Reapers

Epilogue

Carol adjusted the string of pearls around her neck as she stared into the mirror gazing at her blond hair that was held in a tight bun by a jeweled hair pin; the red, knee length gown she wore fit tightly around her figure was more cause for admiration, in her mind.  She giggled like a young girl trying dresses for the school prom.

Carol grinned at her reflection, this was her mortal form, one she could not change so easily.  She, however, was pleased with what she saw in the mirror.

She turned and carefully returned to the set dining table of the manor she had overtaken.  Beautiful china and crystal was set out, despite the table only needing to be set for one.  Her fingers curled around the wooden frame of the high backed chair at the head of the table.

“This is much better, isn’t it?” she mused to the woman a few chairs down to the right.  “More civilized.” Carol purred; however, the woman did not respond.  

The woman slouched in the dining chair, her pale blond hair falling in curls around her shoulders and light brown eyes barely open.  Her short, sleeveless, white dress told the reason of her fatigue as the woman’s blood continued to seep from the wound at her stomach and stain her dress the terrible color.

“Much more civilized.” Carol repeated taking her seat at the head of the table, her bloodied silver dagger to the right.  She took an apple from the fruit bowl center piece, Carol looked at the woman for a moment then bit into the apple.  After a moment she swallowed and smiled softly, “It is nothing personal, Mrs. Bethel.” Carol began to explain, “I am simply carrying out Heaven’s will and command.” she chuckled for a moment at the woman’s horror.  “Of course, I can imagine I am not quite your vision of heavenly will being carried out by greater forces.”

“Nor my vision.” a cold voice said almost softly.

Carol did not freeze in her spot but instead rose from the table and looked at the man in the archway leading to the dining room.  “The whisper of death, himself, I should feel honored.” she said to the man.

The man crossed the room, passed Carol, to the woman who lay dying.  He gently place a hand on her cheek, “Jacqueline Georgeson-Bethel.” he whispered to the woman.  “You may die now.”

The woman’s eyes closed, the remaining color in her face faded, and her body went limp.  

The man sighed and drew his hand away.  He stood with his back to Carol for several moments before looking toward her, his black eyes cold and unkind toward her.  “Why, Chrystal?” he asked calmly, “She had done nothing worthy of death.”

Carol shrugged and inspected her nails, newly painted to match the red dress she wore.  “I have very rarely heard of Death making personal house calls.” she said to the being named Death.

Death’s jaw tightened beneath his snow white skin, “I will ask again, why was she to be killed by your blade?”

Carol smiled and looked toward him.  “Really?” she laughed lightly walking toward him.  She came to be within but a few feet of him when she stopped and tilted her head, “She had committed sin, she was an adulterer towards her husband of ten years.”

Death looked down at her, a look of disbelief lurking just under the surface of his calm exterior.  “An adulterer?  That is the crime of which she was given death as punishment?”

Carol rolled her eyes, “I may just have saved her from a worse fate, one worthy of Hell.  This was mercy on her soul, and yet you judge me?” she seemed to almost whine.

Death’s eyes narrowed, “How could this be mercy?  For her life was to be more than this, for she was to not do more harm than was already dealt.  You have ended her life, Chrystal.  And there shall be no rest as long as the gates of Heaven remain closed.  Not for her mind, nor for her soul.  Can you not understand?” he paused as she turned her gaze toward him.  “You have fallen, Chrystal.  Been stripped of your angelic being, and this was no mercy but greed.”

Carol shook her head and began to laugh lightly, “You think this was my greed?  My plot to make just what has been done to me?” she smiled up at him, no longer the look of a spoiled child in her eyes but the look of an animal backed into a corner.  “I shall plot against the brat of a mortal child I had to encounter for so long, the mortal Darcie Dawn, and, to an extension, the dark angel Damaris of Diluculo.”

Death seemed to become tense, “Damaris?  It is true then?  The dark angel has risen once again?”

Carol was taken by Death’s tone, a tone of concern or worry.  She smiled at it, “What?  Does the dark angel frighten you?  Frighten you, Death, father of reaper kin, bringer of oblivion, creator of the eternal rest?” she couldn’t help but laugh, “You have surprised me.” she placed a hand lightly on his chest.  “Then perhaps you can help with our shared problem.” she whispered to him.

Death looked once again at her coldly, “You assume she frightens me?” he scowled.

Carol leaned away from him, removing her hand as she was taken slightly aback.  “I… I do not know what I believed, but you could not have had such a reaction without reason.” she said almost carefully.

Death fixed his black overcoat, ruffled by Carol’s touch.  “My emotions are not as mortal based as yours are now, nor will you ever comprehend my being, be you angel or mortal.  It is for that, Chrystal, that I tell you I do not fear her in the slightest.”

Carol glared at the being before her, the incarnation of death itself.  “Well, then I will receive no aid from your being… I have no more to say to you, leave me.”

Carol turned as to head toward the front door, Death’s ice cold grip wrapped around her arm.  “You are not in such a position as to leave me without permission.” he said.

Carol suddenly felt terrified of the being before her.  She obediently turned toward him and found his gaze to be full of something else… Something similar to anger.  Carol swallowed hard, “What are you doing here?  Surely not for some mortal woman?”

Death let go of Carol’s arm and stood a step back, “I am here to claim the soul of a mortal woman, Chrystal.  That is all.  Then I shall be on.”

Carol felt her body relax slightly, “Then your quest is fulfilled, you may leave as you wish.” she turned and unlocked the front door holding it open for him.  “I will not force you to leave, but please do not disturb the form of this house.” she walked past him into the dining room.  Carol gripped the wooden frame of the chair at the head of the dining table as Death’s almost inaudible footsteps followed her.

“I believe you are mistaken.” he said flatly.

Carol felt a chill down her spine as she slowly turned.  Within Death’s grasp was a scythe, the staff made of black diamond and the blade of white diamond.  Her entire being froze as she recognized the sinister weapon.

The Divine Sword, the Holy Blade, was created to hold every power of God, but designed to embody the beauty of life and creation.  Before her was its twin, the sinister weapon of the first Reaper, of the first creature to bring forth death into a world of immortals.  Before her was the Scythe of Death, the unholy weapon born alongside the Divine Sword.

“Ex… Excuse me?” Carol choked on her own words.

Death reached out and steadied her as her body began to shake terrible.  “You, Chrystal of the angels, by the mortal name of Carol Smithson, will die now.”

The scythe’s white diamond blade was thrusted into her chest, but she felt no blood trickle down her body nor felt a wound.  Instead, her soul slipped from her being and fell to Death in eerie silence.