My Soul to Reap (Archived)

Dead Silence

Near her Rina was doing the same, using the slowed pace of her enemies to destroy them. Someone rushed at her and she blocked their blows, never parrying but instead going straight for the chest and neck. Brutally, ruthlessly. Like she was no longer the sweet girl I'd come to know. For all I knew the blood staining her dress didn't even bother her. Scythes weren't supposed to make their victims bleed but somehow this must have been different, unjust. She moved more choppily than Brie, yelling and thrusting in a way that was somehow more terrifying.

It happened so quickly I almost missed it, but the dark form of someone running at top speed caught my eyes. Skylla saw it too but she just kept singing, closed her eyes as the man got closer. Jun. He was hatred in motion, glaring down the woman who had caused his mate's death. I didn't want it to happen but somehow I knew Jun had no other choice, that he'd never be whole without Tallie. It didn't stop me from praying for Skylla to open her eyes, to fight like I knew she could.

The song changed in the last few notes, turning somehow more powerful than hypnotic. Like a declaration, that she was going to die for a reason and that her sacrifice meant something. She opened her eyes then and they were glowing ultraviolet, as a cruel smirk twisted her lips. When Jun reached out to her, half-wolf and teeth bared, he went for the neck. She fell to the ground as he tackled her, and my mouth dropped in horror as he ripped out her neck. But ass soon as her blood began to flow onto the floor, so did his.

And ugly red gash appeared at his throat, Skylla's last act. I could hear him whimper from across the room, dab and scratch at it like it could go away. But he was gasping for breath soon, lying just as dead as his victim. Except she was smiling at his look of terror, her last act taking her killer down with her. The siren claiming her last victim, luring him to his death with her song. The deaths knocked me speechless. I felt like I literally couldn't breathe, like Skylla had taken my breath with her. But I kept watching, because deaths that meant so much to me were just deaths in the heat of battle. They would be mourned later, but for now the only thing that mattered in that room was survival.

I was drawn to watching Rina again, her movement precise and measured. But this time her opponent was awake, and wearing a white suit. I was gripped by a kind of fear I hadn't really known before, the true fear for another's life. She was holding her own well, from the looks of it. She had a scythe and he had a rapier, which seemed wrong for a demon. But I could see the white smoke rising off it like dry ice, and I knew it was deadlier than any sword. Rina's face was blank, impassive, the emotionlessness I had always expected from reapers. Even though I knew the otherS were fighting they didn't seem to matter in the face of this fight, these two who were locked in a sick dance.

He jabbed at her side and caught her dress, and caught my breath with it. It was stuck there, and the sick grin he gave her made me actually move to go to her. I could distract him, do something, because I'd known that dress was a bad idea. But before I could move her own face changed into a smirk to match his own, and the dress went stiff. Her next movement shattered it like ice, and he was so taken aback he actually stumbled backwards. I remembered them talking about being able to fight in dresses, and realized Rina knew all along the image she gave off.

She'd known people would assume her weak, childish. That there was no way anyone could fight in that dress. And so she'd played on that. She was now standing in something completely different, looking like someone else. Thick shorts that almost looked like armour, that would have fit easily under the large skirt. Red and black instead of pink and white. She looked like a samurai, like a warrior that wouldn't be stopped. And that's exactly what she became. I understood how she fought then, that maybe she hadn't really been some innocent Japanese girl. She wielded the scythe like a katana, fighting like she'd never done anything else.

She caught him off guard all right. And she caught him right in the chest. She yelled and stabbed straight through where his heart should be, twisting the blade and pushing it so hard it impaled him. His legs slid across the floor and she held him there, suspended, bleeding black onto his suit. And then she shook him off like some worthless vermin in a trap, letting his body fall. They both knew it was the end, and she stabbed him again. The look of fear in his eyes couldn't be faked. I knew he was dying, that there was no survival. I was too tense to be happy about that, and black blood just kept spurting out and joining the crimson around it. He looked like a macabre painting, black leaking out of his mouth and chest. Finally even his eyes turned black, and hard as it was to tell I was certain his eyes had rolled back.

It was over. The room warmed, a physical reminder of what had happened. There was no relief, no victory. Rina spun around again and kept fighting, kept swinging the scythe like it was an extension of her arm. My eyes were glued to Vincent now, who I'd never seen alone. He looked wrong, with too much black on him. Like the strangeness from the mirror lost its impact on death.

There was a scream like I'd never heard before. Anger, pain, sadness, despair, all in one note that cleared the air better than even Skylla's song had. Lynn stared down at the body of her brother, her dead family, and screeched. I backed away, the noise igniting a primal fear in my chest. When she was finished she turned slowly, and even though the fighting hadn't stopped she was given a wide berth. And her white eyes, filled with the purest form of hatred that ever existed, fell on Rina.