The Reaper's Token

I Meet The Badass Vixen of the Burning Slum

The hood slipped to reveal a striking face framed with strawberry blond hair. Her cat-like, green eyes simmered with fury. She seized a long, golden staff resting against a desk and expertly knocked a (suddenly visible) attacker to the ground. Another opponent stirred in a heap on the floor. I could only guess that she and her staff had worked him over before we interrupted her file search. Sure enough, she deftly handled her staff once more, and her foe settled back into a 'sleeping' lump once again. Her staff was raised for another strike but stopped in mid-swing.

Although my mind was freaking out, my body was calmly focused on the vision before me. I simply couldn't help staring at her. She was around my age, beautiful and apparently lethal. Color me impressed (or at least intrigued!) The echo of feet running down the hall interrupted my thoughts. I turned just in time to see Max disappear around the corner.

"Hey!" I yelled. Where the hell was he going?!!

I swung my arms out in confusion and made the mistake of stepping into the room. I spun round and saw the girl coming toward me, staff in hand. I picked up an old piece of wood beside my foot. The girl smirked and silently motioned me forward with her open palm.

I charged forward with a yell but didn't get very far as a sharp pain exploded against my jaw. I never even saw her swing! White spots crowned my vision, and I staggered backward, cupping my fingers against the side of my cheek. Rage, pure rage, blazed throughout my body and a violent surge pulsed through my veins.

I had never felt such raw fury before. I dropped the piece of wood, and it clattered to the floor. Instinctively, I pressed my wrists together and opened my palms toward the girl.

I had absolutely no idea what the hell I was doing, but the girl's eyes opened wide in shock and alarm. Before she could move, a flash of brilliant, sparkling white consumed us. The sensation was electric, like receiving a shock. I could think, but I was unable to move.

Short snippets moved before my eyes as if I was watching some messed-up blooper reel. I caught glimpses of a blond, fat boy playing the tuba; a little girl in a blue sweater was smiling with a cute, snaggletooth grin; a group of young kids (with slightly distorted voices) were singing happy birthday; next, I saw an ominous grey mist; it morphed into an opaque fog that obscured everything but an earth-shattering scream and a sharp, sickening crack.

The vision and sensation were gone just as suddenly as they appeared. My muscles ached, and I found it hard to draw a deep breath. That didn't stop me from trying, even though I was gasping like a goldfish on a hot, summer, street.

"Unbelievable," I wheezed, looking at my hands.

I lifted my head to see the girl hunched forward, kneeling on the floor in front of me. One hand was put up as if shielding herself. Her other hand gripped the goldenrod in a closed fist. Her eyes met mine as I stood up and staggered toward the door.

"Wait!" Her voice was a ragged whisper.

I stopped and glanced at her from over my left shoulder. The flames now stretched more than halfway across the ceiling. Her hand reached out as if she could pull me closer to her from the floor. She leaned on her staff and slowly regained her footing on the uneven wood boards.

I didn't wait another nanosecond. Somehow my legs carried me out of the room and down the stairs. Not that I didn't feel bad for leaving her, but I was freaked out.

She probably started this fire, and if she hit me with that stick again, I didn't know what would happen. I hadn't expected it to hurt since I was dead, but it hurt horribly. I can say that I had never in my life felt that kind of anger before. I mean, it's not like I shoot blinding beams of light at otherworldly attackers every day.