Dark Passions at Death's Door

11 - The Reaper

Alv DesKor
Hellplane, Arid
Demigod Status: Active

She smelled ash and old iron.

They'd landed somewhere else. Definitively not Earth.

The valley was arid, a desert of deep brown, too deep a brown. The skies above were blackened by roiling clouds. A vibrant red replaced the normal blue that should be there. Dark grey ash was falling slowly.

The air was dry, hot.

There were over a dozen mountains in any direction, most of which would have rivaled those found in the Northlands.

Is he a demon after all?

Nїx didn't recognize this realm. She scanned fast, then looked at him. "Where did you take me, immortal?"

The male had put distance between them. "Someplace to talk," he answered over his shoulder.

"About what?" she shouted.

He turned slowly and crossed his arms over his chest. He seemed to be staring at the dirt, thoughtful.

"I've been sitting on the sidelines awhile now since this shit started going down, and I'm curious." The man pinned his gaze on her. "Are you truly fucking nuts, Phenїx?"

Her eyelids flew wide. He dared even?! She screamed and ran at him. He was there now. Right in front of her. Gonna ki-

A strike rocked her stomach mightily enough to make her cough. The impact against her stomach had been horrendous.

He backed up two steps. "Stay. Down," he grunted.

She struggled upwards, peering up through her eyelashes at his form. "You forget who you're speaking to???"

Her veins trembled with adrenaline. Even with her desire to take his head, he'd almost put her on her knees with that blow.

Then she sucked in a breath and her stomach caught up with the impact. Her diaphragm gave out. She checked herself before she collapsed to one knee.

Godsdammit, what-?! He really struck me that well? How? How strong is he???

"No, I know exactly who I'm speaking to," he answered while walking further away. "I'm speaking to the de facto leader of the Vertas Pact, and some female who thinks she'll attain goddesshood, shortly."

The wind on this hell-plane was very slight, and now he ripped off the remains of his shirt, revealing his back to her. She wanted to move, but that hit had truly shaken her.

Nїx took him in, slowly. Toned shoulders, the male had done a lot of push-ups at some point. Just the definition in those muscles made her claws curl a fraction.

And that skin was just the right tone of warm ivory mixed with cream. Even pressed against her, she'd felt how warm he was.

For a youth, he certainly was... cute.

But also, grrr!!! His tone had so much arrogance, like he had knowledge that she, the Ever-Knowing, didn't.

There was a magnet planted in the center of his back, attached to a leather strap that wound over him, a reinforced harness. She sniffed and inspected it with her own vision.

It was mystickal. A place to store her blades. And that... that scythe.

That was what had hit her? She peered at it. Out of all the weapons she'd seen or foreseen, it was perhaps the strangest.