The Necrodancer

Chapter 2- Reputation

 Cicero, now wearing a yellow raincoat over their clothes, landed in the doorway of one of the abandoned apartment buildings in downtown Cedar Grove that made up one wall of the alleyway of topic. The rain beat heavily on the pavement, bricks, and windows, but Cicero could hear everything going on in the alley perfectly.

Octavius Marsh whimpered pathetically. "Please, tell him I'll have it in a couple of weeks, I swear!"

"You bet your life on having it a couple of weeks ago, to the day." Chills flashed through the reaper's body at the sound of the voice: low, slightly raspy, and antagonistic. "I do not have a preference over which I collect today, but I am collecting."

"No! Please, I-" Octavius suddenly fell unconscious, crumpled to the ground, and disappeared.

The demon stared blankly. "That wasn't me," he muttered dully to himself. Cicero slowly walked into the alley, the hood of their raincoat up. The rain pattered against the rubber. Their boots splashed on the pavement. They looked perfectly calm as they scanned the scene with their grey green eyes. The demon before them had short black hair that glistened with the rain but maintained its style, olive skin, and honey brown eyes. His expression was one of fear and confusion before he looked at them; when he did, his smile gleamed with excitement. He wore a black cardigan, a black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and black vans. "Ah, Death approaches," he chuckled darkly in a chilling pur.

Cicero slipped their hood off, revealing their eye sockets, now without eyes; there was nothing in the holes; just darkness as thick as abyss. "Surely you're smart enough to know that a reaper will come if you try to kill a human before its time." A fluorescent, ghastly green glow surrounded the being. Dark power filled the atmosphere, charging the air with the sickly sweet smell of death that mixed with the petrichor. "Of course, when have demons been known for their intelligence?"

"Cicero," the demon purred with a smirk, staring slightly down at the reaper with awe in his eyes. He'd always wanted to meet a reaper, especially Cicero, as they were famous in the field and in England. Despite their emaciated form and their shortness compared to him, he felt as though he had no advantage in the situation. "Your reputation precedes you."

Cicero grinned, flattered, as they adjusted the left-handed grip they had on their cane a little. "Demons are always screwing with reapers. You take people before their time, but it appears as though you're acting under orders." They flashed a dangerous smile, one now full of pointed white teeth like those of a shark. They could sense that the demon belonged to a human. "Let this serve as a warning to you both. If you mess with my schedule, you get to watch me slurp up your damned master's soul like spaghetti." On that note, the reaper smiled even wider before turning on their heels and began walking out of the alleyway, their cane matching the step of their right leg.

They heard a sudden, loud, animalistic growl echo in the alley. Cicero ducked nonchalantly just in time for a giant, bipedal, canine creature to shoot over them. They quickly stood up and spun around to see the creature as it somersaulted onto the ground into a standing position. His skin had become black fur and his eyes were slitted and a fiery red violet colour. His fingers grew claws and his teeth sprouted fangs.

"Oooh, my, what a big puppy!" Cicero laughed as they twirled their cane like a baton, no longer putting their weight on it, as it suddenly morphed into a whip. "You are a gorgeous specimen, I must tell you!"

When the demon charged, they raised the whip over their head like a hammer, ready to crack it down on the creature. As the demon was pouncing, the whip suddenly morphed into a chainsaw, revved and whirring mechanically, and the green glow surrounding the reaper intensified and brightened. Instead of putting off heat, the atmosphere grew even colder.

Before the demon could retreat, as he wasn't prepared for the change in weapon, the chainsaw sliced through his shoulder, cutting off his arm from the very top. The demon, screeching in agony and slamming into one of the brick walls, watched his limb flop to the ground. Blackish-purple blood oozed from the stump.

"DOWN, BOY!" As the reaper expected, the demon disobeyed and charged again, this time on three legs and pinning the reaper onto the opposite wall, slashing with his teeth, white, gleaming, and ready for butchering. Instead of blood, black smoke leaked out of the gashes the demon inflicted as he ravaged the reaper's skeletal form. It appeared as though the demon was winning when his other arm was suddenly sawed off, the chainsaw grinding through bone like the sound of a tree being cut down. It was music in Cicero's ears as the demon's blood covered their raincoat: the only real reason why they'd worn it.

The demon fell onto the reaper for a moment before rolling away, shrieking again. The reaper rose to their feet, their clothes and skin torn to reveal nothing but black smoke and bone beneath. The black vapor swirled and mixed with the ghastly green aura.

"Next time you toy with me, demon and human, it will be your heads!" Cicero bellowed as black leathery wings sprouted from their back before they shot into the sky, turning invisible once they flew over buildings, where they could now be seen if not for their invisibility.

Thomas looked up from his textbook when he heard the bell over the door ring and grinned as he watched "Cecilia" enter the warm coffee shop with about two minutes to spare. The small gashes on their face were already healed, but the ones under their clothes were still open and oozing out black smoke. They'd transported back to the house to get their bag for school and change into a black turtleneck, green corduroy peg trousers, and black converse high tops. They'd have to get Reyna or Tilde to sew the gashes before their spirit bled out of the body they'd built for themselves, but that would take a whole twenty-four hours. They hung up their raincoat, the demon blood washed off by the rain, walked up to the counter to order a hot chocolate, and sit in the booth Thomas was holding for them.

"Hey," Cicero sighed, sounding a little out of breath, as they laid their scythe, back in cane form, across their lap.

Thomas smiled, eyes twinkling. "You look great... and... wet?" he chuckled.

Cicero laughed, too, running a hand through their wet hair, which managed to get even curlier in the rain. Their fingers came black with water slightly tinted with demon blood. "Thanks. Looks like I'm getting just as soaked as Cedar Grove tonight." They had the sleeves of the turtleneck rolled and the sweater itself tucked into the pants, which were also held up by a black belt. Cicero literally being no more than skin and bone, it was difficult to find clothes that fit, weren't form-fitting, were for someone their age and not for a six-year-old, and that accommodated their style. "How are you?"

Thomas shrugged as he took a drink of his black coffee. "Not too bad. I think I have an idea for my original research proposal. You?"

Cicero shrugged. "Not feeling the best, but I'm hanging in there, and I was really productive today."

Thomas grinned, sympathy shining in his eyes. "Well, if you start feeling worse, we'll get you home, okay?"

Cicero grinned wide. This human was the first human who had ever paid any more attention to them than necessary. "Thanks." They pulled out their textbook and notebook for Principles of Ethics and Morals and opened them up to the right pages. "Let's hear your proposal."