Hidden Meanings

Enter the Reaper [OS]

A new story idea I've been working on, this is where the main character meets a secondary character.

The chill of the air heavily weighed on my shoulder as I walked through the halls.

"Tyria."

I stiffened a considerable amount, my arms frozen by my side. I knew that voice, despite never seeing the face.

"Sir," I said stiffly, dropping into what I thought was a bow.

With dark green eyes, and night-colored hair, Oblivion gave off the vibe of a child ready to kill. Scars marred his entire body, white and red streaks marking every inch of his face.

"How nice to finally meet you," he commented, and I bit my lip to hold back a string of unholy curse words.

"You as well," I replied, searching his face for any emotion. I found none. "I suppose you're going to the meeting."

"I am."

"It's that way," I said flatly, jutting a thumb behind me.

Oblivion thanked me with a nod, shouldering past me.

"You're welcome," I grumbled as the back of his jet-black hair disappeared before starting again.

My eyes were cast to the ground, but my hand found itself resting on a doorhandle. I looked up, peering at the small imprint. "1218," I muttered.

This is a correct room.

Then the other voice in my head that was formed due to being the only follower of Oblivion said Are you afraid? You'll always been afraid, always scared.

"Shut up," I hissed before roughly opening the door.

It was almost empty. And I thought I was the only one there since he was silent.

I was so sure I would be the first one here...

My eyes were locked on the dozing man at the other end of the table. He seemed maybe my age, possibly two or three years younger. Twenty, perhaps?

"Hello," the stiffness was evident in my words. I didn't expect him to answer, but his eyes didn't open.

"Oblivion's First, correct?"

I clenched my jaw, and his eyes flicked open. They were an unnatural tint of amber, slightly obscured by the ruffled bangs peeking out of his hood. "Yes."

"Pleasure to finally meet you," he answered, moving up from his chair. I was sure the chair moved, but it made no sound. "I am Master Death's First."

"A Reaper," I sneered. I personally hated the Reapers the most out of the the ranks, and one reason was since they suckered up and didn't move on from their ranks.

Like I did.

"Yes, I am a Reaper."

I had heard about Death's First, or his only commander. I didn't know anything else besides the fact he was a First.

"Since I'm guessing you won't give me your name, I'll give you mine. It's Rivel."

With that, he removed his hood, revealing a unkempt mop of spiked up red hair. Without the shadows of the fabric covering his face, the sharp features almost made it look like he was nineteen.

"Rivel the Reaper," I repeated, deciding to give him my name for the hell of it. "I'm Tyria."