CLARA KNEW THERE was something inhuman about the two men standing before her, but she never expected them to be demons. She tried to weigh the possibility of the existence of such creatures and the chances of truth behind their words. She had remained unknowingly expressionless for the last few minutes and was only made aware of the fact when she noted the expectant look on their faces. They were waiting for a reaction to the news and she had since given them none. She blinked several times before opening her mouth to speak.
"Okay," she said simply.
"Okay?" James repeated, somewhat confused.
"Okay," Clara nodded, her gaze shifting between the two men.
"That's all you have to say? What happened to good old crying and screaming? Or blatant denial, for that matter?"
He could hardly believe it when his incredulity was met with another mild shrug from the human girl.
"Aren't you even the least bit doubtful or hesitant?" he tried again. He couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the easy manner she seemed to accept their state of being.
"Well . . . yes, but I don't see why your explanation couldn't be a possibility. I've already accepted your unnatural powers as a fact. Wouldn't it make sense that you'd be demons? Having powers and being demons aren't too far apart."
Clara's voice softened with mild hesitation when she mentioned the word 'demons'. She gulped, her heart pounding vigorously in her chest. Contradictory to her words and the calm facade she had on, she wanted very much for James' sudden declaration to be false. If anything, the thought they could be demons frightened her beyond belief.
James frowned and stared at her in irritation. After a few seconds, he shook his head and turned to face away from her. He tilted his head towards the charred vehicle.
"Aren't you going to clean up your mess? We can't stay here forever."
"Yes, yes," came Zeph's tired response as he moved towards the vehicle resignedly.
He placed his hands on what was once the car's roof. Clara watched in silence as his hands seemed to resonate a kind of forcefield and in mere seconds, the car turned to ash. Zeph dusted his hands off and grimaced in disgust.
Clara turned towards James, her eyes wide in disbelief. When he met her gaze without care, she shifted to look at her car once more. She couldn't help the feeling of exasperation that threatened to overwhelm her when her gaze landed on the pile of ash in its place. To think that her car had been standing there mere seconds ago and now nothing remained of its pale blue exterior was almost too much to bear.
"You ready?" James asked, interrupting her moment of internal panic and directing his question to Zeph, who in turn nodded once.
Taking note of the latter's acknowledgement, he turned to look at Clara.
"We're stepping out of the freeze zone now. Stay close. Once time starts, we need to get out of here as fast as possible. Do you understand?"
Clara was far from understanding his abrupt explanation, but she claimed she understood him fine, anyway. She figured it would be too much of a hassle to say otherwise.
James closed his eyes for a fraction of a second before opening them again. He nodded to Zeph who turned on his heel, took two steps forwards and disappeared into thin air.
Clara's earlier bafflement returned tenfolds upon witnessing his sudden disappearance. She found herself looking to James for an explanation once more, only for her conviction to be dashed when she recalled his apparent dislike for clarifications. Her concern and curiosity died within her as she clamped her mouth shut; hands fisted by her sides.
"Come—it's best we take our leave too," James said. "There's much we need to discuss."
"Where are we going?" she asked, swallowing her fears as best she could.
"You ask too many questions," James grunted in return, effectively dodging her query.
He held his hand out towards her and raised his eyebrows when she hesitated in taking hold of it.
"Hurry up and stop wasting time," he said.
"Are we going to disappear like that too?" she asked, pointing at the empty spot where Zeph had been standing moments prior.
James groaned and grabbed hold of her arm, dragging her towards the area in question. He stopped and pulled her towards him.
"I've been meaning to ask—what is this? You weren't wearing this before," James took hold of the old baseball cap and before Clara could stop him, he took it off her head and tossed it aside.
His actions were uncalled for and when she said just as much, he shrugged and claimed it was 'ugly' and he simply didn't like looking at it. Clara exhaled in irritation, making a move in an attempt to retrieve it but was held back by his strong grip on her arm. He ignored her protests and roughly pushed her head against his chest, muffling her cries.
"Stay close or you'll really disappear."
Clara hardly had the chance to comprehend the meaning behind his words when she felt the surge of strong winds whirling around them. It felt as though they were trapped in the centre of a vortex. True to his word, the feeling was gone a moment later and Clara was pushed away from the broad chest she was huddled against seconds before.
Clara had her eyes tightly shut against the wind and it remained that way even as she stumbled back a few paces. She did not immediately notice they were no longer in the parking lot of the medical centre. She did, however, hear the distinct sounds of cicadas and thought they sounded significantly louder than before.
Curiosity got the better of her and she opened her eyes slowly, finally realising that she was standing in the middle of a vast field. The shock was enough for her to momentarily forget her anger towards James for wordlessly throwing the baseball cap away.
"You survived okay, huh? Guess you're not as pathetic as I assumed you were," Zeph said from behind her.
"What do you mean?" Clara asked in return.
"Not many humans can survive being teleported like that, but you did okay."
He proceeded to pat her noncommittally on the shoulder as he walked past her towards James.
"Shall we begin our discussion?"
James nodded. He retrieved an envelope from his inner pocket and handed it to Clara.
"This will clear any doubts and answer any questions you might have."
Clara extracted the enclosed letter with shaking hands and scanned over its written contents.
"Name: Avery, Clara
Age: 22
On the stated date, the above mentioned will be reaped by means necessary. The harnessed soul will be taken to be processed. No evidence should be left behind. Elimination of all possible eyewitnesses is mandatory. Members of the Elite are responsible for carrying out the selected task and a report is due upon completion.
Fin."
Contrary to James' claim, the letter was not doing a good job of clarifying her confusion. If anything, its inclusion in the narrative only seemed to add to her perplexity concerning the matter.
Somewhat in a daze, she glanced through the letter once more, her attention focused on the date indicated at its header.
"Today," she whispered to herself.
"What's today?" Zeph asked.
Clara flipped the letter in her hand and pointed at the word 'reaped'. When she failed to get a reaction out of either of them, she jabbed at the word impatiently.
"Reaped! Today. The stated date is today," she exclaimed in near hysterics. "I don't understand what's going on at all."
James, who had remained poker-faced throughout her sudden outburst, started laughing. Zeph winced at the sound, mortified at the former's largely uncharacteristic behaviour.
"There it is—the crying and screaming I've been waiting for. A normal reaction, at last," he mused in satisfaction.
Zeph exhaled in disapproval. He turned to look away from James in disgust and focused his attention on the girl before him.
"What don't you understand?" he asked her, once James had somewhat calmed his laughter.
"Everything," the girl hissed in response.
"Maybe you could try being a tad bit more specific."
Inhaling, Clara said as calmly as she was able to, "The reaping of my soul? Having it processed? What does all that even mean?"
Silence ensued for a few seconds until the sound of Zeph's disgruntlement pierced the night air.
"She doesn't understand anything. Do we really have to explain it to her? Can't we just complete the task and be done with it?"
His question was directed at James who was studying Clara in silence.
Coming to a decisive conclusion, James said, "No, we'll explain it to her. She's too annoying and persistent to quit asking questions just because we tell her to."
His remark earned him an incredulous stare from Zeph.
"Are you stupid? What does it matter? Once we get down to reaping her soul, she won't be able to talk, much less pester us with questions."
James glared at Zeph through eyes that were clouded with such intensity, the air surrounding them was beginning to grow tense.
"Shut up and do as you're told. Now, explain it to her properly and make sure she understands."
Zeph gritted his teeth and turned to face Clara, his eyes reflecting the anger churning within him.
"I'll say this once so you'd do well to listen carefully, is that understood?" he asked, relaxing his clenched fists in order to cross his arms.
Clara nodded, earning a resigned sigh from him.
"The Elite are demons responsible for reaping the souls that are collected to be processed. James and I are two of three demons part of this group. We receive a letter with the name of the person and the attached order like the one you've just read. We do what's instructed and that's the end of it."
"What does it mean when you say you send the souls to be processed? And–" Clara paused, ignoring the discomfort in favour of forcing out the words. "And why me?"
"I can't answer that because I don't know. I guess getting your soul processed means you don't exactly die but get reborn or something of that degree. It's just an assumption. Demons don't get told classified information like that."
Clara flinched at the harshness of his tone. Her mind was racing a mile a minute; information overwhelming her. From their state of being demons to having her soul reaped and processed, it was too much jammed within the last hour. She was still lost in the tangled mess prominent in her head when she was interrupted by Zeph's gleeful remark.
"Can we get to the good part, now?"
Clara repeated in a murmur laced with hints of dread, "The good part?"
"Yeah, the part where we actually get to reap your miserable soul from your body."
When his words hit her, Clara recoiled and instinctively waved her hands in front of her to stop his advances.
"Wait, wait, wait! You can't be serious. You're going through with it? You're going to reap my soul?"
"Obviously. You didn't think we were joking, did you?" James asked.
"But, I mean—"
Cutting her off, James gestured towards Zeph.
"Go on then," he urged.
A sinister grin took over Zeph's features as he took several steps towards the frightened girl, intent on getting the job done right the first time.
"It wasn't much of a pleasure knowing you, Miss Avery. You were the most troublesome of the lot we've had to reap, but not to worry. I'm sure reaping your soul would be most enjoyable and I'll gladly take it as compensation for all the unnecessary trouble you've caused."
His hand came within her line of sight and she knew it would soon be over. She had no idea if it would be painful or if it would end in seconds, but she refused to close her eyes. Just as he was about to plunge his arm elbow-deep into her chest, a gust of wind erupted around them, causing him to move his arm away to shield his face instead.
"What now!" Zeph growled, angry at the untimely interruption.
"Ah, Zephyr. Is that any way to greet your superior?" a new voice asked as the wind slowly died down. The voice sounded cheerful but held unmistakable undertones of hostility, enough of which to send a chill down Clara's spine.
She took a deep breath and prepared herself to look towards the direction of the voice. All the while her mind echoing the words of her would-be reaper, what now?