As Far As I'm Concerned [Ziam Palik AU]

iv. The Cautions of a Reaper

        Though not assured, Zayn nodded as the pair of them appeared in a hospital, cloaked and headed for the fifth room on the third floor. It was quite ordinary, bright and sad at the same time, and everything had that disgusting sterile smell, “masking death” as Isaac put it with a laugh.

           “She’s a cancer patient,” Isaac explained as the two of them stepped inside, looking around the room to see a single bed with a motionless lump underneath the covers. “She’s easy because she’s been slowly losing her fight with it for the past four months. She’s been close to death for a long time now, so she’s half way already reaped for you.”

            That was one of the most unencouraging things Zayn had ever heard in his life.

            “How do I know when it’s time?” He asked quietly, still uncertain of how this was all going to work. Zayn barely knew how to kill someone in general, as a human, so as a reaper was about ten times worse than that.

             “You’ll feel it,” was Isaac’s only answer.

           What was probably only twenty seconds but felt like a full five minutes passed in silence as they waited. That was the moment that Zayn felt something incredibly sharp in his gut, not like a pain, but a need. It wasn’t that he desired to kill this person – or reap them, whatever – but he had a serious feeling that he didn’t have a choice.

           So Zayn reached out and touched the woman’s clammy forehead. His eyes fell closed as he felt an overwhelming wave of something like energy surging from his fingers to the rest of his body before disappearing almost as if it were never there. It was like a wave of disturbingly great power, something that he couldn’t use but could definitely feel, down to his very bones.

           Zayn turned with shock as he came back and heard the deadline beep of the woman’s heart monitor. “What was that?” He asked Isaac, who was grinning widely like a man that didn’t know he knew too much.

            “That, my friend, was a soul.”

 

            The next day, Zayn found himself wandering, which wasn’t exactly unusual for him. He had no destination really, nor any sort of goal. Though he figured a reaping would come along soon enough that he needed to take care of, for the moment, he was just enjoying the day.

        It was rather nice out, actually. The usual clouded skies were above, though not it’s wasn’t raining or hot whatsoever. It was kind of a perfect medium that Zayn wished for every day.

        Plus, without exceedingly dreary weather all the time, there were admittedly less deaths – suicides, more specifically. Another deathly fact Zayn had heard once: Gloomy weather and constant rain boosted depression, in places like Seattle, Washington and the particularly cold and rainy places in England, among others in the world.

            It was another bonus he wasn’t going to be complaining about.

           Before long, Zayn ended up being spit out the other end of a dank alley he decided to wander through, only to realize he was once again back at the place he’d thought he’d so carefully avoided: Liam’s university.

         He really didn’t understand it, not whatsoever. For some reason, he always seemed to end up at this bloody place, whether he was going to a place across town or not. Heck, by this point, Zayn was beginning to wonder if he could be trying to go over to America and still end up at this place.