floated, their hair flowing around them calmly as they drifted away from each other. The girl’s hand shot out and grabbed the boy’s hand, pulling him close to her. She smiled. Sebastian no longer felt the cold. His heart was filled with a warmth he’d never experienced before. He watched them sink, as a single being, to the bottom of the lake.
Flash: Sebastian’s bedroom. Sara on his bed, just coming to, just brought out of the Light. He remembered this, but something was different. The perspective was wrong. He felt her confusion now. Sara blinked her eyes a couple of times, seeing a glass of water come in front of her. He felt her fear.
“Ah!” she yelped, knocking the water out of his hand.
The glass fell onto the floor, shattering, all of the water spreading out into a messy pool.
Flash: Sebastian found himself standing on the top of a building, the stench of Purgatorium stronger in his nose than it should have been. Sara stood beside him, and Jared across from her. Her hand reached forward, yanking a bag out of Jared’s hand. She flipped the top half open and peered inside.
“The snow globe?” she asked, and Sebastian felt her confusion. “But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.”
“It’s your memories,” Jared answered softly. “Your true memories. Just concentrate on its center and let your mind do the rest.”
Flash: Sebastian was back in the canoe, only the scenery was different, not exactly the same as before. It was more vivid now. The colors were slightly sharper, the temperature was slightly warmer.
“I—I know who I am,” Sara said.
“Who?” the boy asked.
“Say it,” he begged, his eyes misting. “What is your name . . . ?”
Her eyes rose to his. “Makayla,” she whispered.
“My angel,” he breathed, a smile spreading across his face. He rose to his knees and crawled forward to the center of the canoe. She did the same, and their bodies came together. His arms tightened across her back as their lips locked.
Sebastian watched the scene, stunned, feeling what she felt, the trembling to be held by someone she cared so deeply for, as if they were one being, two halves of the same beating heart.
The boy’s voice rang out loud inside Sebastian’s head: “When the Horseman ripped down the Soul, it was not the one he intended it to be.”
He paused and whispered, “It was you, Makayla.”
It was you, Makayla . . . Makayla. The name echoed through Sebastian’s head.
Flash: Wind swirled all around them as they sat in the canoe, their knees touching. “What about Sara?” Makayla shouted over the howling wind. “Where is she?”
Heavy rain thundered around them. The boy seemed half a mile away.
“She’s still alive!” the boy yelled back, his voice hard to hear in the loud wind. “That’s why you were ripped down and not her! She wasn’t even up there!”
Sebastian staggered backwards, dropping her hand. His mouth hung open, his wide eyes searched his surroundings, looking for a foothold in reality. He stumbled and fell to one knee. What had he done?
She—she wasn’t Sara.
Snap out of it! the Elder commanded. This is why they revealed her identity to her. So she’d show you and throw you off your game. Concentrate on the now. It’s not Sara—get over it! And do it fast.
“Seeebaassstiiian,” Jared called.
Sebastian shook his head. He knew the Elder was right. Makayla. He forced himself to think her name. He’d made her look like Sara. He’d done that. Ripped this poor girl’s Soul from the Light. Now, she was inches away from a possible death—a permanent death—at the hands of a crazed monster.
Something stirred. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jared slowly walk into the horde and thrust his hand into some poor zombie’s chest. It was a precise strike, directly where its heart should have been. Tearing his hand out, Jared held the Soul in his palm. The zombie slumped to the ground and withered to a lifeless husk.
“I’ve been waiting to have this talk for a while,” said Jared. He tossed the Soul from one hand to the other, as if it were a basketball. Then, thrusting the Soul in Sebastian’s direction, Jared’s fingers dug into it. Lightning crackled around it. Mist leaked out. The cracking sound pierced Sebastian’s ears. Then a huge burst of energy catapulted toward Sebastian.
Block that now, the Elder screamed in his head.
Heart pounding hard in his chest, adrenaline pumping everywhere else, Sebastian leaped in front of Sara, or Makayla, and ripped his scythe out of the ethereal. He held it in front of him, bracing himself. The onslaught of power came, striking his scythe head on.
It was bright.
Blinding.
Sebastian had to turn his face away. It felt like he was blocking a high pressured water hose. Or a broken fire hydrant the size of a house. His scythe vibrated in his gloved hands, making it hard to hold. He clamped his fingers down tight, as there was no telling what would happen if he lost his scythe.
The blade cut the blast in half, sending it past Sebastian in two directions, barreling behind him. His feet slid back a couple of inches almost into Sara, or Makayla, who crouched behind him.
Without warning, the pressure ceased.
His gaze snapped back to Jared inching his way forward. The white
leaf tattoos on his muscular arms flowed around his body, up his arms and around his torso. They shone outward, like super powered lighthouses, flashing at Sebastian and the rest of the Souls.
“What was that?” Sebastian asked the Elder quietly.
A ‘spirit crack’. Look . . .
Two zombies knelt, cowering on both sides of Jared. He plunged his hands outwards, into their chests. They gasped in abject horror as he ripped out their souls.
One Soul in each hand.
Two shriveled husks disintegrated into the atmosphere.
“Why are you doing this?” Sebastian called out to him, the anger in his voice heard by all.
“Why?” Jared yelled. “You left me here!”
Sebastian couldn’t let Sa—er, Makayla—accidently get torn to shreds by one of those blasts. He moved away, hoping to draw Jared’s fire. The plan worked. Jared tracked Sebastian’s movements and released the Soul’s energy toward him while screaming, “It’s been three damn days! Do you have any idea of what I’ve been through!”
The Reaper’s raised scythe absorbed the assault. Even with the power of Death running though his veins, he had difficulty holding onto his scythe. This time, still holding and blocking the attack, he was flung black fifteen feet, splitting a dead tree in half.
The power ceased.
His breaths came out ragged. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Makayla hiding behind a large tombstone. The leader of the horde seemed content to watch Jared fight him. Which meant that Makayla was safe for the time being.
The Reaper could blink and cut Jared down, but that wasn’t really what he wanted. Somehow, he needed to stop this madness.
“You had my dream girl,” Jared screamed. He clamped his fingers into the other Soul, cracking into it. “Robbed me of my opportunity of the Light. A chance to see my mom!”
Another blast came on him in the blink of an eye.
Again he raised his scythe. The energy struck the blade. Glowing white hot, blinding light split as it streamed behind him. Front leg bent forward, the other straight behind, he braced himself. An ache formed in his arms. As the tail end of the blast came, it flung the Reaper back into a burial vault. Its stone walls shattered as the Reaper crashed clean through. Still, he managed to land on his feet. He tried to catch his breath before another attack came.
“I’m doing what I have to do to survive here.” Jared clenched his filth covered fists. “I’m trying to get myself out of this.”
“That’ll be all,” Morose ordered. “I want him to witness this.”
Jared’s eyes shifted to Morose.
“Yes, Master.” He bowed his head and took a step back.
The Reaper’s gaze darted to the leader of the horde. Alarm bells rang throughout his body, heartbeat pounding rapidly in his temples. Somehow, the monster managed to get his hands on Makayla. He stood directly behind her, one rotten hand clenching her shoulder. One side of his lips curled with icy contempt. In the blink of an eye, Morose wrapped his arm around her neck.
She inhaled sharply.
“Morose, stop!” the Reaper yelled, his arm extended, palm face up. Her eyes begged him to save her. He was so stupid. If he hadn’t been so rattled by the visions, by her memories and his actions, they would have been gone by now.
Morose arched a sly brow. “Do you wish to offer an exchange?”
“What do you want?”
“You know . . .” Morose jutted his chin. “You want this one back? Fine. Then give me another Soul from the Light.”
The Reaper’s body stiffened. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?” asked Morose.
“Both,” the Reaper answered.
“I thought not.” Makayla gasped then slumped forward onto the dirt ground. Morose wore a warped smile, his eyes gleaming with delight. In his hand rested Makayla’s Soul. Her body quickly withered away into a mist and vanished.
“No!”
Morose held Makayla’s Soul gently, but his fingers twitched with anticipation. Sebastian took a few steps toward him and warned, “Don’t you even think about it! If you do it, I will kill you where you stand!”
The Master’s fingers held firm. “Kill me you say?”
“Give me the Soul now. Or else.”
“Or else?” Morose chided. “I don’t think I like your tone.”
“I’m not playing games with you.” His tone was like the cold of a grave. “Put the Soul down. Now.”
Morose raised his eyebrows. “Orders now. Tell me something, why don’t you just teleport over here and cut my arm off. The thought must have crossed your mind.”
Another step forward. “If I teleport over there, it won’t be your arm I take.”
“You cannot stop me. This is my destiny.” He waved the Soul around.
“Give me the Soul. I will not ask again.”
“You must understand, you cannot stop destiny. You’re living proof of that. You have fulfilled your purpose. Now it’s time to fulfill mine. Can’t you see that?”
“I can see you’re a . . .” Sebastian began, but stopped. He almost said raving idiot, but he’d held his tongue. He had to stay calm. “This is a no win situation for you,” Sebastian said, his words measured, deliberate. “If you absorb that Soul, there won’t be anything stopping me from cutting you down. I will reap your Soul and shatter it after.”
The Master gave the Reaper a cocky wink, his smile maddening. “I’ll take my chances.”
He slammed Makayla’s Soul into his chest. White mist exploded out, circling Morose like a tornado. Round and round circled the mist, becoming darker and darker, grey to black. It spread out from Morose faster and faster, rising up to the grey sky overhead, twisting and turning like a cyclone. From within the cyclone, purple lightning crackled, roaring like a beast being released from a cage.
In front of the Reaper, two bright white lights shone through the black swirling clouds. The Reaper stood in shock, not knowing what to do. One light drew the other one closer to it, closer and closer, touching now, until they became one, one light absorbing the other. The sky above clapped with thunder.
The Reaper blinked forward but was thrown back by a swirl of black clouds. This black cyclone must be some sort of cocoon protecting whatever was inside. The Reaper stood aside helpless as he gazed up at the swirling vortex, purple lightning crackling within. He knew he’d seen this before, on the night Sara had died . . . but she hadn’t died. Had she?
This swirling black cloud? This was what had awakened the dark power within him.
His gaze traveled to the horde, hundreds of zombies spread out over the cemetery. They stood still, impassive to the situation. His gaze fell upon Jared who seemed lost at what was going on.
Rage boiled. Anger consumed him.
“You did this!” Sebastian blinked over to Jared, his face crimson with fury. His hand pressed hard on Jared’s chest. Jared’s eyes widened as he was shoved back onto the dirt ground.
The ground parted. Sebastian knelt on top of him. He ground his teeth and pushed his former friend farther into a grave.
“Sebastian,” Jared whispered.
“No!” the Reaper barked. “You brought her here! N—now, sh—she’s—”
His hand shook with anger and he felt his power—the power of Life and Death—channeling through his body, from his chest, down his arm, to the hand that sat poised over Jared’s warped soul. His hand pulsed with power and he knew he didn’t have to reach inside Jared’s chest to destroy his Soul. All he’d have to do was allow his Dark Power to flow into this Shade.
A Shade.
That’s all he was.
Sebastian didn’t know him anymore. This thing was not his friend.
The energy flowed. Jared’s eyes turned black. His skin cracked and flaked, turning zombie-like, before fading to a dull white. The brilliant Shade tattoos faded. Jared exhaled, mist expelling from his body. The black swirling vortex still screamed behind them.
Sebastian, ca
me the Elder’s calm voice over the cacophony of thunder.
“Shut. Up,” the Reaper ordered.
The Elder did so.
Somehow, Jared found his words.
“I hope you brought some lipstick,” he said through ragged breaths. “Because you can kiss my a—”
Sebastian closed his eyes and pressed his energy further into Jared. Something surrounded Jared’s Soul, a darkness. A smoky cloud of chains wrapped around it.
The Reaper growled. “That settles it. There’s no saving you.”
This had to be the right thing to do.
He had to kill Jared.
From somewhere deep inside, deep below the chains and the darkness, Jared found the energy to shift his blackening eyes. Their eyes met. Jared’s words echoed in the back of his mind. ‘I hope you brought some lipstick . . .I hope you . . . Hope.
Sebastian was startled for a moment. He didn’t see an evil Shade. What he saw was Hope. His Hope. Jared’s twin sister. The Hope who had always been there for him, the Hope who had always loved him, even as she pretended not to, even as he’d fawned over Sara. He saw, on Jared’s face, the look of horror that Hope would wear when she learned about Jared’s death. Sebastian saw her crying day after day, endlessly, over her lost brother. He saw her eyes when she’d look at Sebastian, asking why. Why?
He gazed at Jared’s whitened face and saw a sad and angry boy, a boy who had been his best friend for years, a boy who’d defended him, even loved him as a brother. A boy whom Hope needed. Waves of remorse washed though Sebastian. The muscles on his face no longer tight. His hand fell away from Jared’s chest. He took a deep breath as his own voice reverberated in the recesses of his mind, Hope, I swear. As God is my witness, your brother will be home tonight. Alive and well.
With his power still inside Jared’s Soul, the Reaper gave a simple command:
“Live.”
The word flowed into Jared, ringing in both his mind and his Soul. Purgatorium ripples erupted from Jared’s body and spread in all directions lighting up the ground with a soft blue hue. The last vestiges of the Shade in his hands melted away, Jared’s Soul slipped back into the world he’d been born in.