Reapers

Chapter 3

As she peeled her eyelids open, her chest heaved with alarm. She was unable to move her arms or legs. A mask peered down at her, red eyes glowing in the dimness of the room. Dream's arm flinched again, but she turned to see it pinned beside her head.

She was strapped to a table.

Her socks and shoes were nowhere in sight, leaving her fragile, fleshy toes exposed. Leather straps gripped tightly around her ankles, like an anaconda trying to suffocate its prey. Although rationality argued, Dream squirmed in alarm. She always feared being pinned down, helpless to tickles. But it was unlikely that the Reaper wanted to make her laugh.

She opened her mouth to plead, but she knew begging was futile. Stay strong, stay strong. Don't panic, don't panic.

As the creature then pushed her elbow onto the rigid, and rather uncomfortable, table, it brought out a hammer. The Reaper nailed the leather ferociously to the wooden surface, echoing right beside her ear and shaking the entire table with each powerful blow. When it was satisfied, it did the same with her other elbow.

Her joints ached, announcing cramps from these weirdly twisted poses it pinned her in.

Its targeting my weak points. Dream realized. Even if these straps were loose, my elbows still wouldn't have the strength to break free.

At last, when the last nail went in, the Reaper disappeared somewhere on her far left, although there were no sounds of receding footsteps nor the closing of doors. Yet the silence confirmed that the monster had indeed left the room; Dream began to wiggle.

But with each movement, the binds seemingly grew tighter, digging further into her skin. Dream cursed. Her limbs protested, reminding her that she was not a flexible rubber band.

The girl lifted her head, barely just peeking at her toes. Would they be the first to leave her? Maybe it'll cut off my toes and put them in its evil stew or whatever Reapers eat. She thought grimly. What was more frightening than her situation was the fact that she was making jokes about it. Perhaps it was fatigue settling in after the long day today.

At last, footsteps approached. Dream struggled to catch a glimpse, but eventually succeeded. The color drained from her face when she realized it was not the Reaper who entered through the door.

It was a scrofa.

A name meaning 'female pig' and part of the wild boar's scientific name, for the two resembled each other. While scrofas had snouts and similar feet shape, these creatures were not earthen pigs, but monsters. They were bigger, meaner, and had a liking to the taste of humans. Its grotesque snout inhaled scents with a snort, milky-white pus oozing from its warty hide. Its fur was thick and prickly, raising to announce their danger.

Its quills are sharper than the human mind, mother would joke.

In that case, we'd have nothing to worry about, Dream had joked back.

Dream held her breath, staying as still as she could. The scrofa stopped its inspection of its surroundings. It turned to Dream, its eyes whirlpools of darkness that consumed any flecks of light.

Shit, Dream grunted. I wasn't supposed to look into its eyes.

The monster squealed, sharp brown teeth appeared beneath its dry lips as it stomped. Prepared to charge.

Its hoof-like steps thundered across the tiled floor as it collided into the table. The table fell over, dragging Dream with it. She yelped as they landed sideways, her brain bounced off the sides of her skull, making her head throb again.