An Anthology of Death

Hour Zero

We all have the same 24 hours. At least, humanity does. Mine stopped in the late 19th century. Grisly and painful, he had me begging by the end. Oh the memories. It makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

For humans, these 24 hours vary greatly. Whether that is to help a friend or negate an enemy. To argue or to save a life or even the simplest act of a kiss. I am a Reaper you see. You may call me... I guess it doesn't matter. One man once called me Dante.

I watch all these mundane things and slowly carry each soul that falls into eternal bliss.

I stand at my post. No one can see me. They do not know that someone is there. Someone is wishing for them to be alive. Some of them at least. It's grown rather tedious over the years.

Scurrying away from her attacker, the young frail woman screams and yells. She pleads to a god that has deemed for her time to be up. I have never understood, and I guess I have never needed to understand why they plead to Him.

Crimson blood is dripping from pale lips whilst her heart hammers against its cage. She raises her arms, crying from almond eyes. Bruises mark her tanned skin, hair knotted atop of her skull. With her clothes torn, she pleads against to this nameless attacker.

Crouching atop of the plain brown kitchen bench, I can almost smell the stench of this man. He smells of this nasty odour that even hell could not top. His grin chiming at the sound of her sobs as he beats her harder and harder.

"You can save this one," a voice chimes from the dark, "You have the power to... demon."

Rolling my eyes, I snarl back, "And who are you?"

"I've been assigned to... Watch you."

"Oh, so you are a newbie. Hi, my name is Dante. Welcome to hell."

Stern bright green eyes appear from the darkness, as blonde fuzzy hair poofs about. His golden skin not even marked, moves behind his white dress suit. Angels. Bunch of show ponies to me. God's little favourites. They harp about how mighty they are but they truly are useless.

"I haven't seen you before," I laugh continuing on from his silence, "Gabriel had enough of me?"

Making a mental note of needing to go to the Department about this one, my eyes turn back to the scene. The lamp. Oh what a terrible way to die. Licking my lips, the man is fuming, hatred pouring off.

"I will not address you demon," the angel snaps, crossing his arms and staring in sorrow at the half beaten woman dying on the floor. He glides over to her, cupping her cheek, "Why won't you save her?"

"You really are new, it is not my job to save her."

He snarls angrily, huffing and puffing some almighty...

SNAP

The angel screams as everything in the room begins to quiet. Only the heaving of the man, slumming his guts on the white tiles brings us back to reality. The woman stills, her breath leaving her body as finally she remains in peace.

With a bolt to the door, the perpetrator leaves, running down the  stairs in a fit of madness. Cocking my head to the side, I sigh loudly. Slowly strolling to the door, the angel grabs my arm.

"Where are you going? Why would you leave her like that?"

"My task wasn't her."

With a sickening thud, there's screams outside. Following the orchestra, I go outside to the chaos and noise. There his body lay, arm stretched out from beneath the truck, mouth open in a scream... His corpse beautifully contorted in ways I didn't even believe humans could be. With blood pouring, I make my way to the perpetrator staring in horror at his body."

Smiling at him, I bow, "My name is Dante, welcome to hell."

"No, no, no, no, no!" With a puff of smoke, he was gone.

I could hear wrenching behind me as the angel in on his hands and knees, tears in his eyes.

For an angel, this guy was such a sissy.

"How could you be so heartless?"

I held up my hands, "Shit happens kiddy, we have another twenty three hours to go. Come on."