Unfeeling

Twenty Eight | The Reapers

Alexander

We calls ourselves the Reapers. A group of eight simple people who want nothing more than to shed blood and create chaos.

We had formed over five years ago, drawn to each other in sparring class. We were the only kids who weren't afraid to slam the butt of the knife into our partners skull.

Taylor Creed was a bubbly red headed girl but when cornered, her hair turned to real flame and her personality matched.

You already meet Micah, ex Iniquitous, the humor of the group.

Jasper Padilla was the smart one, his skin was olive and hair dark. He could solve any problem that we ever encountered like

Pierson Davis was a large, brooding, violent brute. You knew better than to cross a man whose favorite weapon was his fist.

Jasmine Angel was a forcefield creator. Considering she was the smallest girl I had ever seen, she needed the shields.

Betty Lewis was the biggest girl I had ever seen. She was rough all over and occasionally turned to stone.

Last but not least, Beck Davies. Beck was a quiet, ruthless killer. He always was a little more off his rocker than the rest of us.

Together, we made hell of a team. We sneak away from camp all the time, plundering, robbing, rapping anything that we can find with a pulse.

Today was one of those trips.

"Today sucks ass. If we haven't found anything yet, we won't find anything at all!" Micah complains.

We were currently in a small forest that touches a meadow just outside of Adana, which was now completely under Iniquitous siege. We had been traveling for hours and haven't had any luck whatsoever. But we had spotted some movement in this forest and were checking it out.

"Is that what you're parents said when they were looking for your dick?" Pierson taunts.

I hold back a smile. The rest of the group doesn't do the same and burst into fits of hearty laughter.

"Actually no. My parents were a bit preoccupied to notice my lack of goods. They were quite busy, you know, killing innocents and all."

I cocked an eyebrow at this but the group onto laughed harder.

"Shut up, morons! No wonder we haven't had any luck. You've been stomping around like drunk idiots," I reprimand.

"We may be acting like drunk idiots, but Micah really is a drunk idiot," Taylor sings lightly. Her freckles look like the Milky Way.

"Careful, fireball. I wouldn't to work you up into flame," Micah responds.

Taylor only grins and shrugs her shoulders. The two of them had always had a connection and it only grew over the years.

"Shut up!" I demand. Micah chuckles but goes silent. A few minutes pass and we spot nothing and no sight of the earlier movement.

"There's nothing out here, little birdy," Micah states.

I glare at him from behind my back and flap my wings, sending a gust of wind slamming into his face.

"Call me little birdy again, see what happens."

"Calm down Mr. Grumps. Don't get all frisky on me," he says with a grin.

I turn to snap at him but I catch sight of Jasper's expression. "Alex." I follow his gaze and find what he's looking at.

A man is laying on the forest floor. A dead man.

"Oh my god! Is he dead?" Jasmine squeaked.

I lean down and roll the body over. The man is scraggly and obviously dead. His neck has a blue and purple line around it. I scan his body and shocked to say the least.

A pin is hooked to his fine clothes. The pin that the king of Adana wears. He does look Noble.

"It's the King," I state.

"The King? Ha, funny!" Micah jokes. I glare at him.

"You're serious?" He questions, taking in my expression.

"No, I'm lying and this isn't the Kings pin."

The King of Adana is dead. Murdered. I admired the handiwork of anyone who did it. I'd like to meet them someday.