Lord Reaper and His 'Wife' [BL]

Chapter 2: Wife Then...

Chapter 2: Wife Then...

“Wait… stop!” He clenched his fist, struggling as two men who wears identical crimson cloaks held his arms on both directions. The downpour of rain erased his shout in any plausible help he could get. But who could possibly walk in the shade of the forest in the middle of the night?

It was hopeless.

The two men holding him captive started to walk forward. Their unnatural strength didn’t even compare to his own that no matter how hard he tried to struggle, they wouldn’t even budge. Hopeless, he was swooped easily towards another set of men in red cloaks. Soon as they all turned around to meet him, the group split in two in order to give way for them make an entrance. The boy was too distracted by their sudden chants. It sounded like a combined murmur of echoes, flooding in his ear that confused him even more.

Soon as they reached the end of men lining for them like an aisle, another sight occupied his thought. Almost like a small version of chromlech; a table like alta r made of stone, t hree rocks stood still supporting a flat surfaced stone that initiates an aura dignified enough to call it holy . However, his wonder turned into panic when the two men leaned his back into the flat stone. His arms were now tied widely as the rock could extend. The rain still pours, looking too sorrowful to the sight of the young man who already figured out what was happening to him.

He’ll be sacrificed.

The chants went louder and louder then it turned into a howl, little by little it turned to become a song, an unpleasant one. The boy looked up the rainy sky, the stars were hidden, wrapped in the sight of ominous clouds but the moon was surprisingly there showing up its dim light from the gap the clouds had made.

This is really my last? He thought, feeling himself set out one insulting grin. Think you can protect me, huh, dad? The cold wind hissed into the space. Chills made him felt the shivers all over his body that no matter how much he wanted to embrace himself to ward off the freezing sensation, his tied up arms and feet reassured no hope for warmth.

The people stopped from chanting. One who holds a scepter in his right hand stepped forward, climbing into the altar towards him with another gibberish chants.

“Fuck, what do you want?! Let me out of here this instance or my dad will all kill you, sick bastards!” he warned.

The group did not falter. It agitated him as he struggled from the ropes again. The lightning started to flicker into the sky, roaring louder and louder with the chants and rain.

“Dammit! Let me out of here!” he cursed.

“ We offer this young man’s body!” the cloaked man standing in front of him rose the scepter in his hand, putting it back down to the level of his chest as he held the knob-like head of the item in his hand and pulled the handle to reveal a blade knife. “We offer this young man’s body!” he chanted once again and all his cloaked subordinates started to chant the same thing.

His heart began to race fast, his body trembled even more not just because of the cold, but also because of the knife that was brought out in front of him. To see how he’ll die would be the worst thing he will have to witness.

“Stop!” The young man shouted at the top of his lungs.

As expected, nobody listened. The man raised the knife above his head, calculating the direction of where the knife will be engraved: to his heart.

“No! Stop—”

At such speed, the knife came swaying down right into his chest. Without hesitation , blood poured out of the young man’s stabbed chest. His fading sight only staring up the rainy, cloudy sky with the last tear his eyes could shed.

“STOP!!! ” Arxian’s eyes flew open, sitting up he started to catch his breath. The torturing nightmare visited him again for the past three days of his coming to the underworld . The time he was killed inflicted unimaginable regret in his memories for days that he’d wake up crying. Clenching his fist and crumpling his blanket, he could feel more tears escaping his eyes.

That night wouldn’t be the last time he’d cry. Embarrassing enough, he’s always been crying every time the dream visited him so vividly. It was annoying. To think that he couldn’t go back to take revenge for what they did to him. As soon as this thought came out, the boy was suddenly enlightened. He looked at his trembling hands and soon turned into the window showing exactly what he needed to see outside: The tallest tower where he had landed from. A theory began escalating his mind, forming a lot of ‘ifs’ and a notion that might take him back to his own world.

He leaped off his large bed, setting his foot to the cold floor as he ran into the window to observe the black tower a distance away from him. Still it stood tall in the middle of the city under the red sky that whether night nor day, the color of the world would never change that it was almost sickening in his eyes the longer he stayed there.

Returning back to his theories, he sighed in defeat. The possibilities he’s thinking had a lot of loopholes. Even if resurrection or rebirth is a possibility, he never saw anything or anyone unusual in that tower to at least support his ideas. His ladder of knowledge was limited about the current world he’s standing in to and everything was almost too impossible to believe.

“As I’ve thought. You’re up again.”

Surprised, Arxian nearly jumped off the window when he heard the infamous cold voice spoke behind him. He couldn’t get used to this man appearing from random corners of the room and speaking casually as though he wasn’t guilty for being weird. “Stop barging in, bastard! You think it’s fun sneaking up on people?!” the boy glared at him accusingly.

Victor blinked before his mouth opened to state his side. “I would let it slide if it’s someone else. But I heard you shout a plea which is why I rushed in.”

For a moment, the boy was stunned. The man looking back at him stayed few meters away, not moving. “F-fucker! You’ve been here all along?!” he asked, every word nearly tripped out of his mouth as he looked at him in disbelief.

“Why won’t I come here? You’re my wife, normally we share the same room. Isn’t that the same as to your world?” He asked.

Once more, the ravonette could feel his entire being ran through shivers. “Watch your mouth! I’m not your fucking wife!” retorted the boy.

The silvette, still painted with a neutrally platonic face stepped forward. The hills of his shoes tapping consecutively until he was able to face the former, leaning forward to level his face with the younger’s shorter height. “I see…” he said softly, almost too quiet that only the boy in front of him was able to hear.

“Now you get it.” Arxian sighed in relief when the man in front of him was able to understand his point all these days of denying being his so-called ‘wife’.

Victor leaned even closer to the side of his face, so close that he could feel his breath brushing his skin in between his neck and earlobe. “Yes. I. Get. It.” He said huskily, emphasizing word per word. A sudden grin slipped off his platonic face as his lips lightly touched the boy’s ear.

B eing close to him always set s him off. Awkwardly uncomfortable while he backed away from the man in front of him with a frown. “You get it. Then fuck off and get the hell away from me!”

Something sinister about this silver haired person was making him feel the chills to his entity. If it had somethi ng to do with him being a supernatural person, the boy would probably understand his alienated emotion, yet he could also feel that it wasn’t the case either. There wa s something familiar about him that he needed to know in order to get rid of his unwanted feelings.

The smile didn’t fade away. A smile showing neither comfort or sincerity, rather, it portrayed another sinister and malevolent plot from a devil. Whatever that grin is about, Arxian knew it was up to no good at all. “What? If there’s nothing else, get out of here! You’re starting to look like a bloody creep—fuck! What are you doing?!” the panicked young man started struggling when the silvette had swooped him off the floor and carried him like a bride. “Hey, dude! Get off my skin and put me down! What the hell is it that you want, huh?!”

“What I want?” Victor repeated seriously, stopping in front of the bed. “What do you think?”

*Well, what do YOU think? 😉*