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Killing Hour

The killing hour - an hour not dissimilar to the witching hour. Only no witches came out to play, reapers got to have their fun without disruption. 12:00 o'clock on the dot was the perfect time for ferrying souls to the underworld. My job was to make sure they died at the right time on the correct day.

The job itself wasn't to eventful when everything went to plan as it did on most days. Those who tried to fight were just annoying which is why Grim and I had turned it into a challenge to see to could kill the person first or simply ensure they died.

Slipping my hands under my hood, I gathered my ebony locks into a rough ponytail and pushed to hairband off of my wrist to secure it on my head. I didn't want to appear unprofessional to my 'client'. A black shroud hung around a group of people close to my right. One of those people had to be the soul I was looking for. Dragon claws scratched the inside of my stomach, burning flames tickled the cuts they made and strong jaws tightened around my midriff. Screw the client.

I needed food.

My teeth sunk into the freshly baked bread as I shoved spoonfuls of soup down my throat. Flavours bounced off my tongue and slid happily down into my belly sating the weird dragon stomach for another few hours. Tick. Tick. Tick. The client wasn't dying but instead sitting next to me eating a cookie. A chocolate chip cookie of all things. The lack of ominous omens and foreshadowing was unbelievable.

My dagger easily allowed my hand to grasp the worn leather hilt. The comfortable position of my hand wrapped around my father's dagger comforted the urge to help this man have a safe passage through the gate.

Apart from his steely expression, this man looked rather handsome. A black rune was scrawled on the back of his bare neck in random lines and numbering. His face was clean shaven and he looked much more awake than anyone else at this small table. Guilt always tugged at my heart whenever I stopped to look at my clients' faces.

"Nice Rune, bud." My voice snaked out of my mouth like liquid velvet. "Wanna see mine?" A soft smile and he was mine. I stood and offered an elegant hand. The client didn't stop to hesitate before grabbing my hand as if I was about to shatter if he didn't. Carefully tugging him into the darkest side alley, I locked lips with him. Chocolate lingered on his lips as I seduced him.

"What's your name, honey?"

"Black Widow." His body constricted when my dagger slid into his skin. Beautiful crimson blood coated the tip of the blade which I cleaned as Grim apparated beside me. One nodd and I was no longer needed. Grim would take care of the actual ferrying. Meanwhile though...

...that man never finished his cookie...