Memories of the Reaper

Chapter Six

Upon returning to his room, Derek Grey found it unlocked—something he never forgot to do. Steeling his resolve, the boy turned the knob and walked inside, expecting the worst.

Yet, nothing was amiss—well, no more than usual, anyway.

The building he lived in hadn't been renovated in decades and had been built at the end of the second World War. The wall paint was chipped and the floor tiles were often cracked at the corners. The air conditioning unit was a bulky grey box underneath the window that hadn't been changed out for almost twenty years; the temperature knob had been plugged to keep students from tampering with it, so the only setting Derek could change was the fan speed. It wasn't unusual to find spiders and other bugs taking up residence in the corner closets. Since he lived on the first floor, more bugs seemed to be in his room than others, but glue traps tended to keep them in line.

Derek's room was a ten-foot by ten-foot room with a twelve-foot-high ceiling. His bed was in the corner, lofted to fit a desk, a mini-fridge, a small bookshelf, and a trashcan full of empty energy drinks underneath it. He had a few books lying haphazardly on the desk, pages strewn with passages of mythology, astral projection, and the afterlife. There was a door on the far wall, containing a small closet which stored most of his personal belongings, but that wasn't saying much. Derek owned four sets of clothes, and two pairs of shoes. He used the same backpack he'd had for the last six years, held together more by duct tape than by fabric. James Cordoven had always offered to buy him new clothes and equipment, but the boy always declined. He already felt too indebted to the provost to ask for more.

Derek felt his stomach rumble. I forgot to eat again, he thought, grimacing as he rummaged through the fridge. Inside, he found a half-eaten pound of turkey slices, provolone cheese, and some bread.

"Mrrrow?" a voice asked. Derek looked back into the room and saw a Calico cat perched by the windowsill.

"Hey, Amber," Derek called out affectionately. His name for the cat was by no means original, but it was fitting for her appearance. Her fur was beautiful: a unique mixture of black and dark brown patches. Personality-wise, Amber reminded him more of a swashbuckling pirate; she strutted with her chin up, unafraid of living in the wilderness with only her claws and her senses to protect her. Even the black fur over her right eye resembled an eye-patch.

Derek had met her for the first time only a month ago. She had come to his window while he had been reading, watching him with her neck craned through the frame—it was the last time he had left it open and unlocked. Amber had scared him, making him fall out of his chair. As he had collected himself, she proceeded to slink inside and scouted out the dormitory thoroughly; when she deemed it safe, she curled up in the corner and watched him for hours. After that, whenever she showed up, Derek let her in.

Amber came by almost every day now—for the free food, he had no doubt.

Derek lifted the window high enough for the Calico cat to sneak inside, though she remained on the sill, staring past him. "What have you been up to?" he asked, seeing the flecks of dried blood on her claws. She sniffed the air before arching her back, hissing.

"Hey, what is it?" Derek asked. He looked around his room but could see nothing menacing. Turning back, he followed the cat's gaze to the front door.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll go look outside." Derek replied, walking towards the door. Thump! The cat hit the floor behind him and darted between his legs to block him. "Oh, come on, Amber. Watch out." His grin faded into a dissenting frown as the agitated cat stared at the door, her tail swishing through the air.

A dark shadow passed by underneath his door, pausing there. Tap. Tap-tap. Somebody knocked on his door. Silence. Tap! Tap-tap! Derek looked down at the knob as it turned slowly to the left and back to the right. The lock was still engaged, but it was only a small comfort. The knob rattled as more force was applied, and the bald boy felt his spine stiffen in acute fear; he felt a chilling prickle of goosebumps rise on his skin. The shadow, he thought. My God. It's coming back for me. The idea should have seemed preposterous. After all, a lot of students roamed the halls to use the community restrooms, but the feeling was there all the same. Fear.