Words by You

Drawing Lines (and Sticking to Them)

He kept coming to the hospital after he'd been discharged, asking for her at the front desk or lingering by the emergency entrance. She'd tried to be kind, gently turning down his gifts of flowers and fresh coffee. It was clear they weren't soulmates, she'd even shown him her own tattoo. It didn't bother him — he said that his soulmate had died.

As the 'visits' persisted, she started avoiding him. Carpooling with coworkers and taking her lunches inside. Security had his name on record while reception knew to turn him away if he asked for her. He'd been escorted out multiple times. There had been some prickly moments, but the effort had been effective. He'd been more or less out of her hair for a while now.

"I know you've been on the fence about it, but this is a hell of a good time to file a police report," I said firmly.

Her lips pressed into a line, her brows furrowing into a tense line. "There's more."

"What?"

She dug out her phone, unlocking it and holding it up between us. "Just listen." The automated voice of her voicemail came on speaker.

You have one recorded message.

Surprise. I'll bet you weren't expecting me.

A chill ran down my spine. All this time, I'd never met him face to face. I'd never heard his voice. He sounded soft spoken, almost unassuming. There was a faint slur to his voice, almost like he was drunk but not quite.

The people at your job are really running you ragged. Every time I try to visit they send me off. You gotta be halfway across the city if they don't want to let me wait. I mean, I had to get creative just to get your number. I wanted to check up on you. 'Specially with the Reapers hanging around– ah, I mean Reaper. Just one Reaper."

He chuckled, a long, shaky sound that dwindled into heavy breathing.

"How crazy would it sound if I said there'd been a bunch of 'em? Just picking away at people, not following rules. And then they became the ones getting picked off, one by one until there was just...one."

Sunnie's eyes flickered up, reflecting tension I knew showed in mine. Jeff sighed, mumbling something unintelligible.

"–really makes you think about the important stuff. The things you shouldn't let go... you're important to me. Trustworthy. The kind of person that wouldn't let me down. So the last thing I wanna see is you all ripped up."

The line went dead.

"What the actual fuck," I whispered.

Sunnie dropped her phone on the coffee table, rubbing her temples with her knuckles.

I sat back, horrified. "When did you get that?"

"About an hour ago," she mumbled, "he must've sent it while he was sitting there."

"Sunnie, that actually sounded like–"

"– he knows the Midnight Reaper," she finished. Her voice was pitched low, but I could hear the mild tremor threatening to take over. "He talked like there are, were a bunch of them, but now there's one. And he was their, wha– leader? It doesn't make sense. How could that make any sense?"

I shook my head. "All we have on this guy is a health record and a picture. You don't know who he is or what he's capable of."

"That's true," her gaze fixed on a point over the coffee table. She looked lost. Scared.

I shuffled closer, taking her hand. "Hey. This isn't over. We'll take this to the police and start a file on him."

"But none of this is direct evidence. What if they don't take it seriously? Or worse, give him a slap on the wrist then let him go– it could make him retaliate."