The Rhyme Reaper

The Rhyme Reaper: Episode 1

The muffled beat pulsed from Marcus’s small basement room, lyrics spilling from his lips at breakneck pace. Only the bare bulb swaying from the ceiling witnessed this display of lyrical prowess - but that was enough for Marcus. Lost in his craft, he scrawled out stanzas glorifying ancient battles, memorializing fallen warriors...themes seeming too grave and complex for a fourteen year old.

“Marcus!” The shout made him flinch, his flow stuttering. “Turn it down already!”

With a sigh, Marcus clicked off the music, letting the sudden silence swallow his words. Why couldn’t they understand? Notebook open, he pulled out a pen and began writing instead, hand shaking with intensity, fully immersed in conjuring ideas...ideas some might call dark, eerie even for one his age. Ideas that even he knew came from a troubled mind seeking escape.

Upstairs, his mother massaged her throbbing temples, wondering why she couldn’t have a normal teenage son into video games or chasing girls? Why did Marcus have to be so lost in that frightening world of his - filling pages with rhymes about death, pain and ghosts? If only his father were still around to discipline the darkness out of him.

The crumpled papers in Marcus’s trash testified to past attempts from teachers and counselors addressing what they labeled his “morbid obsession”. Their efforts only led him to bury himself deeper within, using lyricism to shield his true self. Until high school when his inner demons found a more receptive audience, hungry for every chilling verse...

The creak of the basement door barely registered as Marcus barreled onward into the haunted chambers of his mind, giving form to personal monsters through raw, unearthed words from his darkest spaces...

Marcus slammed the grimy door to his new apartment, the empty walls and bare mattress a reflection of his sullen mood. He ripped the headphones off his ears, music still blasting. At least here he could play his tracks aloud instead of locked away in some drab basement.

College hadn't turned out like he hoped. He still felt alone, invisible. People just didn't understand him or the cryptic poetry flowing through his veins. His internship at the hip hop magazine had him transcribing shallow lyrics about money and fame - not the deep universal themes he yearned to explore.

Marcus sank onto the creaky floor mattress, head in hands. Maybe trying to deny who he was only led to this hollowness eating at his core. His true soul craved wrestling with the macabre and mystical unknown hidden beneath the surface layers of reality. Like a calling...

A faint sound made him glance up. Muted sobs seemed to echo from the other side of the flaking plaster wall. The weeping faded, replaced by footsteps and the opening of a door near his.

Driven by instinct, Marcus rushed outside to catch a glimpse of his mysterious neighbor. Under the flickering hallway lighting, he spotted a slim figure disappearing down the stairwell, long raven hair flowing over her shoulders. As she turned briefly, his breath caught at the sight of a pale, delicately featured face - dark haunted eyes filled with unspeakable pain.

Then she was gone, leaving Marcus filled with burning curiosity and inexplicable longing...a longing to unravel the secrets locked behind the depths of those eyes that had known invisible worlds of longing and despair. To channel their mystical secrets into lyric and verse once more.