💀Death's Apprentice💀

Chapter Seventeen: The Curse Of Guilt

The Apprentice

"What are you doing here?" Prometheus Cain demanded.

"Would you really like to know, or would you prefer to just shoot us?" Death quipped.

"At this point I could either way, really. So why don't you answer me, and then I'll decide." Cain growled. Death explained the issue as Cain listened carefully. The guns remained trained on us. The guards were like statues, never seeming to grow tired. I couldn't even see them breathe from under their gear.

          "So let me see if I have this right." Cain grumbled. "This is the classic tale of two sworn enemies who have to set aside their differences to save the world as we know it." He walked along the railing and down a set of metal stairs until he was drifting through the sea of guards. Finally Cain was standing face to face with Death.

          "I'm afraid so." Death matched Cain's glare with equal venom. Over Death's shoulder I could get a good look at his face. Cain's face had been cut deeply at some point. Several scars ran down the right side of his face. Dark brown eyes that had once been soft were now hardened by a world of untold experience.

          "I hate you..." Cain stated.

           "I know."

          "...More than anyone or anything I've ever come across. And if I help you there is one condition. When all of this is over my organization keeps watch over the tablet. When all is said and done it comes with us, and you do not fight us on it." Cain bargained. I waited curiously for Death's counteroffer.

          "So be it." Death responded. I tried not to make a surprised face. The tablet was far too dangerous to leave with humans. This was clearly a bargain that Death didn't intend to keep. The second one in three days. There it was again. That pang of guilt.

          "Wonderful." Cain said with a smug smile. "Our resources are now at your disposal. Including our satellite tracking system. You'll be given tactical gear, and you're expected to report for preparations and debriefing." With a wave of his hand the entourage of guns were lowered. Rose and I were taken by the arms to another room and sized for armor while Death stayed behind to speak to Cain.

          "What just happened?! I thought we were walking into a library and museum. Instead we ended up walking into an ambush. What is this place, and who are these people? I don't know a lot about Britain's military but I'm fairly sure that they're not it." Rose asked.

          "This is an HQ for the MSS. Modern Supernatural Services. It's a secret society of humans who track supernatural activity. They've been around for the past couple of centuries, both helping and interfering with our government in various ways. As you may have guessed their director and ours don't get along very well." I explained.

As I spoke dozens of measuring tapes were wrapped around me like the start of a mummy. My chest, waist, thighs, arms, and feet were measured. Even my head was measured! Clothes and tactical gear were piled into our open arms. They felt heavy, as if they were lined with Kevlar and metal.

"Why does Cain hate Death so much?" Rose inquired.

"I don't know. Death doesn't talk about it. Ever. But I do know that it has to do with his face." I replied. I shuddered as I tried to imagine what could have left him so torn up. Especially if it involved Death.

"If he so much as knows about Death's existence, then that means he had to have gone through something horrific. Maybe someone he kn-" Rose started to theorize, but didn't get the chance. The two of us were shoved into different rooms. I looked around at the cramped space decorated with a single mirror. It was a changing room.

The sound of marching footsteps faded away as we were left alone to put on our new gear. I heard Rose's voice, but it was too muffled to make out. The rooms must have had some type of sound proofing. I tried not to think about the chances that there were cameras in the mirror as I hurried to change. The gear wasn't just heavy-it was hot! Sweat started to bead under my clothes. The tiny room certainly wasn't helping.

I fumbled with a helmet for a bit. The straps were weird. I tried turning them this way and that, but they just didn't feel right when I put the helmet on my head. The clips wouldn't fit together either. I huffed in frustration as I twisted the material. Rose's door opened. What?! She already has it fixed?! I began to work the straps heatedly in order to catch up to my friend. Friend. There it was again! Guilt.

Heavy footsteps came back into the room. Soon I heard the muffled sounds of the director's voice conversing with Rose's. I looked down at my predicament. I hadn't even closed my vest yet. I went to clipping and zipping it up the sides in a hurry so I didn't miss any of their conversation. For a moment I thought I heard something about fingerprints.

I smirked. Death and I had no fingerprints. Any trace of our past lives had been erased. Even our facial features wouldn't be picked up. Rose's body hadn't been found, but she would most likely come up missing in their system. For a second I let myself wonder who would have reported her missing. If there was some saddened soul out there waiting for her to come back... Curse this guilt! I hurried out the door.

          "It's a shame you work for him. You could do some real good here." Director Cain told Rose as he fixed the straps on her helmet. He placed it carefully on her head before clipping it under her chin and tightening it. The straps looked very uncomfortable, but Rose politely endured it.

          "Well, for starters I don't work for him. I work with him-despite his best efforts." Rose laughed good-naturedly. Cain cracked a smile. There was a thoughtful silence. "Why do you hate Death so much?" Rose asked tentatively. Cain's face hardened for a moment.

          "He...Let's just say he could have changed my life at one point in time. Instead he made it the darkest day I'll ever experience. Or ever will." Cain remarked in a cold tone. He stared through Rose as if the moment were playing out right in front of him. Then he brought himself back to reality.

          "What kind of arrangement do you have with him?" Cain questioned.

          "In exchange for helping him get the Scythe back he'll let me live."

          ".......I see."

          "You ready?" I interrupted in a panic.

          "You aren't." Cain glared at me. "I don't know what it is with you kids and fastening your helmets wrong. Come on, I'll fix it for you." Cain ordered as he lead me into the hall. I glanced at Rose as she used the distraction to loosen the strap under her chin a bit.

          "You need to tell her. Now." Cain fixed me with a glare the moment we were out of sight. My eyes bugged. Just as I was about to ask him what on earth he was talking about he raised his hand for silence. "I know about Death's deal with her. And seeing as you work for him, apprentice," Cain seethed, "you and I both know that he doesn't intend to hold up his end of the bargain. So I'll give you two choices. Before we leave for Hawthorne's estate you had better tell her everything. Or I will for you."

          "It's time to go!" Cain boomed into his watch. His voice projected throughout the building. I stood frozen, not knowing how to respond. Cain looked at me the way he looked at Death-with utter hatred. He shook his head at me before turning on his heel and stomping down the hall. My heart was hammering. Cain had told me he had given me two choices when he had really left me none. I took a deep breath and tried to slow down my heart rate, dreading what came next.

I had to tell Rose that she was going to die.