Dissecting The Reaper

Chapter 1

A cold winter's morning, the bloody crooked smile of the sun greeting Death City, appearing every dawn like clockwork. Overtaking that of the moon in a morbidly fleeting action.

I propel myself down the narrow street towards the DWMA school on my laboratory chair, I must admit I've masted the mechanics of using this chair; reducing the critical misjudgements and wrong calculations of my desired paths. Even in battle, I am feared by the students for merely sitting.

I sit here strolling towards my destination, cranking the screw in my head and observing my surroundings, taking note of anything of interest.

Sadly this town lacks anything worth studying - well that's a lie. There is something, something that's been under my nose this entire time and I just recently realised the potential of its intrigue. A peculiar test subject with extreme OCD.

I've been studying him during my class at the DWMA to learn of his pattern, everyone has a pattern; a way they live their meaningless lives. It can be their habits, their countenance, their friends. I just have to find this weakness within my subject and exploit it.

Observing my students from just far away is too easy, it is mere child's play. I lean back in my chair after assigning a project they obediently power through like drones, no thought for the bigger picture, my lit cigarette submerging my face in a layer of smoke and finally to fool any onlookers. I will sit slanted parallel to the light source just so the light reflects off my glasses to conceal the whereabouts of my predatory gaze. Nobody knows what I prey on.

Even if the students get suspicious they always glance at the stitches covering my body. And in my classroom, the stitches are painted across the walls stretched in long asymmetrical patterns to throw people off or to make them think it's holding the room together - such fools. A lab bench is my desk and it's littered with dried blood and scalpels left behind from our dissecting lessons and multiple beakers filled with mixed reactants that formed an array of smells enough to set the senses on fire, but this classroom is all a facade to further my research on my newest subject. Death The Kid - the only living relative of Lord Death.

I continue reclining in my trusted old chair hearing it crack and whine as I do so. Swivelling around on odd occasions looking over my lesson plan for today's upcoming classes, it looks like a resonance lesson with my subject and his deranged friends Maka Albarn, Soul Eater, Black Star, Tsubaki and of course Liz and Patty his moronic weapons.

Such a perfect chance to learn more about Kid.

The students pile in like the sheep they are, entering their little pen to be bossed around by the shepherd. I could tell them anything and they'd believe it, writing it down in their little notebooks without questioning. I could have told them enzymes slowed down chemical reactions and they'd be none the wiser. They are all so boring, so robotic. The only interesting one among them is Kid. Kid, sitting there in his pristine suit with a bored expression on his face, glancing out the window at the world around him rather than listening to me prattle on about dissection. I wonder what he's thinking, he reminda me of me when I was his age. Just a little bit.

Observing my subject. The only thing that doesn't rot my brain with every passing second. The students complain and I admire them somewhat for that. But they relent in the end like they always do, and we end up dissecting some rare bird species I have no real motivation to learn the name of. Once class is over, I keep back Kid, Maka, Soul, Tsubaki and Black Star. And of course, the moronic guns Kid uses, who's names I have chosen to forget. I assign them a time for special training Lord Death requested me to do with them. 

The time for training commences and I stand in the forest clearing, watching the morning dew twinkle on the silk of spider webs. Yet I don't really notice it, for I am in my own head, a shell to the outside world, formulating the plan to experiment on my symmetrical subject. I think to myself - but how to go about it? 

So many possibilities to conduct this experiment but one way stands out from the rest. To seduce the student - making my prey come to me, being the conductor of their own demise. Such an intriguing idea, to force a romantic connection from one who seems oblivious to it.

The golden glow of the sunset over the forest is an enriching view, to say the least, the students should be arriving soon for their training, such an embarrassing case of the "friendship is magic bullshit" will clearly incite far too much emotional drama to be considered normal.

Then again, maybe I'm the one who isn't normal.