Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

IV - The Sinclairs

Dad cleared his throat.

"You're going to be late," he said taking a sip from his coffee cup before burying his face on the morning paper.

"I'm done," I mumbled, poking the cereal with my spoon.

My eyes hurt from the lack of sleep. Honestly, I didn't feel like going to school. But I would rather be anywhere else than stay cooped up with Dad in this creepy house.

As I picked up my backpack, the obituaries on Dad's newspaper caught my attention. I sneaked behind Dad while he was still reading. My thoughts were racing as I scanned the names there.

What if Lindsay was right? If those were really bad guys who kidnap and kill people while they were sleeping?

Luckily, there was no Thomas who died today. A sigh of relief left my lips.

Dad threw me an impassive glance before he headed to his truck. Without a word, I grabbed my backpack and followed him. I let myself into the shotgun seat and kept my eyes on the road as he drove. The Jack Skellington bobble-head figure on the dashboard made me drowsy. Soon my lids drooped in exhaustion.

Suddenly, I found myself standing in front of the Thomas' house again. I was dreaming. I knew because everything seemed fuzzy and a red sort of mist wafted from the ground.

My mouth moved against my will. I spoke with a voice that wasn't mine, mechanically chanting in an alien language I had never even heard of. I recognized the owner of that voice—the silver-eyed boy from last night.

Looking down at myself, I saw a small, skinny body clad in a black suit. When I tried to move, a pair of pale, frail hands moved at my sides. I realized that I wasn't just speaking with the boy's voice. In this dream, I was the boy.

The door in front of me creaked open on its own. This time, it wasn't empty.

A little girl emerged from the hallway. She wore a purple frilly dress that stretched to her ankles. Only, she didn't have feet. She was floating.

An old lamppost flickered to life. The light passed through the girl's translucent form. Right then, I figured out that she was a ghost.

I wasn't afraid for some reason. Maybe it was because I knew this was a dream. Or perhaps, because this boy I was in had been so used to seeing ghosts that it didn't affect him anymore.

I stopped the chanting and faced the girl.

"Leave their spirits be or face eternal damnation." The alien words came out my mouth easily as if I had said them a million times before.

The girl fidgeted with her auburn locks and giggled mischievously. In a split second she shot up to the roof and hovered over my head. The girl's face contorted into a lopsided grin, the wind howling around us as she shrieked malevolently.

She pirouetted in midair, the wind spiraling around her. It swayed the trees around and sent the dead leaves in the air.

"Amyr," I called calmly at the brown-skinned man behind me.

Amyr's round eyes narrowed as he nodded knowingly and positioned himself to protect me. The incomprehensible chanting flowed from my lips once more, this time more forcefully.

"Embrace death, depart from the Living! See the light to the Gates!"

I could feel warmth, a powerful force surging through my body. The invisible force seeped out from my fingertips rushing to the hovering girl, binding her like invisible ropes.