Fanfiction ► Remorse [A KH AU Fic]
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Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
Well, without being sure what to say, I have for you all chapter two of Remorse. I hope you all enjoy, and I'm taking criticisms as always, especially since I'm obsessed with thinking I'm doing progressively worse. c:
Chapter 2 - Chains
Shaking as he stood, images flashing in his mind; before his eyes, Gabryl wouldn’t get over what he had seen. A man, another Reaper, a means of escape from his isolated prison, killed before him. Death was nothing to Gabryl, normally, but he had never witnessed such supernatural means of it; the Angel had blasted Lucre with light, magic as it were, and erased him from existence. Maybe it was because Gabryl was so used to direct fashions of it, but regardless, it made his stomach lurch when picturing the streak of ashes and torn clothing that remained on the ground. Folding his arms, he crossed the street, staring at the ground. Every time the headlight from a car blinked, or a streetlight changed color, he winced from the memory.
It had been nearly five hours, and it was late in the afternoon, his impulses already quieting for the day. It was unsettling along with the scene replaying in his mind. Reminded then, attempting to take his mind off of it, Gabryl dug into his right pocket, feeling the cool metal bundled at the bottom of it, and pulled it out by it’s chain. Gabryl looked around, and stopped walking aimlessly, leaning against a wall, near an alley, not unlike the one that he had done his work in the day before. Some sunlight, managing it’s way through the clouds, reflected off the faded item. Gabryl held it up high, dangling it by the end of the chain, and hung it in front of his eyes. He recalled the conversation between Lucre and the Angel; and how the former was apparently looking for this. Could he have used it to fend for himself? He didn’t see how it would be more useful than his own scythe. Squinting, Gabryl searched it for some sort of marking that would make it any more fascinating; all three circle-shaped sections of it, but nothing. He sighed, arms going back to his sides, and slouched, more lazily, against the wall.
Looking up at the thinning, still dark clouds, Gabryl began to tuck the chain beneath a fold of his vest pocket, when he noticed something out of place in the corner of his eye. A person; not necessarily different in appearance, but more, what they were doing. Down the sidewalk Gabryl was facing, was someone clad in black, running in haste, shoving others out of the way without a whim. It wasn’t very strange to see someone running, not by any means, but Gabryl was fixated on this person; they seemed to just stick out, but why? A moment passed, and he could make out that the runner was a woman, who had to be at least his age, with a long jacket trailing behind her. Her left hand; bloodied, and dripping. Gabryl expected her a murderer trying to escape the police, but there was something about her. Gabryl saw her eyes as she came closer, now on the same block; her eyes were shockingly captivating, colored a deep orange, or at least brighter than the usual shade of brown. He’d never seen such eye color before, and was able to observe them from a good distance away, due to his Reaper status allowing him improved senses in some fields, to an extent. But now she had gotten close, close enough that her eyes flickered up and met Gabryl’s head on; he broke the contact out of embarrassment, only for them to look back right at her. Was that on purpose? Had she seen him like Lucre, or was it just chance that she looked up?
Taking such a chance, Gabryl leaned up, standing straight, holding out a hand to stop her, or at least see if he could get her attention. However, the hand he held up happened to be still clinging to the Keychain, which he had forgotten to deposit into his clothing. It glinted once in sparse light, turning as it hung freely; and if it weren’t for that catching the woman’s eye, Gabryl would have been disappointed to think that she was not another Reaper, for running right past. Rather, she turned on her the toes of one foot, mid-step, next to Gabryl, and pushed her arms out, seizing Gabryl be his shoulders and sending both of them crashing to the muddy alley floor. Acting on practiced reflexes, Gabryl pushed back, only to be suppressed and sent into a roll; both of them fighting for dominance until the female pinned Gabryl to a brick wall, behind a set of trash cans, with him enraged and beginning to shout in defiance. Before any words came out though, a gloved hand, the same bloody one from before, clasped down on his mouth in force; he could feel sharp fingernails even through the leather. Looking up, trying to see his assailant’s face more clearly, Gabryl struggled more when a shroud of black enveloped both, making it pitch-black, and impossible for him to see. Something broke through though; a bright light that seemed quite familiar. Thin beams of it poked through whatever was covering them both, and, after hearing a few footsteps and a bored-sounding grunt came through again when the light shone a second time. Then, the sounds of the city returned to normal.
The sticky, bloody hand peeling off his mouth, the woman kneeled, then standing up, poised. She didn’t seem harmed by the encounter, but Gabryl was drawn to her obvious feature; having changed since he had seen her all of thirty seconds ago. With her back half-turned to him, Gabryl had a view of a pair of black wings, feathered, not unlike those of an Angel with a color change. Initially shock took in; Gabryl’s mind immediately went to thoughts of killer Angels, and scrambled up, gripping a scythe that appeared almost instantly in his hand. The woman, sighing, relieved, to herself, turned to see the blade nearly shoved in her face, and appropriately reacted; exclaiming, angry.
“The hell…!” Her hand shot out, faster than Gabryl would ever expect from another person, and wrenched his scythe out of his hands, flinging it down the alley, where it clashed against the close walls and asphalt where sparks flew off. They both watched it sail away, and before Gabryl could assume his original staring, had his wrist gripped and pulled up to both their eye levels; their heights nearly the same with her being not even an inch taller. The yanked arm happened to be the one which had a hand holding the Keychain, and she eyed it; inspecting it from the chain, to the flat circles on the end. With those orange eyes, nearly radiating some explosive emotion, narrowed to the emblem, they flicked back up to Gabryl’s face. He stared back, frightened, albeit with some calm demeanor, and blinked. When his eyes had opened not a moment later, he saw the world flying past him, or maybe him flying through it. He felt his cheek swell slightly, and the pain surge up in it, and having the breath knocked out of him when his back hit the ground, hard, and skidded against it, cutting up his skin and clothing. He coughed, trying to find the breath that he lost, and scrambled up to see her, with a fist still raised, holding the Keychain in the other hand. His eyes widened to see that she had somehow stolen it.
She made another move at speeds that he couldn’t comprehend though; jumping, or more like lunging into the air as she came for him; wings fanning out and keeping her balanced and almost floating as one foot came down on his chest, half-standing on him. Gabryl was once again searching for the connection from his mouth to his lung when a streak of black appeared in front of his face; a scythe, he knew, because of that way it was summoned to her. It was different though; the metal of it darker, almost black like the smoke that was present before it came, and it had much more jagged points, increasing it’s length. Still, it’s sharpness was not something to doubt, because it looked nearly like a line as it directed itself right at Gabryl’s nose. His mouth opened once, slightly, to let out a gasp, another cough from the recoil, but she was quicker than him.
“Where did you,” She shook the Keychain in a tight fist, “get this?” Gabryl grunted, and didn’t know why he was having a conversation with a person that only managed to manhandle him in the time they had been together. He felt more exerted pressure on his chest when he took longer to answer.
“I-” He choked for a second when the words came out, and she narrowed her eyes in impatience. “…Found it on the ground.” Her heel dug into his chest, and he could feel it bruising.
“No. The person who owns this wouldn’t just drop it-”
“Well they did!” Another cough, and Gabryl grabbed her ankle, attempting to pull it off. “The Reaper. He was running. He lost it.” She didn’t move her leg, and looked down, mostly unbelieving. “It’s what happened! Then…” Gabryl gagged on his forced breaths, “the Angel came and, he, um…” He happened to just realize the awkwardness of his story, considering the evidence that the female Reaper above him probably knew the man he saw killed.
“Dead…” She said, quietly, morosely, walking off of Gabryl, standing, facing a wall. He scythe disappeared on a whim, and her eyes closed, sighing. However, Gabryl was still feeling pretty much out of some big loops, all revolving around Angels and those chain things. Answers would be nice, but it’s not like he had any social experiences in the last two years that would help him get responses out of the girl. Getting up, whispering an exclamation when he felt his back sting, rose his voice to her, which wasn’t saying much.
“So…what exactly is that chain thing…?” His works were a lot more impulsive than they sounded in his head, because the woman didn’t react so nicely.
“Oh, sorry, just grieving is all.” Her eyes, eerily radiant, narrowed again, absent-mindedly twirling the chain around her fingers. Gabryl looked at her, almost confused, obviously not understanding that she may have known Lucre, or anything like that. Sensing how utterly clueless he was, her teeth gritted, and she opened them to speak. “…It’s a Keychain. We use them, so the Angels can’t detect us.” She brought a hand to her face, eyes closed, tightly now. “You don’t even know, do you?” Still absent minded, Gabryl gave a nod, eye twitching, nervous.
“’We’; there are more Reapers with those things?” He shrank back as she nodded, looking from side to side, holding his stomach; it hadn’t been convulsing like normal, due to his killing urges. He pondered the connections, and then the possibilities; if Angels couldn’t see them when the had the Keychain things, then there was so much more he could do, and so much freedom he could have. Looking down, then raising his hands to his eyes; hands that had been covered in blood many times. What if he didn’t have to kill anymore? The last time he defied his impulse, the outcome wasn’t very good. Gabryl shuddered a little, coughing, and the woman looked back at him, finished reflecting on herself. Her wings stretched out, and looked longer, black feathers long and wide.
“Here, just…we’ll go.” With that she turned, slowly, and Gabryl heard a sniff muffled by a flap, as she began to ascend, gaining a few feet every second. He shrugged said sniffle off as the weather getting to her, but was more taken back by the fact that she was flying, up and away, and he called out.
“Hey!” She looked back, annoyed, with a frown, only to meet Gabryl’s expression of worry. The body language shared between the two was quick and obvious, but ended up with both being agitated. Gabryl saw her motion with a shoulder, trying to push him along, and her mouth curved downward more so when he point behind his own shoulder, with a disdained look, half fearful of being left behind from being of no use, especially since she seemed to be inviting him somewhere, possibly to where more Reapers were located. She huffed, wings folding as she came back down to the earth; landing lightly but making a show of stomping to show how upset she was with him. Having landed without turning towards Gabryl, she walked on, nearing the curb and awaiting an opening in the traffic. Gabryl hurried after, all the while wondering why he didn’t have wings himself; and watched as she folding them further, the appendages going to her width, and then seemingly merging into her back, letting off the Reaper-styled smoky energy. All the time she didn’t seem to express any pain or the like in it though, and only focused on oncoming cars. He was wishing he was as fortunate to have them; Gabryl could only imagine they’d be useful for getting around the large city with it’s crowded areas, with the cool, moist wind in his face. Being able to explore everything, without the burden of his daily killing sprees; he urged to have that fantasy come to life. Fantasizing, Gabryl almost missed his companion crossing the street when a red light occurred, and followed suit, trying not to get flattened by a taxi.
“So, um.” He began, catching up to her, and walking alongside her, to her discontent. “Can I, have a name to work with?” She gave what Gabryl assumed was a trademark sigh, and tapped a finger on her arm, which rested on the other.
“Leyla.” Giving only her name she kept walking, leaving the air between the two silent except for the ambiance of the city. He expected some kind of follow-up to that, but ah well, he at least knew what to call her.
“Mine’s Gabryl.” He said, more wholeheartedly, not trying to demean her like she may have been doing to him before. However, even though he managed to give her this information, she didn’t exactly show any thanks for it, and simply stared awkwardly from her to the sidewalk ahead. “…In case you wanted to know.” He pulled at his shirt collar, uncomfortably. Gabryl could tell that Leyla wasn’t the kind of person to not take seriously or anything. In fact, her apparent attempt to demean may have very well worked on him, as he wasn’t too crazy about asking anymore questions.
Still, he was excited, to a very held back extent. Leyla was taking him to some meeting place, he had inferred, of other Reapers. And not just any, but informed ones; Reapers that knew how to get around these rules that bound them. An exuberating heat warmed inside Gabryl, realizing that escape, for all he knew, was only a few blocks away, in the very city that he treaded every day, for two years. These Keychains; there must be more of them too, than the one that Leyla was holding now, that used to belong to Lucre, and there must be enough that Gabryl could have his own as well. What if he could just walk up, and take one of them, no questions asked? His torments gone and nightmares settled, in one moment, just like that. It almost put a smile on the face of a man, usually saddened and gloomy, just like the sky above him; and in fact it was as Gabryl looked up too. Perpetually raining of just cloudy, he mused, but he didn’t care, just wanting to get to their destination, feeling like a child wanting a gift at Christmas; but it just meant that much to him, in actuality. In all his rare happiness, however, the bells from the Chapel Hearts church rang out over Amparo, reaching even the couple who were almost on the other side of the city. Gabryl craned his neck to see the bell tower, over the trees of the distant park, reaching their last ring.
Without a functioning watch, and without constant sunlight, Gabryl usually relied on the chimes to tell him the general time; it was fairly late now, as the encounter with Leyla lasted an hour. The bells fading, added to the peacefulness of this far-out area of the city, allowed Gabryl to hear another familiar noise; that of the Keychain, being handled by Leyla, as she moved it into her pocket, not having put it away before, keeping it out for whatever reason. He wondered why, watching it be dropped into her cloak; now a lump that was clearly visible because of said cloak being so billowy and long; even the silver drawstrings of her hood bobbing over a shoulder. Leyla’s strange attire aside though, a question popped into Gabryl’s wandering mind.
“Leyla.” She didn’t look like she wanted to listen, but gave a short glance to have him continue. “If those Keychains don’t let them- the Angels, see us, and you were running at me before…” Gabryl saw her pace falter for a moment, but keep going. “You seemed in kind of a rush, so,” Leyla’s eye twitched, and she winced, “I mean, did you not have…?” Leyla increased her pace, keeping her voice soft.
“My Keychain wasn’t with me, but there’s good reason.” Gabryl caught up to her, panting a little, tired from walking and killing. Eyes on her, waiting for her to keep talking, he gave a bit of a motion with his hand, which was caught in her peripheral. “What? I told you. Not having it doesn’t…it doesn’t reflect on me or anything.” Gabryl was becoming more and more suspicious that either these Keychains were much more special than he originally thought, or that Leyla here, was quite paranoid about things. Either way, he wasn’t exactly feeling welcome into the apparent inner circle of Reapers that existed, and was hoping the rest of them wouldn’t lash out at him like her. He dismissed her comments against him though, and looked up at the sky as it darkened behind the ceiling of clouds, turning more purple than gray. Gabryl also noticed that they were nearly out of the city; in the more rural areas, with the buildings decreasing in size, but not in the best of conditions. Coming to a crosswalk, Gabryl huffed a hushed breath when they made it to the other side, ignoring a man who bumped into him, obviously not seeing the invisible, dead person, and he sighed.
“We’re here.” She said abruptly, snapping Gabryl out of his sudden depression of loneliness; he looked up at the building in front of him, which really wasn’t the most impressive thing he’d ever seen. It was an inn; or at least a small motel, and by the looks of it was mostly made out of wood, which couldn’t have been safe due to the obvious age of the place and the fire hazards that were present in the bar-like setting. Gabryl was able to reason the latter, due to the advertisements for alcoholic beverages hanging in the windows. Walking, slowly, up to the double doors, Gabryl couldn’t help but recognize the place too; but in a very faint manner. He may have very well walked by this place before, or on multiple occasions, but the real reason for not recalling it was probably because of it not even having a sign on it; no name to speak of. A large wooden plank, meant to be some kind of sign most likely, hung by chains, in the shape of a three-pointed crown. It was cracked in places, but Gabryl saw no sign of it meaning anything; maybe invisible Reaper ink, he thought, giving a meek laugh on the inside. Leyla was going in though, so he went with her, absorbing the thick air on the inside.
The bar, which was immediately to the front of the building, was crowded, with tables and people drinking. Gabryl saw all the faces; different people, on man different levels, young and old, of all different races. When the two walked in, he noticed five or six faces turn to the door, as if defensively, but nod and even wave in approval at them, or at least Leyla. She must have been a regular, but Gabryl didn’t doubt it. She maneuvered though the people, and waiters, and even a drunkard here and there, until the both of them were at a desk, opposite the bar, in front of the window facing the street. Gabryl, feeling a little cramped, noted how deep the inn went back, especially since it seemed to be crammed right between two apartment buildings. It wasn’t even that tall; with a second floor that Gabryl imagined was dedicated to rooms for tenants and as temporary homes. Sliding a hand into her pocket that she had dealt with only half an hour ago, Leyla pulled out and flashed the Keychain to the wide man behind the counter, who was holding and cleaning a glass mug; he nodded and walked over, squinting at both of them and speaking as he came close.
“Oh, Leyla, see ya found him-” More squinting, and he eyed Gabryl up and down, fixing a pair of small glasses on his nose, and putting the glass on a dusty shelf behind him. The cloth he used to wipe off the smudges was stuffed in the large pocket of his apron. “Or, not. Pickin’ up guys off the street?” She sneered, but he only seemed to be joking. Gabryl on the other hand was almost jumping over the fact that people around him could actually see him; the chatting that he could even partake on; people saying ‘excuse me’ when they tried to walk past. It was some bizarre version of heaven for him. Turning on the spot, in his odd state of bliss, Leyla grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him over; she had been talking to the bartender for a few minutes, and apparently has described the situation to him.
“So er, Gabryl, she says that yer a good kid, so we’ll set you up with a room for a few nights.” Leyla gave the slightest glare to him upon his misquoting, and he only gave a smirk back. Gabryl noticed the very city-like accent in his voice, talking harshly even when hot trying, and slurring some words. The man reached into the same large pocket he put the rag into, and took out a small key, attached to a metal loop, which had Gabryl almost jump when he thought he was having a Keychain handed right to him. Much to his disappointment it was only the key part of it, but he learned it was for his new room, on the second story. Leyla grabbed his eager arm and pulled him away from the bar, down a hallway at the far end of the building.
“Leyla, will I, will I-” He began; his excitement showing, and acting like a child, and only making the slightest attempt to actually calm himself down. She groaned through teeth, clenched once again, annoyed at his newbie behavior.
“Yes?” She spoke with false brightness.
“Will I get a Keychain of my own? I mean, if you, and Lucre,” Leyla flinched when he said his name, and almost lashed out at him for it, “had one, does that mean I could too?” Thinking over his words, Leyla tried to bring up the kindest words she could, to the Reaper she picked off the streets, holding the Keychain of a comrade.
“You…might. It could happen. There are available ones but I’m not sure how delighted anyone is to just hand them out.” Gabryl gave a bit of a pout, eyes dulling, but they retained a brighter blue that had only managed to return in the last couple hours, and Leyla couldn’t help but notice them; she’s never seen such a color. Disregarding that though, she lead him up the flight of stairs, stopping at a door near the top. Gabryl, a little somber, guided his key into the keyhole, which had suffered numerous scratches from the key previously having been shoved around by uneasy hands. Gabryl was, however, at ease to see that his room was furnished well, to say the least, with basic furniture and the like. A bed, cheap television, table, chairs, small bathroom; all housed by wet, smelly wood. There had to be a catch to most things, Gabryl thought of it, sniffing the air as he walked in, turning on a light, and noticed how the odd shadows cast mixed well with the eerie noise of rain tapping on the window. Only on one window, in fact, that looked over the roof of the first story, out onto the street, which was quite a while away, considering how far back this place was. Gabryl then, for good reason, realized that he wasn’t just in some cozy place with a rustic feel; no, it really was just all crap. He heard Leyla walk in, observing the place herself, and switch on a faucet.
“Aw, he gave you one with plumbing. Nice of him.” She went to the middle of the room and inspected the lone light bulb. “Even has new appliances. Someone’s pretty lucky.” She looked down at him, and Gabryl, awkwardly, went to the bed, feeling the flannel sheets that weren’t even too itchy. “Unless of course, he expected you had no place of your own, and figured you’d be here for a while. ‘Few nights’, sure.” Gabryl nodded, not listening too much to her criticisms of his lifestyle, and turned, thinking too much into things again.
“How am I supposed to pay for all this, exactly?” Leyla sighed, looking into the tiny, cracked refrigerator. It felt at least cool on the inside, so it was good by her standards.
“Oh, well, Gordrid’s a good guy; Reapers get a considerable discount.” She smirked to herself. “Plus, I’m sure he’ll go easy on you, since you just moved in. Funds are hard to come by for us…” Many thoughts raced through Gabryl’s head at this though; like how he was supposed to make money to begin with. He had only seen Lucre do anything very direct about doing so, and apparently the consequences to that was death by Angel if you got caught. Didn’t seem very safe to him. The most Gabryl ever remember doing in the money department though, was taking a few dollars wherever he could find them from the homes of victims, and that was just to eat and live; hell, whenever he usually stayed in a hotel it was just him breaking into an empty room for the night. So many questions; his eyes settled on the clock on the dark wall, one of the hands with it’s tip broken off. God knows why someone would want to break such a trivial piece of a clock rather than just steal it or something.
“I…have to make money?” His clueless eyes, combined with the bags under them, and her general annoyance, had Leyla taking the trainee an sitting him in a chair, to which she sat opposite him.
“Look, you obviously don’t know much about being a Reaper-”
“But, I’ve been one for years!” He leaned forward, holding a fist up in anger. Leyla held up her own hand to hold him back.
“Alright, alright, whatever. Years or not, things will change for you, so you’ll have to get used to it. I’ll show you around, introduce you to some others, maybe that can handle you.” Leyla brought an elbow to the table and rested her chin upon her hand, realizing that she was probably coming off as a bully. “Look I just don’t normally walk around with the newbies, so deal with it. I’ll do all those things tomorrow, but I need my rest, I need to talk to some others too. In case it didn’t occur to you Lucre might have been a friend to some of us.” Gabryl looked down; if he wasn’t put down by her previous words enough, those about not noticing the importance of a death pushed him. Death, despite the morbid way he had seen it been carried out today, was still just another thing to him.
“S-Sorry…” He said, getting up, and moving over to his new bed. “Tell what’s-his-name I said thank you. I’m tired.” He spoke in his old, depressed, bored tone, but Leyla actually saw nothing wrong with it.
“Alright, you don’t have to get up early or anything, not like anyone’s in a rush. Do whatever the hell you want; just come and see me at some point.” Her tone seemed to raise when she spoke before leaving the room, shutting the door, hinges squeaking. Was she happier for making him sad, and expressing her discontent? And he was just warming up to her too. But speaking of warm, he shed his leather vest, revealing his shirt, with some blood splattered, but not much to speak of, do to killing barely at all in the last twelve or so hours; a new record for when he wasn’t sleeping. But he was tired now, and too much so to wonder so much about these Keychains and the other Reapers and this whole place that he was staying in. Climbing under the thin sheets, which felt so much more comfortable knowing that they were actually there for him, Gabryl easily fell asleep, sprawled out, flinching in slumber every time the jingle of a chain resounded outside his room.
Well, without being sure what to say, I have for you all chapter two of Remorse. I hope you all enjoy, and I'm taking criticisms as always, especially since I'm obsessed with thinking I'm doing progressively worse. c:
Chapter 2 - Chains
Shaking as he stood, images flashing in his mind; before his eyes, Gabryl wouldn’t get over what he had seen. A man, another Reaper, a means of escape from his isolated prison, killed before him. Death was nothing to Gabryl, normally, but he had never witnessed such supernatural means of it; the Angel had blasted Lucre with light, magic as it were, and erased him from existence. Maybe it was because Gabryl was so used to direct fashions of it, but regardless, it made his stomach lurch when picturing the streak of ashes and torn clothing that remained on the ground. Folding his arms, he crossed the street, staring at the ground. Every time the headlight from a car blinked, or a streetlight changed color, he winced from the memory.
It had been nearly five hours, and it was late in the afternoon, his impulses already quieting for the day. It was unsettling along with the scene replaying in his mind. Reminded then, attempting to take his mind off of it, Gabryl dug into his right pocket, feeling the cool metal bundled at the bottom of it, and pulled it out by it’s chain. Gabryl looked around, and stopped walking aimlessly, leaning against a wall, near an alley, not unlike the one that he had done his work in the day before. Some sunlight, managing it’s way through the clouds, reflected off the faded item. Gabryl held it up high, dangling it by the end of the chain, and hung it in front of his eyes. He recalled the conversation between Lucre and the Angel; and how the former was apparently looking for this. Could he have used it to fend for himself? He didn’t see how it would be more useful than his own scythe. Squinting, Gabryl searched it for some sort of marking that would make it any more fascinating; all three circle-shaped sections of it, but nothing. He sighed, arms going back to his sides, and slouched, more lazily, against the wall.
Looking up at the thinning, still dark clouds, Gabryl began to tuck the chain beneath a fold of his vest pocket, when he noticed something out of place in the corner of his eye. A person; not necessarily different in appearance, but more, what they were doing. Down the sidewalk Gabryl was facing, was someone clad in black, running in haste, shoving others out of the way without a whim. It wasn’t very strange to see someone running, not by any means, but Gabryl was fixated on this person; they seemed to just stick out, but why? A moment passed, and he could make out that the runner was a woman, who had to be at least his age, with a long jacket trailing behind her. Her left hand; bloodied, and dripping. Gabryl expected her a murderer trying to escape the police, but there was something about her. Gabryl saw her eyes as she came closer, now on the same block; her eyes were shockingly captivating, colored a deep orange, or at least brighter than the usual shade of brown. He’d never seen such eye color before, and was able to observe them from a good distance away, due to his Reaper status allowing him improved senses in some fields, to an extent. But now she had gotten close, close enough that her eyes flickered up and met Gabryl’s head on; he broke the contact out of embarrassment, only for them to look back right at her. Was that on purpose? Had she seen him like Lucre, or was it just chance that she looked up?
Taking such a chance, Gabryl leaned up, standing straight, holding out a hand to stop her, or at least see if he could get her attention. However, the hand he held up happened to be still clinging to the Keychain, which he had forgotten to deposit into his clothing. It glinted once in sparse light, turning as it hung freely; and if it weren’t for that catching the woman’s eye, Gabryl would have been disappointed to think that she was not another Reaper, for running right past. Rather, she turned on her the toes of one foot, mid-step, next to Gabryl, and pushed her arms out, seizing Gabryl be his shoulders and sending both of them crashing to the muddy alley floor. Acting on practiced reflexes, Gabryl pushed back, only to be suppressed and sent into a roll; both of them fighting for dominance until the female pinned Gabryl to a brick wall, behind a set of trash cans, with him enraged and beginning to shout in defiance. Before any words came out though, a gloved hand, the same bloody one from before, clasped down on his mouth in force; he could feel sharp fingernails even through the leather. Looking up, trying to see his assailant’s face more clearly, Gabryl struggled more when a shroud of black enveloped both, making it pitch-black, and impossible for him to see. Something broke through though; a bright light that seemed quite familiar. Thin beams of it poked through whatever was covering them both, and, after hearing a few footsteps and a bored-sounding grunt came through again when the light shone a second time. Then, the sounds of the city returned to normal.
The sticky, bloody hand peeling off his mouth, the woman kneeled, then standing up, poised. She didn’t seem harmed by the encounter, but Gabryl was drawn to her obvious feature; having changed since he had seen her all of thirty seconds ago. With her back half-turned to him, Gabryl had a view of a pair of black wings, feathered, not unlike those of an Angel with a color change. Initially shock took in; Gabryl’s mind immediately went to thoughts of killer Angels, and scrambled up, gripping a scythe that appeared almost instantly in his hand. The woman, sighing, relieved, to herself, turned to see the blade nearly shoved in her face, and appropriately reacted; exclaiming, angry.
“The hell…!” Her hand shot out, faster than Gabryl would ever expect from another person, and wrenched his scythe out of his hands, flinging it down the alley, where it clashed against the close walls and asphalt where sparks flew off. They both watched it sail away, and before Gabryl could assume his original staring, had his wrist gripped and pulled up to both their eye levels; their heights nearly the same with her being not even an inch taller. The yanked arm happened to be the one which had a hand holding the Keychain, and she eyed it; inspecting it from the chain, to the flat circles on the end. With those orange eyes, nearly radiating some explosive emotion, narrowed to the emblem, they flicked back up to Gabryl’s face. He stared back, frightened, albeit with some calm demeanor, and blinked. When his eyes had opened not a moment later, he saw the world flying past him, or maybe him flying through it. He felt his cheek swell slightly, and the pain surge up in it, and having the breath knocked out of him when his back hit the ground, hard, and skidded against it, cutting up his skin and clothing. He coughed, trying to find the breath that he lost, and scrambled up to see her, with a fist still raised, holding the Keychain in the other hand. His eyes widened to see that she had somehow stolen it.
She made another move at speeds that he couldn’t comprehend though; jumping, or more like lunging into the air as she came for him; wings fanning out and keeping her balanced and almost floating as one foot came down on his chest, half-standing on him. Gabryl was once again searching for the connection from his mouth to his lung when a streak of black appeared in front of his face; a scythe, he knew, because of that way it was summoned to her. It was different though; the metal of it darker, almost black like the smoke that was present before it came, and it had much more jagged points, increasing it’s length. Still, it’s sharpness was not something to doubt, because it looked nearly like a line as it directed itself right at Gabryl’s nose. His mouth opened once, slightly, to let out a gasp, another cough from the recoil, but she was quicker than him.
“Where did you,” She shook the Keychain in a tight fist, “get this?” Gabryl grunted, and didn’t know why he was having a conversation with a person that only managed to manhandle him in the time they had been together. He felt more exerted pressure on his chest when he took longer to answer.
“I-” He choked for a second when the words came out, and she narrowed her eyes in impatience. “…Found it on the ground.” Her heel dug into his chest, and he could feel it bruising.
“No. The person who owns this wouldn’t just drop it-”
“Well they did!” Another cough, and Gabryl grabbed her ankle, attempting to pull it off. “The Reaper. He was running. He lost it.” She didn’t move her leg, and looked down, mostly unbelieving. “It’s what happened! Then…” Gabryl gagged on his forced breaths, “the Angel came and, he, um…” He happened to just realize the awkwardness of his story, considering the evidence that the female Reaper above him probably knew the man he saw killed.
“Dead…” She said, quietly, morosely, walking off of Gabryl, standing, facing a wall. He scythe disappeared on a whim, and her eyes closed, sighing. However, Gabryl was still feeling pretty much out of some big loops, all revolving around Angels and those chain things. Answers would be nice, but it’s not like he had any social experiences in the last two years that would help him get responses out of the girl. Getting up, whispering an exclamation when he felt his back sting, rose his voice to her, which wasn’t saying much.
“So…what exactly is that chain thing…?” His works were a lot more impulsive than they sounded in his head, because the woman didn’t react so nicely.
“Oh, sorry, just grieving is all.” Her eyes, eerily radiant, narrowed again, absent-mindedly twirling the chain around her fingers. Gabryl looked at her, almost confused, obviously not understanding that she may have known Lucre, or anything like that. Sensing how utterly clueless he was, her teeth gritted, and she opened them to speak. “…It’s a Keychain. We use them, so the Angels can’t detect us.” She brought a hand to her face, eyes closed, tightly now. “You don’t even know, do you?” Still absent minded, Gabryl gave a nod, eye twitching, nervous.
“’We’; there are more Reapers with those things?” He shrank back as she nodded, looking from side to side, holding his stomach; it hadn’t been convulsing like normal, due to his killing urges. He pondered the connections, and then the possibilities; if Angels couldn’t see them when the had the Keychain things, then there was so much more he could do, and so much freedom he could have. Looking down, then raising his hands to his eyes; hands that had been covered in blood many times. What if he didn’t have to kill anymore? The last time he defied his impulse, the outcome wasn’t very good. Gabryl shuddered a little, coughing, and the woman looked back at him, finished reflecting on herself. Her wings stretched out, and looked longer, black feathers long and wide.
“Here, just…we’ll go.” With that she turned, slowly, and Gabryl heard a sniff muffled by a flap, as she began to ascend, gaining a few feet every second. He shrugged said sniffle off as the weather getting to her, but was more taken back by the fact that she was flying, up and away, and he called out.
“Hey!” She looked back, annoyed, with a frown, only to meet Gabryl’s expression of worry. The body language shared between the two was quick and obvious, but ended up with both being agitated. Gabryl saw her motion with a shoulder, trying to push him along, and her mouth curved downward more so when he point behind his own shoulder, with a disdained look, half fearful of being left behind from being of no use, especially since she seemed to be inviting him somewhere, possibly to where more Reapers were located. She huffed, wings folding as she came back down to the earth; landing lightly but making a show of stomping to show how upset she was with him. Having landed without turning towards Gabryl, she walked on, nearing the curb and awaiting an opening in the traffic. Gabryl hurried after, all the while wondering why he didn’t have wings himself; and watched as she folding them further, the appendages going to her width, and then seemingly merging into her back, letting off the Reaper-styled smoky energy. All the time she didn’t seem to express any pain or the like in it though, and only focused on oncoming cars. He was wishing he was as fortunate to have them; Gabryl could only imagine they’d be useful for getting around the large city with it’s crowded areas, with the cool, moist wind in his face. Being able to explore everything, without the burden of his daily killing sprees; he urged to have that fantasy come to life. Fantasizing, Gabryl almost missed his companion crossing the street when a red light occurred, and followed suit, trying not to get flattened by a taxi.
“So, um.” He began, catching up to her, and walking alongside her, to her discontent. “Can I, have a name to work with?” She gave what Gabryl assumed was a trademark sigh, and tapped a finger on her arm, which rested on the other.
“Leyla.” Giving only her name she kept walking, leaving the air between the two silent except for the ambiance of the city. He expected some kind of follow-up to that, but ah well, he at least knew what to call her.
“Mine’s Gabryl.” He said, more wholeheartedly, not trying to demean her like she may have been doing to him before. However, even though he managed to give her this information, she didn’t exactly show any thanks for it, and simply stared awkwardly from her to the sidewalk ahead. “…In case you wanted to know.” He pulled at his shirt collar, uncomfortably. Gabryl could tell that Leyla wasn’t the kind of person to not take seriously or anything. In fact, her apparent attempt to demean may have very well worked on him, as he wasn’t too crazy about asking anymore questions.
Still, he was excited, to a very held back extent. Leyla was taking him to some meeting place, he had inferred, of other Reapers. And not just any, but informed ones; Reapers that knew how to get around these rules that bound them. An exuberating heat warmed inside Gabryl, realizing that escape, for all he knew, was only a few blocks away, in the very city that he treaded every day, for two years. These Keychains; there must be more of them too, than the one that Leyla was holding now, that used to belong to Lucre, and there must be enough that Gabryl could have his own as well. What if he could just walk up, and take one of them, no questions asked? His torments gone and nightmares settled, in one moment, just like that. It almost put a smile on the face of a man, usually saddened and gloomy, just like the sky above him; and in fact it was as Gabryl looked up too. Perpetually raining of just cloudy, he mused, but he didn’t care, just wanting to get to their destination, feeling like a child wanting a gift at Christmas; but it just meant that much to him, in actuality. In all his rare happiness, however, the bells from the Chapel Hearts church rang out over Amparo, reaching even the couple who were almost on the other side of the city. Gabryl craned his neck to see the bell tower, over the trees of the distant park, reaching their last ring.
Without a functioning watch, and without constant sunlight, Gabryl usually relied on the chimes to tell him the general time; it was fairly late now, as the encounter with Leyla lasted an hour. The bells fading, added to the peacefulness of this far-out area of the city, allowed Gabryl to hear another familiar noise; that of the Keychain, being handled by Leyla, as she moved it into her pocket, not having put it away before, keeping it out for whatever reason. He wondered why, watching it be dropped into her cloak; now a lump that was clearly visible because of said cloak being so billowy and long; even the silver drawstrings of her hood bobbing over a shoulder. Leyla’s strange attire aside though, a question popped into Gabryl’s wandering mind.
“Leyla.” She didn’t look like she wanted to listen, but gave a short glance to have him continue. “If those Keychains don’t let them- the Angels, see us, and you were running at me before…” Gabryl saw her pace falter for a moment, but keep going. “You seemed in kind of a rush, so,” Leyla’s eye twitched, and she winced, “I mean, did you not have…?” Leyla increased her pace, keeping her voice soft.
“My Keychain wasn’t with me, but there’s good reason.” Gabryl caught up to her, panting a little, tired from walking and killing. Eyes on her, waiting for her to keep talking, he gave a bit of a motion with his hand, which was caught in her peripheral. “What? I told you. Not having it doesn’t…it doesn’t reflect on me or anything.” Gabryl was becoming more and more suspicious that either these Keychains were much more special than he originally thought, or that Leyla here, was quite paranoid about things. Either way, he wasn’t exactly feeling welcome into the apparent inner circle of Reapers that existed, and was hoping the rest of them wouldn’t lash out at him like her. He dismissed her comments against him though, and looked up at the sky as it darkened behind the ceiling of clouds, turning more purple than gray. Gabryl also noticed that they were nearly out of the city; in the more rural areas, with the buildings decreasing in size, but not in the best of conditions. Coming to a crosswalk, Gabryl huffed a hushed breath when they made it to the other side, ignoring a man who bumped into him, obviously not seeing the invisible, dead person, and he sighed.
“We’re here.” She said abruptly, snapping Gabryl out of his sudden depression of loneliness; he looked up at the building in front of him, which really wasn’t the most impressive thing he’d ever seen. It was an inn; or at least a small motel, and by the looks of it was mostly made out of wood, which couldn’t have been safe due to the obvious age of the place and the fire hazards that were present in the bar-like setting. Gabryl was able to reason the latter, due to the advertisements for alcoholic beverages hanging in the windows. Walking, slowly, up to the double doors, Gabryl couldn’t help but recognize the place too; but in a very faint manner. He may have very well walked by this place before, or on multiple occasions, but the real reason for not recalling it was probably because of it not even having a sign on it; no name to speak of. A large wooden plank, meant to be some kind of sign most likely, hung by chains, in the shape of a three-pointed crown. It was cracked in places, but Gabryl saw no sign of it meaning anything; maybe invisible Reaper ink, he thought, giving a meek laugh on the inside. Leyla was going in though, so he went with her, absorbing the thick air on the inside.
The bar, which was immediately to the front of the building, was crowded, with tables and people drinking. Gabryl saw all the faces; different people, on man different levels, young and old, of all different races. When the two walked in, he noticed five or six faces turn to the door, as if defensively, but nod and even wave in approval at them, or at least Leyla. She must have been a regular, but Gabryl didn’t doubt it. She maneuvered though the people, and waiters, and even a drunkard here and there, until the both of them were at a desk, opposite the bar, in front of the window facing the street. Gabryl, feeling a little cramped, noted how deep the inn went back, especially since it seemed to be crammed right between two apartment buildings. It wasn’t even that tall; with a second floor that Gabryl imagined was dedicated to rooms for tenants and as temporary homes. Sliding a hand into her pocket that she had dealt with only half an hour ago, Leyla pulled out and flashed the Keychain to the wide man behind the counter, who was holding and cleaning a glass mug; he nodded and walked over, squinting at both of them and speaking as he came close.
“Oh, Leyla, see ya found him-” More squinting, and he eyed Gabryl up and down, fixing a pair of small glasses on his nose, and putting the glass on a dusty shelf behind him. The cloth he used to wipe off the smudges was stuffed in the large pocket of his apron. “Or, not. Pickin’ up guys off the street?” She sneered, but he only seemed to be joking. Gabryl on the other hand was almost jumping over the fact that people around him could actually see him; the chatting that he could even partake on; people saying ‘excuse me’ when they tried to walk past. It was some bizarre version of heaven for him. Turning on the spot, in his odd state of bliss, Leyla grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him over; she had been talking to the bartender for a few minutes, and apparently has described the situation to him.
“So er, Gabryl, she says that yer a good kid, so we’ll set you up with a room for a few nights.” Leyla gave the slightest glare to him upon his misquoting, and he only gave a smirk back. Gabryl noticed the very city-like accent in his voice, talking harshly even when hot trying, and slurring some words. The man reached into the same large pocket he put the rag into, and took out a small key, attached to a metal loop, which had Gabryl almost jump when he thought he was having a Keychain handed right to him. Much to his disappointment it was only the key part of it, but he learned it was for his new room, on the second story. Leyla grabbed his eager arm and pulled him away from the bar, down a hallway at the far end of the building.
“Leyla, will I, will I-” He began; his excitement showing, and acting like a child, and only making the slightest attempt to actually calm himself down. She groaned through teeth, clenched once again, annoyed at his newbie behavior.
“Yes?” She spoke with false brightness.
“Will I get a Keychain of my own? I mean, if you, and Lucre,” Leyla flinched when he said his name, and almost lashed out at him for it, “had one, does that mean I could too?” Thinking over his words, Leyla tried to bring up the kindest words she could, to the Reaper she picked off the streets, holding the Keychain of a comrade.
“You…might. It could happen. There are available ones but I’m not sure how delighted anyone is to just hand them out.” Gabryl gave a bit of a pout, eyes dulling, but they retained a brighter blue that had only managed to return in the last couple hours, and Leyla couldn’t help but notice them; she’s never seen such a color. Disregarding that though, she lead him up the flight of stairs, stopping at a door near the top. Gabryl, a little somber, guided his key into the keyhole, which had suffered numerous scratches from the key previously having been shoved around by uneasy hands. Gabryl was, however, at ease to see that his room was furnished well, to say the least, with basic furniture and the like. A bed, cheap television, table, chairs, small bathroom; all housed by wet, smelly wood. There had to be a catch to most things, Gabryl thought of it, sniffing the air as he walked in, turning on a light, and noticed how the odd shadows cast mixed well with the eerie noise of rain tapping on the window. Only on one window, in fact, that looked over the roof of the first story, out onto the street, which was quite a while away, considering how far back this place was. Gabryl then, for good reason, realized that he wasn’t just in some cozy place with a rustic feel; no, it really was just all crap. He heard Leyla walk in, observing the place herself, and switch on a faucet.
“Aw, he gave you one with plumbing. Nice of him.” She went to the middle of the room and inspected the lone light bulb. “Even has new appliances. Someone’s pretty lucky.” She looked down at him, and Gabryl, awkwardly, went to the bed, feeling the flannel sheets that weren’t even too itchy. “Unless of course, he expected you had no place of your own, and figured you’d be here for a while. ‘Few nights’, sure.” Gabryl nodded, not listening too much to her criticisms of his lifestyle, and turned, thinking too much into things again.
“How am I supposed to pay for all this, exactly?” Leyla sighed, looking into the tiny, cracked refrigerator. It felt at least cool on the inside, so it was good by her standards.
“Oh, well, Gordrid’s a good guy; Reapers get a considerable discount.” She smirked to herself. “Plus, I’m sure he’ll go easy on you, since you just moved in. Funds are hard to come by for us…” Many thoughts raced through Gabryl’s head at this though; like how he was supposed to make money to begin with. He had only seen Lucre do anything very direct about doing so, and apparently the consequences to that was death by Angel if you got caught. Didn’t seem very safe to him. The most Gabryl ever remember doing in the money department though, was taking a few dollars wherever he could find them from the homes of victims, and that was just to eat and live; hell, whenever he usually stayed in a hotel it was just him breaking into an empty room for the night. So many questions; his eyes settled on the clock on the dark wall, one of the hands with it’s tip broken off. God knows why someone would want to break such a trivial piece of a clock rather than just steal it or something.
“I…have to make money?” His clueless eyes, combined with the bags under them, and her general annoyance, had Leyla taking the trainee an sitting him in a chair, to which she sat opposite him.
“Look, you obviously don’t know much about being a Reaper-”
“But, I’ve been one for years!” He leaned forward, holding a fist up in anger. Leyla held up her own hand to hold him back.
“Alright, alright, whatever. Years or not, things will change for you, so you’ll have to get used to it. I’ll show you around, introduce you to some others, maybe that can handle you.” Leyla brought an elbow to the table and rested her chin upon her hand, realizing that she was probably coming off as a bully. “Look I just don’t normally walk around with the newbies, so deal with it. I’ll do all those things tomorrow, but I need my rest, I need to talk to some others too. In case it didn’t occur to you Lucre might have been a friend to some of us.” Gabryl looked down; if he wasn’t put down by her previous words enough, those about not noticing the importance of a death pushed him. Death, despite the morbid way he had seen it been carried out today, was still just another thing to him.
“S-Sorry…” He said, getting up, and moving over to his new bed. “Tell what’s-his-name I said thank you. I’m tired.” He spoke in his old, depressed, bored tone, but Leyla actually saw nothing wrong with it.
“Alright, you don’t have to get up early or anything, not like anyone’s in a rush. Do whatever the hell you want; just come and see me at some point.” Her tone seemed to raise when she spoke before leaving the room, shutting the door, hinges squeaking. Was she happier for making him sad, and expressing her discontent? And he was just warming up to her too. But speaking of warm, he shed his leather vest, revealing his shirt, with some blood splattered, but not much to speak of, do to killing barely at all in the last twelve or so hours; a new record for when he wasn’t sleeping. But he was tired now, and too much so to wonder so much about these Keychains and the other Reapers and this whole place that he was staying in. Climbing under the thin sheets, which felt so much more comfortable knowing that they were actually there for him, Gabryl easily fell asleep, sprawled out, flinching in slumber every time the jingle of a chain resounded outside his room.
Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
I got here as fast as I could.
I like it joe, ready to read some more :]
∞;4349657 said:
I got here as fast as I could.
I like it joe, ready to read some more :]
Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
Pfft liek you read all 2 already.
Okay actually I'd believe that just humor me
Pfft liek you read all 2 already.
Okay actually I'd believe that just humor me
Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
Jezza you are are-so very kind to me.
Jezza you are are-so very kind to me.
Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
Ah yes I often get those two confused.
Chapter three is in the works already if anyone is interested.
Ah yes I often get those two confused.
Chapter three is in the works already if anyone is interested.
Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
I feel all-powerful holding the spoilers in my hand then.
I feel all-powerful holding the spoilers in my hand then.
Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
BUT THEN I'LL HAVE THE NEXT
and the next
and the next and the next and the next one
BUT THEN I'LL HAVE THE NEXT
and the next
and the next and the next and the next one
Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
That is why I am introducing a large furry dragon in the next chapter.
Jenni gaaaawd jeez.
∞;4358311 said:
That is why I am introducing a large furry dragon in the next chapter.
Baww, I haven't had time to read the second chapter. ;_;
BUT I WILL
Or at least try to.
Jenni gaaaawd jeez.
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Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
But only in the confines of our IMAGINATION
But only in the confines of our IMAGINATION
Re: Remorse [A KH Fic]
A whopping ten pages on Word, that's a new record.
Chapter 3 - Longing
Making her way down the narrow staircase, quietly, as not to disturb others in their rooms, sleeping and otherwise at these hours. With only the soft tap of her boots, Leyla’s noise was muffled by the increasing volume of the pattering of rain outside. Gabryl would most likely be waking up to the outcome of another Amparo flooding downpour., but at least not suffer the depression of seeing it happen. Turning the corner, and hearing glasses clinking, with the smell of alcohol and smoke becoming more bold, she sat at a familiar table, set a little more off from the others, covered with rings from drinks placed there prior. Crossing a leg over the other, slouched back, sinking in the wooden, unbalanced chair, her orange eyes rolled up to two faces sitting opposite her. Neither seemed too excited, for more reason than one, and barely paid mind to her, used to routine.
“Are we too old for hello’s now?” She muttered, half-sarcastically, pulling off a glove, slowly, then laying it lightly on the table. Beginning work on the right hand, one of the two spoke out, Raimyd. He was the newer Reaper of the bunch, and looked younger to bolster that fact; wide-eyed in a literal sense, with pinkish pupils nonetheless, to contradict his job.
“I’m wondering if that was an age joke.” He smirked to himself, then looked up from a small bowl of pretzels. “You know how the weather can be a downer, but hi.” Leyla managed the tiniest acknowledgment in the form of a nod and shoulder shrug in agreement to his other statement. Some continual sun, at least for a couple days, wouldn’t kill anyone, after all. The irony in her thought caught her a moment later.
“Not to mention it’s eleven at night, girl; you should be getting to sleep.” Both glanced at the third party member, Medea, sitting defiantly taller, dark-skinned with similar hair. Leyla just blew at a piece of hair that fell in her face in response, slouching further.
“Maybe I was bored. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Or maybe you were thinking about him too much.” Medea kept a serious look, whilst the other girl just closed her eyes. Raimyd’s eyes shifted between both.
“By the way, we heard. We’re very sorry for you loss.” There was less sarcasm in his tone; at least less than Leyla’s, since his words were more directed to the bluntest of the three. And then, in a tone a bit more sincere; “Any word on what happened out on the field?” Finding this an inquiry of more practical importance, Leyla gripped the arms of her chair, straightening up, and looking from Raimyd, to Medea, and back. “I found a new guy while looking for him this morning.” Both lifted their heads a little, obvious interested.
“Gabryl. Found him down town, holding Lucre’s Keychain; I jumped to conclusions a little,” There was the slightest of an eye twitch in her saying that, “but the kid’s unaware of anything. He’s sleeping now.” A few nods followed, and her friends suddenly seemed more awake now. Leyla was honored to have such an effect on them, and gave a small wave over to the bar, to Gordrid, finally free from the late-night drinkers. Giving a sign of recognition, Leyla turned back, yawning.
“Like I said, sleep’ll help you hon.” Medea offered again, huffing, and rolling her eyes towards the other end of the building when Gordrid walked over, placing a cup of coffee on the table in front of Leyla. He stood with the trio, watching as Leyla eagerly brought the hot cup to her lips, sipping it, and tending to burnt fingers after she had downed half of it. She looked at each one of them, not caring that they seemed a little shocked that the scalding drink didn’t harm her notably much. Her speech was impaired by an apparently raw tongue.
“Maybe I don’t wanna sleep. Too much to think ‘bout.” There was also a bit of wincing when she pursed her lips in pain, pressing teeth hard against each other as well, and nearly shouting from the intense feeling. Giving a shuddering, retaliation of a breath, her eyes went back to staring each of them down. After a moment of silence between the four of them, allowing for each to notice the restaurant portion of the inn empty out significantly, leaving only a handful of regular Reapers, living there or not, Gordrid cleared his throat and addressed them.
“Sleep ‘er not, the new kid stayin’ here’s gonna change things. Not expectin’ him to get out of here anytime soon, so’s I’m rearranging the Keychains to you guys.” Taking the now empty cup, still steaming a little from the hot liquid once in there, Gordrid turned, without much to say about what he’d be doing, and returned to his station. The Reapers sat, looking at the table, then around the room, for about five minutes, unsure whether or not to mention what had been said. None knew whether or not it was important or too shocking to bring up.
“So…” Raimyd began, “I’m betting on you getting to go out solo now.” He nodded towards Leyla, giving a smile of encouragement. “Can’t imagine the big guy replacing Lucre or anything.” However, his smile wasn’t exactly met, and Raimyd had been driving on the hope that the caffeine would be in her system already, or at least make her easier to talk to. He never really enjoyed getting the chance for some one-on-one time with Leyla, and chugged coffee did not change this fact.
“…Kind of forward of you, don’t you think?” Her eyes, deep amber now, glinted at him, and Raimyd backed in his seat; seeing Leyla rise a bit in place.
“Hey, hey you two, hush it.” Medea looked at both threateningly, and half-stood, holding an arm out to each. “No fight’s or nothing, was a slip of the tongue. Neither of you has a reason to get riled up.” Listening; one Reaper disgruntled and the other a little afraid, all three returned to normal seating.
“Just glad I’m not the newbie anymore.” Raimyd pouted, crossing his arms, looking at the scratched boarded floor. Leyla growled lowly, firing back.
“You’re right. He is.” She was referencing Gabryl, and they both realized this and nodded. “I’m probably gonna get paired with him, and then you two go together. Medea, it’s not like you enjoy your partner; he’s always running off and crap. Where the hell is he now, anyway?” She looked irked, but replied in a relaxed way.
“The hell should I know, but I’ll take Rai here over anyone else left in this sorry place. ‘Sides, he barely goes on any missions when he’s not taking a life. His own partner would be glad to be off without him.” There was the a wordless, mutual agreement between them all, in the next few moments, and Leyla, stroking a hand through her long hair, keeping it behind her neck, and not smothering her. She sighed, neither Raimyd or Medea paying attention to their friend preparing to leave.
“Yeah.” She said, mumbling, taking her gloves from the table and folding them; intentionally in a deliberate manner, just waiting for one of them to say something. “Sleep would be good.” Leyla hid a small yawn when she faced the hallway behind them, and starting walking, hand grasping the railing of the staircase, but not before hearing a simultaneous “good night” from the Reapers at the table.
Gabryl looked around; studying his surroundings. They were pretty familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it; and looking over to said finger, he saw his right hand splattered in blood, as well as his clothing. However, it was dried, and seemed to have been there for at least a day or more. This surprised him actually; he tried to keep his clothes clean as much as possible, so bloodstains, especially since he was just sitting there, in some torn-up armchair, seemed off. Again; why did this all seem familiar? Gabryl tried to sit up, grunting, his limbs feeling like stone, and not moving. Definitely odd, he decided on, his thought process slow and narrow. Then, his eyes widened, in shock, his nerves seemingly all kicking in at once, all screaming in agony; and Gabryl writhed, trying to open his mouth to scream, but feeling to exhausted in every part of his body to do so. He was horrified, and confused, straining to crane his neck; the house he was in was in a total mess, and whether or not it was from him or the previous owner was a mystery. Thoughts came rushing in next; and no Gabryl remembered this recurring dream, this nightmare.
The pain was the worst in his stomach, and he felt like he could vomit. Was it from hunger? It seemed like he hadn’t eaten, but there were many food wrappers and plates scattered about the kitchen, visible, and connected to the living room. No, he had tried to suppress the pain by eating, that was it. It didn’t go away though, and that sour, lurching feeling dominated his every fiber. Gabryl could do nothing to prevent the painful urge he felt so many times every day; to kill. But, Gabryl recalled, now watching everything play out before him, in the third person, he had once went nearly a day and a half without reaping any hearts. Resisting the impulse, however, would come to get him; haunting his impression of his supernatural world, during that day, and for years to come. This younger Gabryl, though only by a year or so, wasn’t as sure of his responsibility as a Reaper as he was now. It was fairly ironic really, since, after this experience, Gabryl was once again in a situation where he was under the impression he had an answer. There was the little part inside of him even that was in fear that these new Reapers wouldn’t be completely trusting; and that his new place of living would be quite temporary, and Gabryl laws unnerved by such thoughts.
Expected what would happen next, the scenes returning to his memory and immediately happening below; though he noticed his perspective slowly easing back down, which was different than normal. Gabryl was hovering over the back of the chair when a ray of light came out of nowhere, shining in a thin pillar, and a lanky, yet powerful Angel standing before the frightened Gabryl in the dream. Floating still, but now just above his dream self’s head, he watched as they exchanged words, basically things about going through with what he had to, with it being his job. Before he knew it, Gabryl was sustained back, behind the eyes of dream Gabryl, without noticing, as the dream seemed to be veering off into it’s own, new course. Now just as frightened as his double, Gabryl looked up at this Angel, with silver hair, messy, sticking up at the top, and smooth as it went past his shoulders. He was tan, with broad shoulders, and a devious smile; enjoying putting fear into this Reaper, smirk increasing. This was the part where he would hold up his weapon, that sword thing, right in his face as a signature thread. Gabryl could see it; with silver lines and certain, intricate insignias on it, and, now that he thought about it, a Keychain on that was in the shape of a lion’s head. Regardless of how vivid this image was though, it was not what occurred next. Rather, another familiar scene, but from another time and place; the Angel raised his hand, and it pulsated with light energy. The apparitional Gabryl, now stuck in his former self’s body, was unable to hover away; forced to get the first-hand experience of being blasted by the Angel’s attack. His vision enveloped in brightness, burning pain of death consuming him; a horrible way to go, happening to him then and there.
And then he woke up; sweating, having been mumbling in his slumber, tangled in his sheets. His eyes snapped open, teeth tightly closed, and breathing harshly through his nostrils. Gabryl swung his legs over the side of the bed, quickly, forcing movement into his stiff, cold body in an attempt to shake himself from the scaring effects of the nightmare that he had been having for at least a year. It wasn’t just the dream though, but the memory; and that was something Gabryl could never get rid of. Sliding his body off the bed, and onto bare, freezing feet, he shuffled to the window, seeing how it had been raining all night. In fact, though the resilient drops still pouring down, Gabryl say something he definitely wasn’t used to; Reapers, at least a dozen of them, all taking off into the air, down the long roof, at what he imagined was the front of the inn. The sight wasn’t necessarily majestic or anything, but struck awe into Gabryl, who had only firs the first time seen one of his kind yesterday. In fact, as it kept replaying in his mind, Gabryl was also awed to think that he was really in the presence of people who saw him, and who he had actual conversations with. Suddenly, those two years of being isolated to his transparency seemed like nothing; because he had the luxury of company now. As Gabryl thought about it, even, he was glad that he had that bad dream, because it told him that now, he was really awake.
Obeying Leyla from the night before, Gabryl would descend the stairs to meet her, and maybe even eat something. Upon that thought Gabryl felt an all-too real sting of pain in his stomach, but this was one of natural hunger. It was funny, he had expected his impulse for the first kill of the day. Maybe luck was on his side and the impulses would let him fill up first. That was quite nice of them. Holding his arms over each other, and having down so subconsciously for the past ten minutes he had been standing around, Gabryl turned the old doorknob and walked out to the corridor, bracing for more cold, but rather opening his eyes a little wider in surprise when it was actually warmer outside his room. Apparently the owner, Gordrid, wasn’t being particularly nice to Gabryl, but at least he would have his thick, itchy, bed covers to compensate.
So, making his way down the narrow staircase, no doubt just as slow as Leyla had gone up them hours earlier, in the middle of the night, Gabryl was not surprised to see the same bar and restaurant-like area he had just passed through before. Except this time, the familiar feminine form, who had saved him from his desperate like previous, leaned, half sitting on a stool. Leyla was holding a coffee cup, similar to the one she used before, with two fingers, weakly, stirring it’s contents with a small spoon with the other hand. Gabryl couldn’t see it well from where he was standing then, but as he walked closer, and around her to meet face to face, he noticed dark rings under her eyes. Obviously, to Medea, walking up to them both, she had not gotten any sleep like she had said she would. But this because Leyla had wanted to or not; certain depressing thoughts and such swirling about her mind and keeping her up. But, not caring much, she disregarded her and spoke to Gabryl.
“You’re the newbie then? Well, you’ll do; we’re leaving in twenty, so clean up why don’t you.” And Gabryl didn’t even get to raise a hand in expression; not fully comprehending what he had even just heard. Medea was already walking away, no doubt getting the Keychains from Gordrid, secretly eager to get to go out without a partner, like she hoped. Still, Gabryl was a bit stricken. Were they going somewhere already? At this hour? His head snapped to Leyla, who looked at him with the same, sunken eyes.
“So…I can’t even get anything to eat then?” He blinked, sighing to himself, disappointed, and once again putting an arm around his stomach; this time, trying to prepare himself to have this empty feeling for the rest of the day, since it’s not like he expected eating anytime soon. Leyla though, sensed his rambling brooding, and slid the cup, spilling some as the coffee inside, but allowing it to make it’s trip with a fair amount of liquid left. She stared at it for a few seconds, knowing she shouldn’t be drinking it anyway, removing her fingers from the handle.
“Here.” Bluntness, not showing much of a caring sign, yet her actions being almost motherly.
“Oh um, thanks.” He grabbed it, thankfully, and drank half of it down there, breathing out, relieved, and sipping at the rest. Without either of them noticing though, Raimyd stood in Medea’s place, watching the scene happen. His head went between the two, and he spoke to both openly.
“Aw, sweet of you Leyla, and look,” he nodded towards Gabryl’s drinking of the coffee, “he even takes after you.” His snickering was met by a feigned push, and Leyla got up form her position, stretching, and yawning a long-lived yawn. Raimyd could care less of what she did and decided to out of exhaustion she brought upon herself, and turned his head to Gabryl as they went over to Gordrid and Medea; the former rummaging through a cabinet under the bar. “So, new guy, Gabe, what’s your deal?” Gabryl just gave a look, out of being clueless and because he was just given a clever little nickname.
“…Wha?” His eye twitched and he had no idea how to respond to such a question. Raimyd dismissed him then, not finding it worth it, and finding a place between the two girls at the long table. That left Gabryl to awkwardly sit next to the apparently simplified Leyla, whose eyes settled lazily, half-closed, on the large man, wheezing as he bent back up to all four, placing a few Keychains on it.
“’Aight kids, got three chains here; guess who gets what?” The usual trio rolled their eyes, seeing his little game. Medea was the first to act on it though, pointing a finger to herself, without a word, but in a mocking way. Gordrid just gave a smile and tossed one of the objects over, which would be her normal one with a partner. “Yup! ‘Cept this time yer going solo for good.” She gave a mental fist pump, and Raimyd acted closely after, holding a hand out.
“And solo duty for me too, Gordy?” He game a wide smile, and fanned his fingers. Gordrid fingered the Keychain he was holding ,which was revealed to be the one Gabryl had found earlier; three circles, two like ears. He held it by the chain and let it drop right in front of Leyla, who scooped it up with haste into her pocket; hand patting it frequently to check it’s presence.
“Actually Rai, that’s gonna be Leyla who gets it. Fer good too, believe she’s deserving’ of the responsibilities.” Leyla nodded, eyes closing for a moment, and walked away, taking the Keychain out to look at it momentarily before placing it back to it’s holding place. Raimyd stared into space then, before doing some math himself.
“Wait, so.” His head slowly turned to Gabryl, absent-minded as ever at the time, wanting his own Keychain, and their eyes met. Raimyd’s eyes shot back to Gordrid, who flashed another smile, flipping the third chain onto the table, in between the two.
“Rai, you get trainin’ duties is watcha get. This guy’s new, and since yer the last new guy we got here, I’ll leave it to you to keep Gabe here in line.” And as most of the denizens of the building tended to do, Gordrid walked off, to the far end of the bar to attend to early customers; already people were filing in through the door. Raimyd though, just remained leaned over, hand still held out, but with a clenched fist now, seething on the inside with disappointment. Sighing, but in a more hissing manner, he turned, waving his prior raised hand as to invite Gabryl with him. He complied, trailing behind Raimyd, who was meeting with the other two girls; Gabryl had managed to snatch the Keychain up before his new partner, and eyed the thing curiously; it was silver, a circle shape, with spikes at intervals. It almost felt warm to the touch. And said, minuscule spikes were very sharp, and might’ve poked a hole into his finger if he wasn’t careful. Maybe Leyla wore those leather gloves to protect herself from the little dangerous things like these. But then he looked up from his fascination, to the three Reapers occasionally glancing towards him; he was a bit nervous, but attempted to dig up any social skills from the back of his mind he was once so fluid in. Raimyd huffed again, and spoke, flatly.
“He paired me up with him, you believe that?” Medea’s eyes went from Raimyd to Gabryl, as if to make him realize that he was nearly insulting a person standing right next to him; but he didn’t seem to care much. “I mean, I’m not the rookie anymore, so this should mean I’m off the hook for these things, god…”
“Look, Rai, not like we’re gonna be going off on our own or anything, four of us’ll stick together. No need to stress yourself.” Raimyd grunted, and paced around the adjacent table, grumbling, angrily, to himself.
“Well, if it means anything, I’m sorry.” Gabryl offered, to each for some sign of acknowledgment or acceptance. He received nor found none of that, and just went back to keeping his eyes trained on the muddy floor. “Does this mean we um…go now?”
“Yeah, yeah.” They all looked to Raimyd, who spoke again, still stuck in his upset tone, heading towards the door. “We’re wasting daylight, or, whatever’s behind the clouds. You know I forget what’s up there sometimes.” That was sarcasm, no matter how his angered, almost serious voice hid it. But, the girls used to this and for the most part ignoring him, ushered Gabryl through the double doors; some water seeping through a long crack in the right one.
“Ugh.” Leyla narrowed her eyes, keeping her vision straight in front of her as to ignore the populace. “I hate this part of the city. It’s…bleh.” Gabryl observed where they had made it too, as he had been more or less zoning out, waiting for them to get to the location. However, he did see the city’s local park, which he had seen yesterday, a few blocks down as the four came to the middle of a crosswalk. That, combined with the Chapel Hearts clock tower visible in the distance, told Gabryl that they were near the large, cleared-out, marketplace near the center of Amparo. This made Gabryl wonder if the reason that Leyla didn’t like this place was because of the denseness of the crowds, or because Lucre had died nearby. It was becoming more and more apparent, as he hung out with this gang, that Lucre meant something to them all. However, Gabryl’s now instinctive perspective on death had him shrugging it off; if Lucre was dead then there was nothing that could be done. He’d let them mourn without bothering anyone. Leyla took out her Keychain, examining it, and putting it back in her pocket, acting as some sort of authority when she tilter her head behind her, to the rest.
“You guys equipped then?” She said, monotone. Medea flashed her own chain, and Raimyd looked towards Gabryl, expectantly, with noticeable, subtle rage as he brushed aside some blonde hair, split ends prominently showing. Fumbling around a little, pressured, Gabryl revealed his issued Keychain. “Alright, split up, look around, look for anything out of place. You know the drill.” As Gabryl passed her, she held him up, prodding a finger to his chest. “When we get any Angel sightings, we send out a squad to find any leftovers. Be it from the Angel in question, some item, or,” she cleared her throat, starting to walk, “the Reaper who died. So, eh, just stay close to Rai while you have that thing, or that he stays close to one of us. Good.” She went off, to a farther part of the open pavement, which Gabryl recalled was nowhere near were Lucre had been blown to nothing. Maybe that was her intention.
Gabryl walked straight ahead, instead of their abstract paths. Leisurely making his way to where Lucre and the Angel once stood, Gabryl could still see a black smear, on the ground, in a splattered pattern. It was mildly disgusting; but it’s not like his innards were thrown to the ground or anything; just the color black, like a skid mark left by a tire. In fact, now that he stood directly over it, Gabryl saw more black; but this time that of a piece of clothing, some material; like leather. He went down, to one knee, scooping it up in his right hand, inspecting it. Shiny, yet waterlogged, and looking like it had been ripped up, but that was to be expected from the way it was laying there in the first place. Gabryl leaned his head up, to the others. Leyla, behind him, staring at a water fountain, aimlessly; Medea, the bottom half of her cloak, blowing in the wind, and facing the stores down the street. It was near where she was that Gabryl had hidden yesterday when Lucre faced his doom. Raimyd, on the other hand, watched over the crowds, shopping, and enjoying their time even in such gloomy whether. Hands in his pockets; he was uncharacteristically deep in thought, and quiet. Gabryl just shook his head, slowly, seeing that even though the people around him were in pretty much good company, they all still suffered, just like him, from their past, and what their very bleak and unsure futures would hold. Eyes glued to the large, dark smudges, the smallest bit of light came down, from a split in the clouds, right over the city square. It hit something in the very black markings, and, which Gabryl did not expect, reflected off something, making him squint. There was something lying there, on the ground, that his depth perception didn’t pick up, it being the same color as everything else. Gabryl’s hand, dropping the piece of leather, felt against the concrete, until he felt something cool and metal; and long, like a chain.
Moments later, it hung in his face; with thick, wide loops making up it’s chains, all black, just like it’s emblem. A simple, three-pointed crown, a very deep black, which resembled greatly the shape of the sign outside the inn. A Keychain, just lying on the ground, what were the odds of this, he wondered. Considering where it was, could it have been Lucre’s? No, because the one Leyla had now would’ve been his, and if he had dropped it here he never would have been vaporized. So many things began to flood into Gabryl’s mind then; this could be his own Keychain, that only he could and would use; whenever he wanted. No one had to know about it, right? It would just be taken away, and given to someone else; after all, this color and this shape, it just felt so simple, yet, so powerful. There had to be something significant about it; maybe Gabryl was exaggerating, or his Reaper senses were picking something up.
“Leyla!” Gabryl almost fell over when he heard Raimyd yell out, across the square, and turn. Gabryl bunched the chain in his fist and shoved it into his left pocket; the other Keychain being in his usual right. Raimyd was taking a few strides over to the fountain, getting his exercise, and reported back to her. When Medea followed, Gabryl went as well.
“Yeah, I’m seeing nothing; I don’t think there’s much to go by here. Angel came, he was done for, that’s it. Nothing left behind it seems.” It would also seem that none of them had the guts to search the death place of their friends; but Gabryl never would have found his precious treasure otherwise. Oh, what would he do? What if Gordrid had some Keychain tracking technology, that would single him out right when he stepped in the building? It unnerved Gabryl, but for the sake of this chance at freedom, he’d do it; he would sneak this Keychain around for the rest of his Reaper life. Gabryl focused on the ground, seeing the shadow of the tall fountain structure, stretch out past his feet.
“Mmhmm. Might as well head back, not much left to see.” It was obvious she didn’t bother to even glance near the splatter of black smudges. Gabryl just continued to watch the shadow, however, eyes rolling to his left as the shadow went on and on…much more than it should be, in fact. His eyes opened just a little wider, thinking they were playing tricks on him, when the shadow seemed to widen; shifting, turning whilst remaining two-dimensional and, well, a shadow. The shade, detaching from it’s base at the bottom of the fountain, not that Gabryl noticed, intent on seeing all the new shapes come into form, with the darkness all sliding up towards the former top of the fountain silhouette; not that it was exactly in it’s old shape anymore. Gabryl, mouth agape, in disbelief, but more in a comical fashion, just gawking from his tiredness, craned his neck back up, looking at the three of them. He brought a hand up and point, to which none of them, having not been staring at the ground, knew what the hell he was doing. Leyla was the first to actually get the message though, her own eyes snapping all the way open when she spotted the mass of shadows, now an amorphous blob some ten feet away from their gathering. Medea and Raimyd looked at them both, their backs facing the shadow; and it was when the shadow; it’s blob turning into a perfect circle, two, ominous yellow dots appearing in the middle, like eyes of it’s own, that Leyla’s arm slowly, yet smoothly went to her side, scythe appearing in a flash. It’s jagged points pointed right towards the thing. Medea jumped back, seeing it behind her.
“Shi…!” She was cut off; the being had become fully developed in a manner of seconds, now humanoid in shape, standing on two legs, with two arms topped off with clawed hands. Two long, squiggly antenna draped of it’s head, almost to the ground, and the whole thing stood rather hunched over, completely black in color like the shadows from where it came, bar for the bright eyes. It seemed to screech for a moment, it’s thin neck arching, and, in even less than an instant, Leyla dashed from one end of the group to the creature, scythe slicing the air in half, along with the being. It fell to two pieces after the weapon went through it, and exploded with a small radius into ball of black, shadowy bits, before fading into nothing. All four Reapers watched, tense, Leyla breathing surprisingly heavy for having done nearly nothing, in reality. It was only Gabryl, though, that paid attention to a pink light appear in the remains of the blackness; a familiar heart-shaped entity materializing and gently taking into the air, high up, until it too faded away. He watched, in disbelief, at many of the things he had just seen. Leyla’s scythe was gone promptly, and she took a few steps, calling back to them.
“We go. Now. Hurry.” The three of them made haste to go with her, and they were turning around a hedge garden on the other side of the block in nearly five seconds, whilst still staying at a walking pace. “Hell, who was it that said we’d find nothing…” Raimyd sneered shortly, before noticing his friends own kind of sarcasm.
“W-What…” Gabryl found that he could make himself speak coherently, distracted with what he had seen, and the brisk pace he was forced to keep up. Medea brought up a hand to his face.
“First, Gabey, we’ll get where it’s safe, then we’ll talk.”
“Maybe some food too; it’s gotta be close to lunch time.” Raimyd mumbled, but this was one of the few things he said that Gabryl had to agree with. He’d stay quiet for now, but, when they made it back would probably be spilling out questions, left and right. So, he just nodded, making sure Medea saw, and she did, giving him a strange look before looking forward once more. Five minutes later, they had managed to hustle back to their starting point; across the street from the inn, only to see another shocking sight. Gabryl almost gasped even, more out of awe than anything though.
Clustered around the doors, trying to shove their way in, were Reapers. Gabryl had at first thought that these were the ones returning from that morning trip he had seen after waking up, but there were far more; all dressed differently, of varying ages and sizes and colors. Raimyd gave more of an exhausted sigh though, compared to any exclamation Gabryl would have expressed.
“Well damn, there goes hopes of a meal when I actually order it.” Leyla gave a nod, scanning the unfamiliar mob of Reapers, trying to get in to get their own room, or maybe just to eat like Raimyd. Still, while she knew that some Reapers liked to get to the inn the day before the raid, or even before that, these numbers were something completely new. She knew that there could only be trouble, and replied to Raimyd, blinking a few times.
“Yeah, they’re definitely a little early.”
A whopping ten pages on Word, that's a new record.
Chapter 3 - Longing
Making her way down the narrow staircase, quietly, as not to disturb others in their rooms, sleeping and otherwise at these hours. With only the soft tap of her boots, Leyla’s noise was muffled by the increasing volume of the pattering of rain outside. Gabryl would most likely be waking up to the outcome of another Amparo flooding downpour., but at least not suffer the depression of seeing it happen. Turning the corner, and hearing glasses clinking, with the smell of alcohol and smoke becoming more bold, she sat at a familiar table, set a little more off from the others, covered with rings from drinks placed there prior. Crossing a leg over the other, slouched back, sinking in the wooden, unbalanced chair, her orange eyes rolled up to two faces sitting opposite her. Neither seemed too excited, for more reason than one, and barely paid mind to her, used to routine.
“Are we too old for hello’s now?” She muttered, half-sarcastically, pulling off a glove, slowly, then laying it lightly on the table. Beginning work on the right hand, one of the two spoke out, Raimyd. He was the newer Reaper of the bunch, and looked younger to bolster that fact; wide-eyed in a literal sense, with pinkish pupils nonetheless, to contradict his job.
“I’m wondering if that was an age joke.” He smirked to himself, then looked up from a small bowl of pretzels. “You know how the weather can be a downer, but hi.” Leyla managed the tiniest acknowledgment in the form of a nod and shoulder shrug in agreement to his other statement. Some continual sun, at least for a couple days, wouldn’t kill anyone, after all. The irony in her thought caught her a moment later.
“Not to mention it’s eleven at night, girl; you should be getting to sleep.” Both glanced at the third party member, Medea, sitting defiantly taller, dark-skinned with similar hair. Leyla just blew at a piece of hair that fell in her face in response, slouching further.
“Maybe I was bored. Couldn’t sleep.”
“Or maybe you were thinking about him too much.” Medea kept a serious look, whilst the other girl just closed her eyes. Raimyd’s eyes shifted between both.
“By the way, we heard. We’re very sorry for you loss.” There was less sarcasm in his tone; at least less than Leyla’s, since his words were more directed to the bluntest of the three. And then, in a tone a bit more sincere; “Any word on what happened out on the field?” Finding this an inquiry of more practical importance, Leyla gripped the arms of her chair, straightening up, and looking from Raimyd, to Medea, and back. “I found a new guy while looking for him this morning.” Both lifted their heads a little, obvious interested.
“Gabryl. Found him down town, holding Lucre’s Keychain; I jumped to conclusions a little,” There was the slightest of an eye twitch in her saying that, “but the kid’s unaware of anything. He’s sleeping now.” A few nods followed, and her friends suddenly seemed more awake now. Leyla was honored to have such an effect on them, and gave a small wave over to the bar, to Gordrid, finally free from the late-night drinkers. Giving a sign of recognition, Leyla turned back, yawning.
“Like I said, sleep’ll help you hon.” Medea offered again, huffing, and rolling her eyes towards the other end of the building when Gordrid walked over, placing a cup of coffee on the table in front of Leyla. He stood with the trio, watching as Leyla eagerly brought the hot cup to her lips, sipping it, and tending to burnt fingers after she had downed half of it. She looked at each one of them, not caring that they seemed a little shocked that the scalding drink didn’t harm her notably much. Her speech was impaired by an apparently raw tongue.
“Maybe I don’t wanna sleep. Too much to think ‘bout.” There was also a bit of wincing when she pursed her lips in pain, pressing teeth hard against each other as well, and nearly shouting from the intense feeling. Giving a shuddering, retaliation of a breath, her eyes went back to staring each of them down. After a moment of silence between the four of them, allowing for each to notice the restaurant portion of the inn empty out significantly, leaving only a handful of regular Reapers, living there or not, Gordrid cleared his throat and addressed them.
“Sleep ‘er not, the new kid stayin’ here’s gonna change things. Not expectin’ him to get out of here anytime soon, so’s I’m rearranging the Keychains to you guys.” Taking the now empty cup, still steaming a little from the hot liquid once in there, Gordrid turned, without much to say about what he’d be doing, and returned to his station. The Reapers sat, looking at the table, then around the room, for about five minutes, unsure whether or not to mention what had been said. None knew whether or not it was important or too shocking to bring up.
“So…” Raimyd began, “I’m betting on you getting to go out solo now.” He nodded towards Leyla, giving a smile of encouragement. “Can’t imagine the big guy replacing Lucre or anything.” However, his smile wasn’t exactly met, and Raimyd had been driving on the hope that the caffeine would be in her system already, or at least make her easier to talk to. He never really enjoyed getting the chance for some one-on-one time with Leyla, and chugged coffee did not change this fact.
“…Kind of forward of you, don’t you think?” Her eyes, deep amber now, glinted at him, and Raimyd backed in his seat; seeing Leyla rise a bit in place.
“Hey, hey you two, hush it.” Medea looked at both threateningly, and half-stood, holding an arm out to each. “No fight’s or nothing, was a slip of the tongue. Neither of you has a reason to get riled up.” Listening; one Reaper disgruntled and the other a little afraid, all three returned to normal seating.
“Just glad I’m not the newbie anymore.” Raimyd pouted, crossing his arms, looking at the scratched boarded floor. Leyla growled lowly, firing back.
“You’re right. He is.” She was referencing Gabryl, and they both realized this and nodded. “I’m probably gonna get paired with him, and then you two go together. Medea, it’s not like you enjoy your partner; he’s always running off and crap. Where the hell is he now, anyway?” She looked irked, but replied in a relaxed way.
“The hell should I know, but I’ll take Rai here over anyone else left in this sorry place. ‘Sides, he barely goes on any missions when he’s not taking a life. His own partner would be glad to be off without him.” There was the a wordless, mutual agreement between them all, in the next few moments, and Leyla, stroking a hand through her long hair, keeping it behind her neck, and not smothering her. She sighed, neither Raimyd or Medea paying attention to their friend preparing to leave.
“Yeah.” She said, mumbling, taking her gloves from the table and folding them; intentionally in a deliberate manner, just waiting for one of them to say something. “Sleep would be good.” Leyla hid a small yawn when she faced the hallway behind them, and starting walking, hand grasping the railing of the staircase, but not before hearing a simultaneous “good night” from the Reapers at the table.
Gabryl looked around; studying his surroundings. They were pretty familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it; and looking over to said finger, he saw his right hand splattered in blood, as well as his clothing. However, it was dried, and seemed to have been there for at least a day or more. This surprised him actually; he tried to keep his clothes clean as much as possible, so bloodstains, especially since he was just sitting there, in some torn-up armchair, seemed off. Again; why did this all seem familiar? Gabryl tried to sit up, grunting, his limbs feeling like stone, and not moving. Definitely odd, he decided on, his thought process slow and narrow. Then, his eyes widened, in shock, his nerves seemingly all kicking in at once, all screaming in agony; and Gabryl writhed, trying to open his mouth to scream, but feeling to exhausted in every part of his body to do so. He was horrified, and confused, straining to crane his neck; the house he was in was in a total mess, and whether or not it was from him or the previous owner was a mystery. Thoughts came rushing in next; and no Gabryl remembered this recurring dream, this nightmare.
The pain was the worst in his stomach, and he felt like he could vomit. Was it from hunger? It seemed like he hadn’t eaten, but there were many food wrappers and plates scattered about the kitchen, visible, and connected to the living room. No, he had tried to suppress the pain by eating, that was it. It didn’t go away though, and that sour, lurching feeling dominated his every fiber. Gabryl could do nothing to prevent the painful urge he felt so many times every day; to kill. But, Gabryl recalled, now watching everything play out before him, in the third person, he had once went nearly a day and a half without reaping any hearts. Resisting the impulse, however, would come to get him; haunting his impression of his supernatural world, during that day, and for years to come. This younger Gabryl, though only by a year or so, wasn’t as sure of his responsibility as a Reaper as he was now. It was fairly ironic really, since, after this experience, Gabryl was once again in a situation where he was under the impression he had an answer. There was the little part inside of him even that was in fear that these new Reapers wouldn’t be completely trusting; and that his new place of living would be quite temporary, and Gabryl laws unnerved by such thoughts.
Expected what would happen next, the scenes returning to his memory and immediately happening below; though he noticed his perspective slowly easing back down, which was different than normal. Gabryl was hovering over the back of the chair when a ray of light came out of nowhere, shining in a thin pillar, and a lanky, yet powerful Angel standing before the frightened Gabryl in the dream. Floating still, but now just above his dream self’s head, he watched as they exchanged words, basically things about going through with what he had to, with it being his job. Before he knew it, Gabryl was sustained back, behind the eyes of dream Gabryl, without noticing, as the dream seemed to be veering off into it’s own, new course. Now just as frightened as his double, Gabryl looked up at this Angel, with silver hair, messy, sticking up at the top, and smooth as it went past his shoulders. He was tan, with broad shoulders, and a devious smile; enjoying putting fear into this Reaper, smirk increasing. This was the part where he would hold up his weapon, that sword thing, right in his face as a signature thread. Gabryl could see it; with silver lines and certain, intricate insignias on it, and, now that he thought about it, a Keychain on that was in the shape of a lion’s head. Regardless of how vivid this image was though, it was not what occurred next. Rather, another familiar scene, but from another time and place; the Angel raised his hand, and it pulsated with light energy. The apparitional Gabryl, now stuck in his former self’s body, was unable to hover away; forced to get the first-hand experience of being blasted by the Angel’s attack. His vision enveloped in brightness, burning pain of death consuming him; a horrible way to go, happening to him then and there.
And then he woke up; sweating, having been mumbling in his slumber, tangled in his sheets. His eyes snapped open, teeth tightly closed, and breathing harshly through his nostrils. Gabryl swung his legs over the side of the bed, quickly, forcing movement into his stiff, cold body in an attempt to shake himself from the scaring effects of the nightmare that he had been having for at least a year. It wasn’t just the dream though, but the memory; and that was something Gabryl could never get rid of. Sliding his body off the bed, and onto bare, freezing feet, he shuffled to the window, seeing how it had been raining all night. In fact, though the resilient drops still pouring down, Gabryl say something he definitely wasn’t used to; Reapers, at least a dozen of them, all taking off into the air, down the long roof, at what he imagined was the front of the inn. The sight wasn’t necessarily majestic or anything, but struck awe into Gabryl, who had only firs the first time seen one of his kind yesterday. In fact, as it kept replaying in his mind, Gabryl was also awed to think that he was really in the presence of people who saw him, and who he had actual conversations with. Suddenly, those two years of being isolated to his transparency seemed like nothing; because he had the luxury of company now. As Gabryl thought about it, even, he was glad that he had that bad dream, because it told him that now, he was really awake.
Obeying Leyla from the night before, Gabryl would descend the stairs to meet her, and maybe even eat something. Upon that thought Gabryl felt an all-too real sting of pain in his stomach, but this was one of natural hunger. It was funny, he had expected his impulse for the first kill of the day. Maybe luck was on his side and the impulses would let him fill up first. That was quite nice of them. Holding his arms over each other, and having down so subconsciously for the past ten minutes he had been standing around, Gabryl turned the old doorknob and walked out to the corridor, bracing for more cold, but rather opening his eyes a little wider in surprise when it was actually warmer outside his room. Apparently the owner, Gordrid, wasn’t being particularly nice to Gabryl, but at least he would have his thick, itchy, bed covers to compensate.
So, making his way down the narrow staircase, no doubt just as slow as Leyla had gone up them hours earlier, in the middle of the night, Gabryl was not surprised to see the same bar and restaurant-like area he had just passed through before. Except this time, the familiar feminine form, who had saved him from his desperate like previous, leaned, half sitting on a stool. Leyla was holding a coffee cup, similar to the one she used before, with two fingers, weakly, stirring it’s contents with a small spoon with the other hand. Gabryl couldn’t see it well from where he was standing then, but as he walked closer, and around her to meet face to face, he noticed dark rings under her eyes. Obviously, to Medea, walking up to them both, she had not gotten any sleep like she had said she would. But this because Leyla had wanted to or not; certain depressing thoughts and such swirling about her mind and keeping her up. But, not caring much, she disregarded her and spoke to Gabryl.
“You’re the newbie then? Well, you’ll do; we’re leaving in twenty, so clean up why don’t you.” And Gabryl didn’t even get to raise a hand in expression; not fully comprehending what he had even just heard. Medea was already walking away, no doubt getting the Keychains from Gordrid, secretly eager to get to go out without a partner, like she hoped. Still, Gabryl was a bit stricken. Were they going somewhere already? At this hour? His head snapped to Leyla, who looked at him with the same, sunken eyes.
“So…I can’t even get anything to eat then?” He blinked, sighing to himself, disappointed, and once again putting an arm around his stomach; this time, trying to prepare himself to have this empty feeling for the rest of the day, since it’s not like he expected eating anytime soon. Leyla though, sensed his rambling brooding, and slid the cup, spilling some as the coffee inside, but allowing it to make it’s trip with a fair amount of liquid left. She stared at it for a few seconds, knowing she shouldn’t be drinking it anyway, removing her fingers from the handle.
“Here.” Bluntness, not showing much of a caring sign, yet her actions being almost motherly.
“Oh um, thanks.” He grabbed it, thankfully, and drank half of it down there, breathing out, relieved, and sipping at the rest. Without either of them noticing though, Raimyd stood in Medea’s place, watching the scene happen. His head went between the two, and he spoke to both openly.
“Aw, sweet of you Leyla, and look,” he nodded towards Gabryl’s drinking of the coffee, “he even takes after you.” His snickering was met by a feigned push, and Leyla got up form her position, stretching, and yawning a long-lived yawn. Raimyd could care less of what she did and decided to out of exhaustion she brought upon herself, and turned his head to Gabryl as they went over to Gordrid and Medea; the former rummaging through a cabinet under the bar. “So, new guy, Gabe, what’s your deal?” Gabryl just gave a look, out of being clueless and because he was just given a clever little nickname.
“…Wha?” His eye twitched and he had no idea how to respond to such a question. Raimyd dismissed him then, not finding it worth it, and finding a place between the two girls at the long table. That left Gabryl to awkwardly sit next to the apparently simplified Leyla, whose eyes settled lazily, half-closed, on the large man, wheezing as he bent back up to all four, placing a few Keychains on it.
“’Aight kids, got three chains here; guess who gets what?” The usual trio rolled their eyes, seeing his little game. Medea was the first to act on it though, pointing a finger to herself, without a word, but in a mocking way. Gordrid just gave a smile and tossed one of the objects over, which would be her normal one with a partner. “Yup! ‘Cept this time yer going solo for good.” She gave a mental fist pump, and Raimyd acted closely after, holding a hand out.
“And solo duty for me too, Gordy?” He game a wide smile, and fanned his fingers. Gordrid fingered the Keychain he was holding ,which was revealed to be the one Gabryl had found earlier; three circles, two like ears. He held it by the chain and let it drop right in front of Leyla, who scooped it up with haste into her pocket; hand patting it frequently to check it’s presence.
“Actually Rai, that’s gonna be Leyla who gets it. Fer good too, believe she’s deserving’ of the responsibilities.” Leyla nodded, eyes closing for a moment, and walked away, taking the Keychain out to look at it momentarily before placing it back to it’s holding place. Raimyd stared into space then, before doing some math himself.
“Wait, so.” His head slowly turned to Gabryl, absent-minded as ever at the time, wanting his own Keychain, and their eyes met. Raimyd’s eyes shot back to Gordrid, who flashed another smile, flipping the third chain onto the table, in between the two.
“Rai, you get trainin’ duties is watcha get. This guy’s new, and since yer the last new guy we got here, I’ll leave it to you to keep Gabe here in line.” And as most of the denizens of the building tended to do, Gordrid walked off, to the far end of the bar to attend to early customers; already people were filing in through the door. Raimyd though, just remained leaned over, hand still held out, but with a clenched fist now, seething on the inside with disappointment. Sighing, but in a more hissing manner, he turned, waving his prior raised hand as to invite Gabryl with him. He complied, trailing behind Raimyd, who was meeting with the other two girls; Gabryl had managed to snatch the Keychain up before his new partner, and eyed the thing curiously; it was silver, a circle shape, with spikes at intervals. It almost felt warm to the touch. And said, minuscule spikes were very sharp, and might’ve poked a hole into his finger if he wasn’t careful. Maybe Leyla wore those leather gloves to protect herself from the little dangerous things like these. But then he looked up from his fascination, to the three Reapers occasionally glancing towards him; he was a bit nervous, but attempted to dig up any social skills from the back of his mind he was once so fluid in. Raimyd huffed again, and spoke, flatly.
“He paired me up with him, you believe that?” Medea’s eyes went from Raimyd to Gabryl, as if to make him realize that he was nearly insulting a person standing right next to him; but he didn’t seem to care much. “I mean, I’m not the rookie anymore, so this should mean I’m off the hook for these things, god…”
“Look, Rai, not like we’re gonna be going off on our own or anything, four of us’ll stick together. No need to stress yourself.” Raimyd grunted, and paced around the adjacent table, grumbling, angrily, to himself.
“Well, if it means anything, I’m sorry.” Gabryl offered, to each for some sign of acknowledgment or acceptance. He received nor found none of that, and just went back to keeping his eyes trained on the muddy floor. “Does this mean we um…go now?”
“Yeah, yeah.” They all looked to Raimyd, who spoke again, still stuck in his upset tone, heading towards the door. “We’re wasting daylight, or, whatever’s behind the clouds. You know I forget what’s up there sometimes.” That was sarcasm, no matter how his angered, almost serious voice hid it. But, the girls used to this and for the most part ignoring him, ushered Gabryl through the double doors; some water seeping through a long crack in the right one.
“Ugh.” Leyla narrowed her eyes, keeping her vision straight in front of her as to ignore the populace. “I hate this part of the city. It’s…bleh.” Gabryl observed where they had made it too, as he had been more or less zoning out, waiting for them to get to the location. However, he did see the city’s local park, which he had seen yesterday, a few blocks down as the four came to the middle of a crosswalk. That, combined with the Chapel Hearts clock tower visible in the distance, told Gabryl that they were near the large, cleared-out, marketplace near the center of Amparo. This made Gabryl wonder if the reason that Leyla didn’t like this place was because of the denseness of the crowds, or because Lucre had died nearby. It was becoming more and more apparent, as he hung out with this gang, that Lucre meant something to them all. However, Gabryl’s now instinctive perspective on death had him shrugging it off; if Lucre was dead then there was nothing that could be done. He’d let them mourn without bothering anyone. Leyla took out her Keychain, examining it, and putting it back in her pocket, acting as some sort of authority when she tilter her head behind her, to the rest.
“You guys equipped then?” She said, monotone. Medea flashed her own chain, and Raimyd looked towards Gabryl, expectantly, with noticeable, subtle rage as he brushed aside some blonde hair, split ends prominently showing. Fumbling around a little, pressured, Gabryl revealed his issued Keychain. “Alright, split up, look around, look for anything out of place. You know the drill.” As Gabryl passed her, she held him up, prodding a finger to his chest. “When we get any Angel sightings, we send out a squad to find any leftovers. Be it from the Angel in question, some item, or,” she cleared her throat, starting to walk, “the Reaper who died. So, eh, just stay close to Rai while you have that thing, or that he stays close to one of us. Good.” She went off, to a farther part of the open pavement, which Gabryl recalled was nowhere near were Lucre had been blown to nothing. Maybe that was her intention.
Gabryl walked straight ahead, instead of their abstract paths. Leisurely making his way to where Lucre and the Angel once stood, Gabryl could still see a black smear, on the ground, in a splattered pattern. It was mildly disgusting; but it’s not like his innards were thrown to the ground or anything; just the color black, like a skid mark left by a tire. In fact, now that he stood directly over it, Gabryl saw more black; but this time that of a piece of clothing, some material; like leather. He went down, to one knee, scooping it up in his right hand, inspecting it. Shiny, yet waterlogged, and looking like it had been ripped up, but that was to be expected from the way it was laying there in the first place. Gabryl leaned his head up, to the others. Leyla, behind him, staring at a water fountain, aimlessly; Medea, the bottom half of her cloak, blowing in the wind, and facing the stores down the street. It was near where she was that Gabryl had hidden yesterday when Lucre faced his doom. Raimyd, on the other hand, watched over the crowds, shopping, and enjoying their time even in such gloomy whether. Hands in his pockets; he was uncharacteristically deep in thought, and quiet. Gabryl just shook his head, slowly, seeing that even though the people around him were in pretty much good company, they all still suffered, just like him, from their past, and what their very bleak and unsure futures would hold. Eyes glued to the large, dark smudges, the smallest bit of light came down, from a split in the clouds, right over the city square. It hit something in the very black markings, and, which Gabryl did not expect, reflected off something, making him squint. There was something lying there, on the ground, that his depth perception didn’t pick up, it being the same color as everything else. Gabryl’s hand, dropping the piece of leather, felt against the concrete, until he felt something cool and metal; and long, like a chain.
Moments later, it hung in his face; with thick, wide loops making up it’s chains, all black, just like it’s emblem. A simple, three-pointed crown, a very deep black, which resembled greatly the shape of the sign outside the inn. A Keychain, just lying on the ground, what were the odds of this, he wondered. Considering where it was, could it have been Lucre’s? No, because the one Leyla had now would’ve been his, and if he had dropped it here he never would have been vaporized. So many things began to flood into Gabryl’s mind then; this could be his own Keychain, that only he could and would use; whenever he wanted. No one had to know about it, right? It would just be taken away, and given to someone else; after all, this color and this shape, it just felt so simple, yet, so powerful. There had to be something significant about it; maybe Gabryl was exaggerating, or his Reaper senses were picking something up.
“Leyla!” Gabryl almost fell over when he heard Raimyd yell out, across the square, and turn. Gabryl bunched the chain in his fist and shoved it into his left pocket; the other Keychain being in his usual right. Raimyd was taking a few strides over to the fountain, getting his exercise, and reported back to her. When Medea followed, Gabryl went as well.
“Yeah, I’m seeing nothing; I don’t think there’s much to go by here. Angel came, he was done for, that’s it. Nothing left behind it seems.” It would also seem that none of them had the guts to search the death place of their friends; but Gabryl never would have found his precious treasure otherwise. Oh, what would he do? What if Gordrid had some Keychain tracking technology, that would single him out right when he stepped in the building? It unnerved Gabryl, but for the sake of this chance at freedom, he’d do it; he would sneak this Keychain around for the rest of his Reaper life. Gabryl focused on the ground, seeing the shadow of the tall fountain structure, stretch out past his feet.
“Mmhmm. Might as well head back, not much left to see.” It was obvious she didn’t bother to even glance near the splatter of black smudges. Gabryl just continued to watch the shadow, however, eyes rolling to his left as the shadow went on and on…much more than it should be, in fact. His eyes opened just a little wider, thinking they were playing tricks on him, when the shadow seemed to widen; shifting, turning whilst remaining two-dimensional and, well, a shadow. The shade, detaching from it’s base at the bottom of the fountain, not that Gabryl noticed, intent on seeing all the new shapes come into form, with the darkness all sliding up towards the former top of the fountain silhouette; not that it was exactly in it’s old shape anymore. Gabryl, mouth agape, in disbelief, but more in a comical fashion, just gawking from his tiredness, craned his neck back up, looking at the three of them. He brought a hand up and point, to which none of them, having not been staring at the ground, knew what the hell he was doing. Leyla was the first to actually get the message though, her own eyes snapping all the way open when she spotted the mass of shadows, now an amorphous blob some ten feet away from their gathering. Medea and Raimyd looked at them both, their backs facing the shadow; and it was when the shadow; it’s blob turning into a perfect circle, two, ominous yellow dots appearing in the middle, like eyes of it’s own, that Leyla’s arm slowly, yet smoothly went to her side, scythe appearing in a flash. It’s jagged points pointed right towards the thing. Medea jumped back, seeing it behind her.
“Shi…!” She was cut off; the being had become fully developed in a manner of seconds, now humanoid in shape, standing on two legs, with two arms topped off with clawed hands. Two long, squiggly antenna draped of it’s head, almost to the ground, and the whole thing stood rather hunched over, completely black in color like the shadows from where it came, bar for the bright eyes. It seemed to screech for a moment, it’s thin neck arching, and, in even less than an instant, Leyla dashed from one end of the group to the creature, scythe slicing the air in half, along with the being. It fell to two pieces after the weapon went through it, and exploded with a small radius into ball of black, shadowy bits, before fading into nothing. All four Reapers watched, tense, Leyla breathing surprisingly heavy for having done nearly nothing, in reality. It was only Gabryl, though, that paid attention to a pink light appear in the remains of the blackness; a familiar heart-shaped entity materializing and gently taking into the air, high up, until it too faded away. He watched, in disbelief, at many of the things he had just seen. Leyla’s scythe was gone promptly, and she took a few steps, calling back to them.
“We go. Now. Hurry.” The three of them made haste to go with her, and they were turning around a hedge garden on the other side of the block in nearly five seconds, whilst still staying at a walking pace. “Hell, who was it that said we’d find nothing…” Raimyd sneered shortly, before noticing his friends own kind of sarcasm.
“W-What…” Gabryl found that he could make himself speak coherently, distracted with what he had seen, and the brisk pace he was forced to keep up. Medea brought up a hand to his face.
“First, Gabey, we’ll get where it’s safe, then we’ll talk.”
“Maybe some food too; it’s gotta be close to lunch time.” Raimyd mumbled, but this was one of the few things he said that Gabryl had to agree with. He’d stay quiet for now, but, when they made it back would probably be spilling out questions, left and right. So, he just nodded, making sure Medea saw, and she did, giving him a strange look before looking forward once more. Five minutes later, they had managed to hustle back to their starting point; across the street from the inn, only to see another shocking sight. Gabryl almost gasped even, more out of awe than anything though.
Clustered around the doors, trying to shove their way in, were Reapers. Gabryl had at first thought that these were the ones returning from that morning trip he had seen after waking up, but there were far more; all dressed differently, of varying ages and sizes and colors. Raimyd gave more of an exhausted sigh though, compared to any exclamation Gabryl would have expressed.
“Well damn, there goes hopes of a meal when I actually order it.” Leyla gave a nod, scanning the unfamiliar mob of Reapers, trying to get in to get their own room, or maybe just to eat like Raimyd. Still, while she knew that some Reapers liked to get to the inn the day before the raid, or even before that, these numbers were something completely new. She knew that there could only be trouble, and replied to Raimyd, blinking a few times.
“Yeah, they’re definitely a little early.”
- Status