Diagnosed 2.0 (Rewritten)

Chapter I: The Challenges of Reaping

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The film burst from the limp body on the floor. The sound of the cinematic record echoed through the empty alleyway. A man laid on the floor coughing, struggling for oxygen, and trying to scream for help, all without success.

The man's name was Liam Coleman: husband to Mia Coleman, father of two twin girls, a screenwriter, a minor actor and entertainer. Images of the victim's life were presented in the rectangles of the film strip. Eyes scanned through each one. The first images was of the man in his early childhood. The next were the memories he shared with his wife. The last images were of him starting to climb up in his performing career. He was no William Shakespeare. His writing never went farther than the neighborhood theatres. His acting and entertainment shows had never been the most well known. This was in his 20 years of being part of theatre. His career was not taking much of a turn.

The coughing and gags stopped. The clicking of the record slowed down until they ceased. The alleyway went silent.

A man's figure stood over the victim's body.

"Liam Coleman. Cause of death: heart attack. Time of death," He spoke with a foreign accent and a deep tone. They slid the sleeve of their jacket up to reveal a wristwatch, "11:05 p.m. on March 15th, 1889." The figure let out a sigh.

"You know," Another voice, this time softer and quieter, rang through the alleyway, "he was coughing and pleading for mercy and yet we couldn't spare him. This job seems to get more difficult with every reaping. Do you think so too, Eric?"

The man took a few steps toward the other, letting the dim moonlight reveal himself. His hair was sandy blonde that falls to his left side. The right part was a dark brown that was knotted in cornrows. Over the his emerald green eyes were glasses slightly tinted purple. He wore a loose fitted suit, jacket buttons undone, and a tie hung around his neck.

"Ye think so, Alan?" Eric replied.

The other stepped beside Eric. Alan had a smaller frame than Eric, along with a foot of height missing compared to the other. His umber hair was cut short, the longest strand not going past the bottom of his ears. Alan wore a black suit, but the jacket was buttoned up and around his neck hung a bolo tie with a skull design on the slide clip. Just like Eric, Alan had green eyes and wore glasses with oval shaped lenses.

"Sometimes I do, yes," Alan confessed, his expression was grim.

There was a moment of silence before Alan spoke once again, "I think it's time to go. It's getting late and Spears will get irritated at us if this report isn't turned in by tomorrow." With a swift sound of a whoosh  Alan was gone. Eric let out another sigh, then he too was gone. All that was left was a near empty alley way and all that was heard was a shout from the main street.