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Chapter One

Chapter One

Nova

My creeper-clad feet landed roughly and quickly rolled away from underneath me as I dove from the higher building's roof. I winced as my knee scraped on the scratchy gravel roof, and sprung to my feet, running silently along the moon-bathed surface. My breath came in short little gasps, but no heart beating rapidly could be heard.

Its funny really. The only thing that stops working when you die is your heart. Maybe that says something about us humans... Or, did, I suppose, considering I'm far from being any meakly human anymore. To be completely honest with myself, I could not remember when I died. I only remembered when old Lukey boy came to me, just as the light faded from my eyes, said I had great potential. Wanted me in his ranks.

I could not remember what my own heartbeat sounded like. I guess thats true for most Reapers, but I was one of the only who grinned when I thought of the meaning of my heart being a dark black hole. My brethren and sisters in the Reaping buisness Reap in a sort of detatched sense of sorrow. Me?

I love my job.

Surrounded by death and gloom and gore all day? The occasional murder? Suicide? Ha! Its my heaven! I couldnt be happier even if I was in heaven. And the benefits were to die for. Leaping off the edge of the flatbed roof, I throw my arms out above my head, and sweep them in a circle. I bring them to a point above my head, throw them down diagonally, and bring them up so that theyre straight across, the elbows touching as they criss-cross. Finally, about 10 meters from the ground, I jerk my arms back into straight lines, each at their own respected sides, and a glowing silver pentagram appears in the air. I close my eyes, and dive into the shimmering surface, just as it disappears back into the thin air from wence it came.

On the other side, I do another tuck and roll into the red and black checker-tiled room, landing in a perfect bow, my lilac hair almost sweeping the floor, despite it's short pixie bob. "Luke." I say with a smile.

"Stand, dear, you know I dont like when you bow for me." His rough voice, much like the rough gravel surface of the rooftops in downtown, melds over my ears. I stand, and stride over confidently to sit on the wide railings of the blood-red steps leading to his throne. I tilt my head to the side, adjust my headband, and smile widely.

Luke was handsom, in the kind of way that said he could drive a dagger through your heart, smiling, and say "Thank you for your service," as you lay bleeding on his Calvin and Klein designer shoes. His grin could bring any woman to her knees, as what was expected from the king of temptation, but his genuine smile was crooked and wry, that of a small boy whom had burnt his family in the whee hours of the night, and told the cops his sister's Barbies told him to do it. His hair was black silk, with a streak of red velvet in his bangs, his hair just sweeping his shoulders. His skin was the perfect tan color, probably from being surrounded by burning souls all day long. Eyes, as red as the small sharp horns protruding from his forehead, and the arrow-like tail extending from his spine. No, he was not born with these horns and this tail, but after the Christians and what-not portrayed him with them, he tried them on and found that he quite enjoyed the look.

"No suit today?" I point out, picking on his usual high-and-tidy appearance. He shakes his head, and motions for me to come closer. I stand and clomp up the marble stairs. He opens his mouth to say somthing, his red eyes dancing with an internal fire, when his doors fly open and his eyes flicker back to their dull, dark, scary blood red, and swivel to the door.

"Sir, we have another Reaper." He sighs slightly, and I step back, standing with my hands folded behind my back respectfully.

"Bring them here." He commands, and the suited guard turns, and motions for someone to come in. Another girl, with waist length white hair, and almost white skin, walks in slowly. Her lips were violet and tipped up into a mischevious smile, her eyes the milky color of being blind. I roll my eyes, and shift to my other leg. She tilts her head to me, and sniffs, then nods.