Reaper [Zarry]

death one

It's a drab rainy Tuedsay, ominous clouds hanging heavily in the sky. A huddle of black is mourning another one.

One.

Two.

Three.

Life happens in a heartbeat.

Blink and time is fleeting. Blink again and it's gone.

The darkness is consuming you, you're stumbling around in a shroud of it, the fear is consuming you. You panic; you can't even breathe, heaving out, chest tight. Tied up like a tethered knot. You are terrified of oblivion; of the unknown.

Or maybe you don't even notice it's happening. You're minding your own business. You feel perfectly fine: happy, carefree...on top of the world.

There are no memories flashing before your eyes and certainly no regrets. There's no time at all to prepare.

It doesn't sink in. There's no realization: I am going to die.

Because most people don't know when it's their turn. Who wakes up, stretches comfortably and lets out a little yawn thinking I'm going to die today?

Exactly. Nobody does that.

I pass through the streets unnoticed, black cloak shielding me from the mortals.

I had been following one in particular for quite some time.

A middle aged man, wry smile on his face as he saw a woman he recognized. He had crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and his hair is sprinkled with gray. There was a certain softness to him though, kindess that comes with age and experience and understanding.

Lost souls often beckon me. They're miserable; so ready for me they don't regret it until the moment I strike and they're crying, wishing for just one more day on their precious little planet.

Some of them deserve it. Cold-blooded murders and pathological liars. People who take everything for granted and flaunt their wealth.

Most of the time people aren't ready and it isn't fair really. It's all randomized.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

A sudden heart attack striking the man. I hardly flinch, watching him clutch a hand to his chest and

d
o
w
n

he

g
o
e
s

So many people hate me. They shudder at the thought of me, try to stuff me in the back of their minds but you can't avoid me.

Others have nightmares about me. I'm not bad. At least I don't think so.

I've grown close to numb. I'm an outsider, watching the world from a distance. My heart has been dormant for years.

I can't hear the soft lull of my heartbeat or feel any warmth. I've convinced myself maybe I never had a heart to begin with.

Hundreds of years surrounded by death can do that to you. Swarmed by masses of people. Shrill cries of terror and body racking sobs.

It's dizzying. Keeping track of the ones that have to go is exhausting.

Nobody would want to be faced with the daily task I have. Time blurs, days mesh together. It's all continuous to me.

Numbers. Countable casualties and they mean nothing to me.

I barely keep track of days anymore. It's meaningless but I know it's a Tuesday. That's what the obituary said.

Flashed back into reality, pulled from my thoughts. I killed him.