Reaper Society

Chapter 29: Hell is Empty...

It happens again. The endless darkness in front of my face makes me want to cringe back, look away, look anywhere else. But I can't. I can't move, can't scream, can't breathe. Over and over, the lash of heat and sting of pain jolts throughout my body. This nightmare is the same as all the others- and yet...

The empty, black eyes take an adjusted step away from me, allowing me to get a glimpse at the thing that's been haunting me for the last month. It's a thing with thick lines of black banded around its eyes and mouth, barely contrasting against the dark grey shading of the rest of it's form. The place where it's mouth should be, however, is simply a line that parts and closes, exposing jagged rows of dripping-black fangs. There's no hair on it's slick form, no clothing, no sign of humanity.

It has a long body, similar to that of a centipede, with jutting limbs every hand-span that seem to double as both hand and foot. There's no denoting marks of gender, just a long, almost flat body supported by it's odd limbs. When it moves, it's body is almost serpent-like, smoothly transitioning to carry the thing so it's face is always level with mine.

"The Descendant has returned to us," It screeches out the words in a half-garbled mess of too-high-pitched sounds and choked syllables. A slice of terror and chill of horror slip down my spine as it seems to look past me. Past me towards something- or someone - I can't see. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle with a new awareness. One of being watched - not by the thing in front of me, but the thing behind. I hear the clipped tapping of footsteps against solid ground as the feeling intensifies.

My non-existent skin is crawling and the very essence of my being seems to shudder in repulsion as the the unseen thing draws closer. My demonic guard bows, or maybe 'falls to it's belly' is more accurate, as it's whole front seems to lay parallel to the ground, resting on it's centipede legs. The 'face' of the thing dips so low I swear it's forehead touches the ground. Something tells me that the minion is low on the chain of command compared to whatever is behind me.

My whole body feels repulsed as the horrific feeling of wrongness starts to warp into something more disgusting. If I were able to, I'd be throwing up the food I just ate and scraping at my skin in an attempt to rip off the feeling of being violated. And then I see it- or should I call it him? Whereas the thing that had greeted me when I came here seems to have no gender, this creature before me now definitely does.

He stand tall, well over eight feet tall if I had to guess from my own up-right position, the literal tendrils of flame streaming from his head reminding me of a cartoon depiction of Hades from a movie I once watched. The color is black though, not red or blue...Black flames that seem to dance gleefully as the glittering obsidian eyes burn through me. These eyes aren't empty, though there are no whites to be seen - like the minion still laying prostrate behind him - they are...I can't help but compare them to that of pure malice. Evil and cruel, pure and unapologetically-awful in their sharpness and intensity. I want to gauge them out on principle - or run away screaming.

He - and this is where I assume 'he' is a 'he' - is completely naked. The sinuous body of this male is all ripped muscle and absolutely no fat, the strangest shade of ash-covered-embers, a dusty hue of reddish-grey that leads me to the conclusion that 'he' is not human. Duh. And then there's the thing below the muscles that make up the 'v' of his hips. If I were to go by human-standards, I'd say this male is rather excited to see me, though there seems to be no real sexual interest in this male's expression. Unless that's what turns him on?

There's a horrible conflict of oily-warmth and repulsing-shudders that roll through me as his eyes roam over me. It's nothing like the way I feel when Asher looks at me, but still...oddly familiar.

"So she has," The newcomer says in a silken voice than seems to coil around me like a snake's caress. Cold and all-encompassing, sliding against my body in a gag-worthy rasp of dryness and creepy-crawly intent. His look of appraisal makes the hard, unforgiving edges of his chiseled face become impossibly sharper, making him seem even more like Evil personified. "No longer human, I see." He takes a step closer to me, the towering height of him making my field of vison line up with his broad chest.

I want to rage against whatever's holding me down, scream for help, anything. But I don't move as the sickening feel of this male's body seems to slowly press against the very essence of me. Chilling and vile, it coils around me, slippery as an eel and a thousand times worse than that feel of ichor against my skin. I feel it's horrible corruption slowly, oh so terribly slowly, infecting me, creeping into the microscopic fractures I never new existed inside my soul.

Without warning, the brightness that I felt when I was casting erupts from me, forcing the corruption to burn up in a wave of power. My body seems to actually twitch as this happens, the sudden motion of my dream-body literally making the male before me jerk back as though burned. He lets out a hiss of annoyance, glittering black eyes turning hard and uncompromising as they search mine.

"Not so easy to break," He seems to mutter to himself, the words muttered so softy they're not audible to me, who's less than a foot away from him. "How interesting." He says this part aloud, the almost-interest in his eyes expanding to curiosity that makes me want to throw up. Something tells me the very last thing I want to be is 'interesting' to this being. Whatever he is, it's clear it's not good to catch his attention. Even if this is a nightmare- which I'm seriously doubting because, let's face it, there's no fucking way my brain could ever concoct this shit.

I don't know how the fuck I've gotten here, but I want out. Right fucking now-

"No." The male says chillingly, uncompromisingly. "You will remain here until I wish otherwise." He's speaking directly to me it seems, his direct gaze locked on mine.

My body and my mind seem to be in complete agreement now that the power has flooded me once. The heat of it is now warring against the invisible bonds that are keeping me here, but there's no real show that anything is happening. Just a feeling I get, a sort of intuition. Or maybe it's wishful thinking.

Whatever, I choose to believe in the parts of me I never knew existed before I became a Reaper, focusing on the uncompromising power within me and willing it to work faster.

The male's perfectly proportional mouth tips up at the corners in a horrific smile of smugness and self-righteous content, completely ignorant to the fact that I'm not going to stay here. Not if I can help it.

"Perhaps I should thank you." He suddenly says. The warming-up of my power seems to react as I would, cringing like the male's just bitch-slapped me with his words. "Thanks to you," Evil-incarnate tells me, leaning in so our faces are level. "Legions of my most devoted have escaped to Earth when you and yours attempted to close the Gate." That horrible upturning of his lips is a full-faced grin that makes the oily grossness press more forcefully against me. "At this very moment, my devoted are setting up all over that pitiful land humans call a continent and are preparing themselves to colonize the lesser of their kin. Soon enough-" My power bursts from me in response to his words, and it's like I've become a Reaper-canon, blasting out of Hell and back to my own body before he can continue.