A Tale Of Two Reapers

by Jack Wallen

  “Fine. You win, X. But don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re hurling all over the subway platform.”

  “I am not a damsel in distress, Grim!” X reminded me with a shout. “If I need your protection, I promise you…I’ll ask. Until then, let me take this.”

  Before a syllable of a reply could vault from my lips, X turned and raced into the subway entry. This was not going according to the plan I’d silently formed. I’d always felt life required the slightest bit of chaos to not only shrug off the bastard boredom, but to prevent our minds from going to waste under the weight of the all-too-familiar. In this particular instance, however, I’d rather chaos back the fuck off.

  “Let’s go,” I barked at my cohorts, and took off toward the steps.

  In the tunnel, X was nowhere to be found. She’d had a significant enough lead over us, but there was no way she could have completely vanished from reality.

  Unless Fate stole her…in which case, we were all doomed.

  “There,” Darthaniel cried out, his gangly arm pointing toward the nearest subway platform.

  The black-souled woman was preparing to do the deed. I could see it in her posture…shoulders sloping downward, arms draping at her sides, head too heavy for her neck. A wave of panic washed over me. I rushed at the gate before realizing I had no ticket. The turnstile refused to budge, nearly folding me in half and putting a hurt on my groin.

  “Here,” Ammy shouted, handing me a ticket.

  I fed the machine and burst through the entry in time to see X drop into the woman and the girl wind up to jump. I raced across the platform, stole my breath, leaped into the suicidal woman, and pulled X out just in time for the woman to leap.

  X opened her mouth and the smallest puff of darkness seeped from between her lips. She screamed and hammered her fist onto the cement below. “Why did you do that, Grim? I almost had her.”

  “And she almost had you.”

  X stared at me, confusion lining her brow. “What is it? There’s something you forgot to tell me, isn’t there?” X sat up, her mouth gaping open as the realization melted into her frontal lobe. “If I were in her when she died…how would I get out?”

  “Fate. It happened to me once, and Fate waited until the body was six feet underground before retrieving me. It was brutal.”

  X clobbered my shoulder repeatedly. “That would have been nice to know, Grim; like in the first goddamn lesson.”

  “I didn’t think it would be necessary yet.”

  “Why?” X shouted. “Because you figured you wouldn’t have to worry about Princess venturing out on her own for a while? You could protect me from the big bad until the time came for me to shed my training bra and pull on my big girl panties? What other little lessons should I have already had by now? If I enter a priest—”

  I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, X. I wasn’t trying to demean you or—”

  “Well, you did.”

  The screams of witnesses finally made their way to my consciousness. The subway car had stopped and a crowd of morbid onlookers had thickened to witness a scarlet smear on the tracks.

  “Again…I’m sorry. Now, can we get out of here? Please?”

  X caved and led the way out. Back on the street, she turned to me, with arms crossed, and unleashed once again. “If there’s anything else I might need to know in order to save my life, now might be a good time to confess. Otherwise, I’m going to fucking take off and reap the first goddamn black aura I see.”

  The sound of New York did its best to break the tension between us. It failed. I reached into the folds of my brain for even the slightest nuance I’d missed about reaping…and drew a blank.

  I shrugged. “I think we’re good now.”

  “Are you certain?” X nudged.

  “Yes.”

  An elongated sigh escaped X’s lips. “Thank God. Being pissed off at you was taking way too much of my energy. Besides, I have a life to save. My own.” X wrapped her arms around me and pulled us into a warm embrace. Before releasing me, she whispered, “I still don’t need saving.”

  “Let’s find you another soul to reap.” I smiled.

  We spotted Darth and Ammy and gestured for them to catch up. As we walked, X leaned into me and said, “Okay, we can find me something easy to start out with. A heart attack? Choking victim…” X stopped, mid-stride. “Hey, have you ever gone a day without seeing a reapable aura?”

  I laughed.

  “No, seriously; have you ever been lucky enough to not see a primed specimen within a twenty-four hour span?”

  “Once.” I turned and faced X. “But it was a rather dubious occasion.”

  X’s eyes rounded and an evil grin bloomed across her cheeks. “Do tell,” she practically salivated.

  “Let’s just say I had a bit of an encounter that Major Tom was sworn to never divulge.”

  “No.” The voice spilling from X’s lips was Kathleen Turner-esque.

  “Ground control was never the same again.” I winked. “And you’ll never know if I’m telling the truth or not.”

  X twirled in place. “This is me choosing to believe you so I can imagine what it’s like to be in love with someone who tripped all the way to Mars and back.”

  “Earth to X and Grim,” Amnesia shouted from the end of the block. She was pointing across St. Mark’s Place. Standing at the corner was a small group of tourists…each of which was entombed by the black cloud of death.

  My heart looped within my chest. Before X could race off, I grabbed her hand in mine and said, “Wait.”

  X turned to me and, with disappointment rimming her eyes, said, “What?”

  “The elderly woman on the far right.” I pointed. “Take her.”

  “Why?”

  “Please…just…her.”

  X nodded. I released her, and together we rushed across the street, dodging through the maze of honking traffic, and made our way behind the crowd—X standing inches from the elderly woman. She looked to me for the go sign. I offered a subtle nod and X dropped. The woman shuddered as if overcome by a sudden chill.

  And then I witnessed something that had forever escaped me. As X was within the woman, draining her of the single most precious cargo, her face succumbed to absolute peace. The slightest smile tickled the corners of her mouth; the crow’s feet at the edges of her eyes smoothed; the tension lining her brows eased.

  She knew. In that moment, the woman reconciled with death. She reached out, entwined her fingers with the man next to her, and sighed. I’d never considered myself as fortunate as I did in that second of time. Watching an elderly woman accept the fate of mortality with such grace was a poetic justice long overdue. This world had grown so petulant and childish. To behold something so profoundly adult was enough to wrench a waterfall of tears from my eyes. I wanted to watch this film over and over, stay for the credits, and wallow in the muck of ennui that would most certainly prevail.

  X backed out of the woman, her lips sealed in wait. She glanced my way and nodded as her mark turned to the gentleman to her right, kissed him on the cheek, and dropped. The man fell to his knees and wept. It was his turn to know.

  As the surrounding crowd did their best panic and gawk, X tilted her head back and released the aura into the brilliant blue of the sky. The black mist danced upward, all the while fading to white.

  And then it was gone.

  That most gentle of peace was immediately ripped in half. From the cloudless skyline, a bolt of lightning split in two and latched onto X and I. New York City vanished, to be replaced by…

  “What the fuck!” X screamed mercilessly into the emptiness that was the NetherRealm. The throat-ripping sound bounced off nothing and everything until it faded to silence.

  “Please don’t tell me we’re dead, Grim,” X whispered.

  I shook my head. “Not even in a manner of speaking.”

  “You brought me back to see—”

  “You are within my realm,” Fate had altered
its voice, this time layering on a bit of soothing British dialect. The effect was smooth and creamy, in a Neil Gaiman sort of way. X’s knees buckled slightly. A jealous twitch tickled my right eye.

  “And so you’ve won.” Fate didn’t bother to wait for X to curtsy or wave. “You’ve bested the odds, and now you have a companion. How deplorably sweet. I suppose now you’ll want to start a little family of Reapers; have your two and a half with a white picket fence and four oh one kay.” Fate punctuated the final words of the sentence for maximum effect with minimum effort. “Shall I throw a party for you?”

  “I—” X started before I could prevent her from uttering that first syllable.

  “You what?” Fate’s voice dove into James-Earl-Jonesian territory. “You want to be the belle of the ball?”

  The light of a thousand flashbulbs went off. When my eyes finally adjusted, the sound of harpsichord and viola greeted my ears.

  Surrounding us was a gathering of Victorian-era party-goers. Crinoline-puffed dresses and starched-stiff tuxedos spun around the room…none of which contained a body. Against our will and wish, Fate commandeered us in a rousing spin about the room. An up-tempo three-four waltz threatened to send us flinging against the walls. The music wound to a furious pace, which demanded a Herculean effort to remain as one.

  “This metaphor is a bit heavy-handed, don’t you think?” X shouted.

  At the sound of her question, the music ceased and the uninhabited formal-wear dropped, empty and lifeless to the floor.

  “Can we please overlook that—” I started.

  Fate, of course, cut me short.

  “She tests me.”

  “Son of a—” I mumbled under my breath.

  “And so, I shall test her.”

  “I’ve already passed your silly final exam, Fate,” X shouted. “Isn’t it time for you to live up to your end of the bargain?”

  This was all my fault. Yet again, I’d failed to warn X of the consequences to such stupid actions. Never again would I assume the human race could fully comprehend the phrase tempting fate. They didn’t. X was a stellar example of that very thing.

  “You’ve unleashed a Scythe.” Fate’s tone smoothed out. “I want him.”

  “Here?” I choked on a lump of incredulity in my throat. “How? It’s not like we have the ability to—”

  “Silence!” The grand master of the Universe raged.

  X wrapped her fingers around the back of my bicep and did her best impersonation of a vise. A warm, tingling sensation dashed up and down my arm as my fingers slowly drifted to sleep under the might of her grip. I desperately wanted to say something to ease her mind, but knew the second I did, Fate would enter me from the bottom and wreck my existence as he robbed me of a certain virginity.

  “I want that Scythe…at any and all costs. I don’t care what you have to do in order to bring him to me, so long as it happens soon.”

  I laughed. “But I thought time was a man-made construct. Now? Soon? Later? Is the tick of a clock truly relevant?”

  My question was met with a chilling silence.

  I dared voice the question a second time, which was met by a tectonic rumbling that shook me to my bowels.

  “Yours is not to question why, Reaper.” Fate’s voice was gravelly and a tiny bit demonic. “You have twenty-four hours to return to me with that Scythe. Should you fail, Grim, your new toy is mine to do with as I choose.”

  Both X and I started to complain at the precise moment the NetherRealm vanished, to be replaced by the unforgiving city.

  “Well?” Ammy asked as she pulled me to my feet.

  Darthaniel already had X standing on unsteady legs, her face paling with every ticking second. I started to give Darth fair warning, but missed the chance. X popped and sent a chunk-riddled waterfall splashing to the ground. The brownish liquid splattered back and peppered Darth’s pant legs. I half-expected the man to rage against the system for chunking on his keen sense of fashion. To my surprise, he stroked X’s hair and calmly encouraged balance and peace; shockingly, it worked. As Darth caressed X’s head, she regained her legs and composure. I had been accustomed to Fate playing me for a yo-yo, so the journey to and from the NetherRealm no longer had any effect on my humors.

  “Twenty-four hours,” X grumbled. “How in the hell are we—”

  “Whatever the cost,” I reminded X.

  Chapter 15

  Pizza was always my go-to sustenance when I needed to think.

  Or do pretty much anything.

  After ordering, we took up residence in a booth to plan out the mission.

  “Let me get this straight.” Amnesia chugged her drink before continuing on. “Once again you’re faced with an imposed timeline by this goon you call Fate.” Ammy air-quoted the name…an act that made me want to duck under the table to avoid the crash-down of static charge.

  “Isn’t that the nature of existence?” X responded. “The second we are born, entropy takes us by the hand and dashes toward the finish line.”

  “What does Fate need with a Scythe?” Ammy asked. “Couldn’t it just conjure one up?”

  I laughed. There was no way to avoid embarrassing Amnesia. Fortunately, the pizza arrived just in time to sidetrack my outburst.

  “I’m fucking starved!” X proclaimed with the gusto of a Reaper who’d just reaped. “What are you smiling at?”

  “You,” I answered.

  X canted her head slightly to the side and grinned. “Should I be flattered or worried?”

  “The former.” I followed my reply with a cheesy wink.

  We ate.

  The conversation took a much-needed turn for the lighthearted. We spoke of music, art, philosophy, politics, religion…the entire intelligentsia palette. Near the middle of the discourse, it dawned on us the surrounding tables were either desperate to listen in on our views or clamoring to leave. When we realized half of Louis’ Pizza Shack was hanging on our every word, we deemed it necessary to hold off on mentioning the Scythe until we were in the safety of X’s mini castle.

  We were about to finish up the meal, when the door to the Shack crashed open and a hoodie-wearing punk entered, his arm held stiff before him to reveal a very lethal-looking gun. The second the first syllables left the kid’s mouth, auras darkened…including Ammy’s and Darth’s.

  I shot a glance at X and offered a silent nod for her to pull our cohorts out of sight. I stood and, with clear intent, pushed my chair hard enough that it crashed to the floor. X took the opportunity of distraction and pulled both Ammy and Darth under the table.

  “Howdy there,” I waved. “Didn’t catch your name.”

  The young man turned on me, his gun shaking…but I was close enough to see clearly that, shudder be damned, he could still pop me a mean one right in the forehead.

  This was one of those moments being a Reaper really paid off.

  “I see,” I continued. “Am I to take it your name is Gunny McQuiver? Of the Scottish McQuivers? It has been too long. You know, I dated your sister. Well…” I drew out the word and waved my hand in front of me. “Date is such a misrepresentative word. Maybe a more accurate description of my last interaction with good ol’ Sissy McQuiver was a hard and fast shagging.”

  “Shut up,” the punk screamed. A spray of saliva launched from his angry and meth-worn mouth.

  “Where are my manners?” I ignored the thug’s orders. “My name’s Grim.” I extended a hand toward the gun-wielding man.

  “And my name is Death,” the kid responded, and pulled back the hammer of his gun. “Now back the fuck off before I end you.”

  Without another word, I jumped forward and passed through the kid…holding my breath so as to not inhale the cesspool of soul that writhed within the punk. The action was exactly what I needed to dismantle the kid’s intent and will. The gun slipped from his grip and landed without accidentally sending a projectile of doom through the brain of an innocent bystander.

  “You can go now,” I addressed the
would-be felon with a nod to mockery.

  Everyone in the Pizza Shack pointed and laughed as a wet spot formed in the crotch of the kid’s pants. The moistened area spread across and down his legs before the guy could make a hasty exit.

  Once the prick had vanished, a round of applause rose in my honor. Louis shouted from behind the counter, “Free pizza for life for you, good sir.”

  I spun slowly to accept the accolades, to see auras returning their regularly scheduled rainbow.

  “You saved these people, Grim,” X whispered in my ear. I was so caught up in soaking in the applause, I didn’t realize she’d returned from her retreat. “How many times have you pulled that little stunt? And how did you pull that off without them seeing…you know?”

  “Honestly…that was the first. I assumed the shock of being held at gunpoint was enough to befuddle their minds into thinking they hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary.”

  “No way. You’ve been reaping for over five hundred years and you expect me to believe that’s the first time you’ve ever stopped a tragedy?”

  The words formed in my mouth as soon as my brain forged the thought. “It was the first time I had someone worth dying for.”

  X stood in front of me, a warm smile spreading across her lips. “I so badly want to be moved by your statement—”

  “But?” I prodded.

  “I know we can’t die…at least not by the hands of a gun-wielding mortal.” She wrapped her arms around my waist. “The sentiment counts. You’re my hero.”

  “What happened to you not needing to be saved?” I teased.

  “Still applies. But I’ll let it slide this one time. Besides…” X looked to me and winked. “I could have taken him.”

  “Of that, there is no doubt.”

  Amnesia and Darthaniel found their way out from under the table and joined in on the love fest.

  “You are so badass, Grim,” Ammy squealed.

  “I second that motion,” Darth added. “I’ve never witnessed someone preventing a crime in such a manner.”

  I leaned into my chums and whispered, “We should probably beat cheeks before someone arrives asking questions.”