Reaper Society

Chapter 7: Hell is a Place on Earth

The very first thing I learn as a Reaper-in-training: portals suck ass. Asher leads me out of the training hall and down an oddly long corridor, through two weird-shimmering archways, and right into another archway- Except this one isn't like the others. The others felt like they were touching me or walking through wet cob webs... This one feels like I've been shredded all over again and sent through the worlds longest, winding tunnels of burning fire before being put back together again - in reverse.

The second my feet touch solid ground I crumple to my knees and heave bile, my stomach revolting against the sudden travel. Asher says nothing as I wretch over and over, my head ringing and body on fire. Everything hurts. Even the feel of the black jumpsuit against my skin or the fucking chill of the air on my exposed skin. I keep my eyes shut, because, of course, they're overly sensitive too. Despite being closed, I feel like I'm being stabbed in the brain from the blinding shock of light blazing behind my eyelids. The thumping in my skull feels like the grey matter within is trying to explode.

"You handled the portal-jump pretty well." Asher's sex-operator voice booms in my ear and I open my eyes to glare at him, crouched beside me. I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not so I decide not to spit at him and roll my aching eyes instead. The simple movement sends fresh prickles of agony along the nerves in my eyes, making the sockets burn. But it's worth it.

"You could have fucking warned me." I growl at him, my voice is raw again. Either with the sudden burn of bile or maybe I was actually screaming on the way here...I don't really give a shit as to which it is, I just want the pain to go away.

"Experience is the best teacher." He replies blandly. I can't help but wonder if I try to punch him now that he'll have enough time to stop me...but decide against it, not wanting to move too quickly even if my body doesn't feel like it's about to combust now.

"Then what the hell do I need you for?" I quip back, able to manage that much before nausea makes my lips press tighter and has me swallowing to stop the empty heaving of my stomach. His stoic face cracks the tiniest degree, a flare of mischievous light entering his creepy-ass reddish-brown eyes. The tiny up-tick of a smile teasing the corner of his full lips becomes a smirk that's nothing like the smile I was hoping for. I think I've just pissed him off. That or he's thinking up some fresh-evil-hell to throw at me.

"That's the spirit." He tells me, the chilling tone of his voice contrasting with the gravely nature and sending fresh shivers and tingles zinging through my already hyper-aware nerve endings. I swallow another dry-heave, turning my head away from him before I lose all semblance of self-control. I still don't know if I want to kiss him or kill him. Emotional-whiplash is too simple of a term for this weirdness. "Break time's over. Let's go." Asher tells me and stands up straight, striding away from so gracefully it hurts my brain to watch. Or maybe it's just my brain hurting in general.

"You got this, Nia," I encourage myself as I try to follow him. The second I'm vertical, however, the nausea triples and my muddled head threatens to burst again. A cascade of pain skates up my spine, mental alarm bells chiming in the back of my head.

"Hurry up, Puppy-Chow!" Asher hollers back to me, not even bothering to look over his shoulder to see if I'm following or not. I grab at my stomach with one arm and my head with the other as I stumble after, letting out a colorful string of curses as I attempt to trail after my instructor. After a few steps, the jarring pain of each footfall begins to fade. Incrementally, all the aching slows to a low throb. I finally drop my arms, no longer afraid I'm about to turn into a puddle on the ground if I don't attempt to keep myself intact.

Once my vision returns to normal, and I can look around without my eyes feeling like they're going to liquify in my skull, I see that we're in some small town. On Earth, I assume, since the laws of gravity seem familiar here and there's the sun hanging high in the sky. I let out a hiss of breath, letting the cloud of vapor fill my vision and frowning a little at it. It's cold here, no doubt about it, but I can't seem to feel it like I used to. The chill is muted against my skin - or maybe it's just not registering right after the weird portal-jump and subsequent scrambling of my atoms.

I'm too busy trying to keep up with Asher as he walks out of the alley we ended up in and onto a busy street to really dwell on it. The town we're in isn't as big as the one I lived in, but there's a sizeable crowd meandering along the streets and a decent amount of cars on the single-file lanes that interrupt the blocks. I'm almost relieved to see people going about their days without a care in the world, but the reminder that I'm no longer a part of it hits home once again when I wrap my arms around myself.

The thick scarring of my hands and forearms - and the disconcerting distance I feel as I try to warm my now chilling skin - makes the memory of my death flutter to the forefront of my mind. I'm bound to the Reaper Society now. Part of me wonders what would happen if I tried to escape in this crowd, go the other way and get lost amid the people here. Leave and try to hide from my mentor and Blair. To hide from Death.

Another part of me knows the answer, almost instinctually. There's nowhere I could ever hide that they couldn't find me. And once they did, some distant part of me knows without a shadow of a doubt, I'd be shipped off to my original destination of Hell and burn for all eternity like I was supposed to. The very thought of that kind of demise has terror streaking through me, making my still churning gut twist painfully.

Despite the people on the street around me, I feel an odd sense of loneliness as I continue following Asher, a few people ahead of me.

Suddenly, the spot on my forehead Blair had touched that night begins to warm and tingle. I stop dead in the street, frowning and looking around as something in the back of my mind whispers a warning. I try to concentrate on the odd sensation now flowing through me, like I'm trying to remember something, but it's only just out of reach. Ahead of me, Asher stops walking too, then abruptly turns and jogs back through the passersby to stop in front of me.

"It's here." Asher mutters, scanning the streets behind me. The spot on my forehead is still tingling, but it's warmth is now gone. I absently massage the area with one of my hands, feeling nothing but smooth skin under the glove-like affect of my scarred skin. The sensation in my mind has grown into an almost palpable pressure, like a prequel to a headache, but in the very center of my brain.

"What's here?" I frown at him, wondering if he feels this too. Asher doesn't spare me a glance, however, as he continues looking around, but reaches out to grab my arm just below my shoulder and pull me closer to his side.

"Biḍālaḥ ." He replies distractedly, reddish-brown eyes narrowing on the alley at the other side of the street. I wrinkle my nose at the pronunciation.

"Vida-what?" I try to repeat the word, but just like with vṛkaḥ the communication from my ears to my brain and out my mouth is horribly muddled. Asher lets out an annoyed hiss of breath and pulls me towards the alley without clarification. I let out a curse as his strong grip literally has me tripping to catch up with him.

No one looks at us as we quickly cross the busy street and weave around cars. A part of me thinks it's a little weird that no one even gives us a second look, though it's clear they see us. Even stranger, the cars that approach us slow just long enough that Asher's able to maneuver us through the throng effortlessly. Without a single car honking. Even if this was a place where the people in the city were incredibly polite, I still find it incredibly strange how the pedestrians are acting.

When we reach the other side of the street, Asher all but shoves me into the opening of the alley. The sense of pressure in my head intensifies until I smell something horribly familiar. The scent of decay and something wrong.