A Welcome Burden (Gay Fantasy)

Chapter Two: Reaper of Souls

            A horrid smell pulled Kristoff from his daze. As his stomach churned violently, he could feel the warm bile rising up is throat. Heat and smoke from a distant fire filled the air. Burning embers filled the sky, looking like gradually dying stars. The smoke in the sky left the night eerie, as no natural light from the full moon could reveal itself.

            Piles of ash covered the earth’s natural surface to the point where Kristoff didn’t bother to watch his footing. To think Jinx could be any one of those piles of ash and bone weighed down on him.

            Kristoff saw the shadows to the left change and finally reveal a beautiful woman, who made her way towards him. “We mustn’t dwell here.” Her dark suited armor complimented her features well, hugging her hips and bosom exposing her trim physique. Chalk white twisted strands of hair collected over her shoulders like thick roots from an elder tree.

            The nightmare pulled Kristoff from his past memories to the more recent time. It had been so long, yet the wound never healed. The wall opposite Kris’s bed was covered in little cutouts, tidbits of information he had gathered over the past two decades, though most no longer served him a purpose. The cold wood beneath his feet faintly creaked under his weight as he made his way towards the clutter wall.

            A faint breeze brought along the smell of earthly herbs and grime.  “Any word on them?” Kris  calmly questioned the woman that stood, silhouetted in the moonlit, outside on the balcony.

            “You must admit, brother, I’ve gotten better at stalking you,” said the woman. Her voice echoed, sounding like two voices, overlapping; one sinful and sweet, the other deeper and menacing.

            Kris’s thin white eyebrow twitched scarcely. “Doubtful,” he mumbled to himself.

            The woman moved weightlessly across the room. Standing next to Kris, she looked over the cluttered wall, noticing how insignificant some of the information seemed to be. “They call their leader Rayoden, but I’ve found neither Race, nor trail or scent in relation. I swear this… thing keeps it’s dirty work clean. Hlal, damn me for saying this, but I hope you know what you’re doing, because no one else does. They’ll put up a nasty fight against you, and we know hardly anything about themorthe magick they use.”

            “Then find someone who does. Even if it’s the slightest of unneeded information,Richelle, that’s what holds you back. Everything has significance.” A rhythmic beeping echoed through the small room as Kris’s wrist-watch alerted him that it was now seven o’clock. “I’m counting on you, Richelle. I need to know what’s coming.”

            Richelle’s beryl eyes narrowed on her brother as he made his way across the room. “He’s not from our realm, Kristoff. How are you going to break it to him, without sounding as if you’ve escaped from one of those mental hospitals they have here?”

            “Richelle!” Kris growled and stopped in the doorway, but as he spoke again, all anger was drained from his voice, “just do as I say.”

            Though she did not comply with Kris's motives, she kept her lips in a tight line, mostly out of respect. Hovering over Kris like a vulture, she swiftly followed her older brother into the washroom. “What happens if I can't find anything on these Soul Reapers before they appear?”

            It was bare, as were all the other rooms in the apartment, sporting only a basic sick, tub, and a toilet. The water spattered when Kris first turned the knob, and then had smoothed evenly out.“Then we will have to pray to our Gods. Until then, I have the utmost confidence you will find something,” His eyes locked with Richelle's in the mirror for a few seconds, reminding her who held the authority.