Dedicated to @Lov1ngShahrukh without whose persistent coaxing this book might have never come out of the lone pages of my diary.
An inhuman scream resonated against the cold loneliness of the night. The metal dropped to the ground with a crash and the bleeding body of my assailant, whoever he was, crumpled in a heap. I was too petrified, not out of horror, but out of shock to even glance behind. Those dark swirling mass of black held me captive, I was unable to look away. I had looked at them before, those lively eyes in the lifeless mist of black. Now I remember- at the Governor's ball.
"Ah!" My assailant was shouting in between a string of unmentionable expletives. His gut was cut across and a gore mass of flesh was visible under his hand which he had placed on his stomach to stop the bleeding. I just chanced a glance at him and hastily looked away, trying to fight away my nausea.
The reaper did not spare him a single look and simply tossed away his gun in a dumpster.Then, its eyes clinically inspected me from head to toe as if looking for an injury. When her/his sword's blade had just brused past my stomach I had thought that I was the intended target but her/his attack was precise, centimeters away from me and straight into the stomach or liver ( whatever was doing peek-a-boo) of the hard-jawed man. Giving a final nod as if everything was in order, it turned around and began to leave.
"You little B**ch!" The injured man cried as he got hold of the very sword that had pierced right through him.The reaper turned around and it's eyes widened, clearly it had not expected him to be fit enough to stand up. Well, any normal person would not have been able to do so but this cockney speaker was huge, his muscles were built like a bear and when he growled I was reminded of a Lion. I knew all this because I had observed the man closely in our wild-goose chase, maybe the reaper hadn't. He stood up with a sway and gave another growl, now I'm reminded of a wolf.
I knew what was going to happen next, the blade was going to slash my carotid artery, maybe at 45 degree angle and the reaper was too far to come to my rescue again. Oh dear Lord! Forgive me!
My sword was unsheathed, its momentum made a buzzing sound in the air. My opponents eyes widened, too late to come to his defence. Now what do they say-' Never underestimate your enemy!' An incision at the carotid and my opponent fell down- lifeless.
My breath accelerated. Oh Dear Lord! I killed a man, I'm a sinner. I seek your forgiveness, please , please.......
A figure sat next to me, cleaned my sword and handed it over.
"Are you alright ?" The voice was muffled, it belonged either to a female or to a pre-pubescent boy.
I nodded my head numbly, feeling guilty and mostly ashamed- ashamed of the thrill that pumped through my vein, the thrill of the kill.
I again glanced into those eyes and they appeared shocked, shocked that I have killed a man. "Who are you?"
Only silence met my question.
"Are you the Grim Reaper?"
This time a chuckle escaped her( yes! it has to be a 'her') lips. I wondered if she was so habitual to the sight of blood that now it has numbed her.
" By my profession yes, but I'm not the mythical one that carries a scythe."
" Why did you save me?"
Again quietness.
" Answer me!" My voice echoed in the dead alley, it sounded hoarse- lifeless.
The figure stared at me unmoving, uncaring .
"I was not expecting you to kill him." She finally said.
"Neither was I."
"You are surprisingly fast with your sword, quite skilled too."
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A Fall through time(Once upon a time)
Ficção HistóricaPreviously known as "Once upon a time".(Currently undergoing major changes) Winner of Wattpad India's Judges choice Award for Mystery/ Thriller That black leather bounded journal sitting on the last shelf of my grandfather's study had always intrigu...