Don't Fear the Reaper

Don't Fear the Reaper: Epilogue

Epilogue

               He stood alone, under the streetlight, whose bulb flickered dimly. His broad shoulders rested on the post, which had become cold at this time of the night. He loved this weather. Cool gusts of wind swept across his bare hands, and a part of his chest which was revealed through his unbuttoned black shirt. The sky was a dark grey, even with the light of the moon, and the clouds were stormy. It could rain any minute.

His deep-set green eyes gazed at the cigarette he was lighting with careful, sharp fingers. Slowly, he craned his head back as he exhaled the first puff of smoke.

               “Nex!”

He remembered her voice, her ringing laughter, and the way untidy waves of her jet black hair framed her face.

But what did she mean to him now?

Nothing.

“I will remember you in all the lifetimes to come.”

He had kept his word. It would not be easy to forget the memories he had made with her. However, as far as emotions were concerned, he was emotionally stripped from her.

He watched, expressionless, as the second puff of smoke escaped his lips.

A part of him wished that he knew what it had felt like, in her presence. A part of him wished that she was here with him, to explain everything all over again.

He ignored that part of him.

“Why must I trust you?”

“Because I love you.”

He scoffed. He had been a fool, to let himself get carried away. He was a Reaper; he couldn’t imagine indulging himself in all of that. It made things unnecessarily complicated.

But he did know one thing: she had been different, extraordinary in his eyes, a girl who had made him submit unintentionally against the rules of the book.

And that was why he would remember her forever.

               A young woman stood not far away from him, beside a sign that said, Bus Stop. She had lush, waist-length brown hair and a round, child-like face. Her arms were loaded with shopping bags and she was wearing layers to protect herself from the cold.

She caught his gaze.

Trying to be polite, she smiled nervously at the stranger.

He returned the smile warmly: a smile, she failed to notice, that did not reach his eyes.

She relaxed, and gaze still on him, her foot left the pavement.

               The driver of the next bus wasn’t planning to make this stop. He had no passengers at this time of the night and he was behind schedule.

There was a loud screeching of tires as the bus took the turn.

The woman had no time to react, let alone think, when the bus hit her and went on its way. She was flung to the side of the pavement. Her breathing had stopped even before she hit the ground. Her shopping bags, covered in her own blood, lay scattered around her.

He walked briskly towards her, still smoking. Before touching her forehead, he paused for a second’s consideration.

It didn’t make the slightest difference to him.

Slowly, he bent down, and sharp fingers traced her forehead.

               A bright, glowing light erupted at its tips. Just as slowly, it condensed to from a brilliantly silver pearl, which took its rightful place in the hourglass dangling from his neck.

And just as slowly, his brisk footsteps faded at the bend of the road, with a puff of smoke still lingering in the air.

 ***** 

And it's done.

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And if you read this till here, thank you for sticking with Claire and Nex until the end. :)