Death's Angel

Chapter 2

Reaper sipped on a cup of coffee as his eyes scanned the room as people walked past him.

"Flight 223, ready for boarding!" The woman over the intercom announced.

Reaper took one last sip before disposing of the cup and boarded on the plane. Reaper stared out the window, keeping to himself as the plane soared through the sky.

Beside him, an older man sat as he flapped his gums, discussing, more like belittling the new world around him and how it was better back then. In front of him sat a bunch of groupies, taking selfies and giggling like a bunch high school girls. And as usual a kid and his mom sat behind him. The kid was kicking Reaper's seat while his mom was snoring loudly.

'Such a fun flight,' Reaper thought as he rolled his eyes and huffed. All he could do was sit and endure it. The flight finally landed in New Orleans and Reaper couldn't have been the happiest that he'd ever been-practically running into the airport. His phone dinged.

Carefully taking out his phone, his eyes scanned the message: Welcome to New Orleans! You have been booked into the Marion Hotel. Good luck Mr. Rogers.

Reaper chuckled in amusement as he put away his phone. Pushing through the crowd, Reaper managed to make it out of the airport. He looked around, a taxi, uber, or something that could easily get him somewhere, anywhere. All the cabs were taken and there was no uber anywhere.

The only option was the bus, the stinky and crowded bus. He wasn't a fan of it at all but he wasn't gonna bring attention to himself by hijacking a car, that was the last thing that he needed considering his line of work.

Reaper felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Mr. Rogers?" A voice asked. "Who's asking?" Reaper questioned. "A friend." The voice answered. Reaper scoffed a little. "Sorry kid but I don't have any friends." Reaper trudged along the crowded streets, shoving people off of him.

"Of course you do, everyone has friends." The voice asked. Reaper rolled his eyes and ignored them. The person ran in front of him and turned around to face him, walking backwards with a smile on their face and hands behind their back.

"You need a ride, don't you? Well luckily for you, you bumped into the right guy." Reaper sighed and stopped. He took a good look at the "kid" in front of him. Had to be at least nineteen years old from where they stood. He was tall, that was for sure, nice fade, facial hair, and black eyes. Tattoos on his arms and studs in his ears.

"I don't know how you know me but I think you better get lost. I'm not the one you wanna be seen with." Reaper pushed past him and kept walking. The kid grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. "I have a name." He said. "I know you do but I don't care to learn it." Reaper replied. The kid groaned and shook his head.

"Are you always like this when people try to help you?" "No, I'm only like this when I'm with my friends." The kid cursed under his breath. "Look, I know this place like the back of my hand and the only way you'll get to where you need to go is with me." He told him, "Either you let me help you or you try to figure out your way around possibly getting scammed in the process, your pick."

Reaper grumbled and looked down at his feet before looking back up at him.

"Fine." The kid glowed at his response.

"The names' Izaak." "I didn't ask."