Derek woke with a start, clutching his chest as his heart raced.
The dream had seemed so real - a shadowy reaper commanding him to kill, promising salvation from his deepest fear.
He glanced at Natalie sleeping peacefully beside him. No, it couldn’t be real. He loved her.
But as his breathing slowed, an inkling of doubt remained. What if death truly came for him someday?
The reaper’s offer was tempting - to cheat fate and wield power over life and death itself.
Shaking his head to clear it, Derek slipped quietly from the bed. A glass of water might calm his thoughts.
As he passed the bathroom, movement in the mirror caught his eye.
He whipped around but saw only his reflection staring back, pale and drawn in the darkness.
A mind trick... or was it?
The dream had unearthed desires long buried. All his life he’d felt helpless, at the whims of forces beyond his control.
To take that power for himself, even in his dreams, was intoxicating.
But no, he couldn’t. Natalie shifted in her sleep, whispering his name with a small smile.
She loved him. He couldn’t lose her light, not even for the reaper’s empty promises.
This was just a dream. Dawn would dispel such shadows.
Derek returned to bed and Natalie’s comforting embrace, pushing the reaper back into the deepest recesses of his mind, where it belonged.
For now, at least. But its seeds had been sown. And in the darkness, they grew.
As dawn’s first rays crept through the curtain, Derek knew his course. He steeled his heart against the sobs welling within, leaning down to place a final, lingering kiss upon Natalie’s cheek.
She stirred, murmuring a sleepy question. Derek smiled sadly and brushed a gentle hand across her brow, whispering sweet nothings till those eyes closed once more. Then, swift as the reaper’s shadow, his hands found purchase around her slender neck.
The reaper’s sinister words echoed in his head: “Kill her and your suffering will end. You will have power over life and death.”
He had to get away, had to resist the reaper’s temptation. But could he escape its shadow? As Derek rose to dress, a movement by the window caught his eye. There, behind the flowing curtain, a hooded figure gazed within - the reaper, come to claim what was promised.
Derek spun to see Natalie’s lifeless body on the bed, her once-vibrant eyes now dull and empty. Remorse and self-loathing gripped his heart like icy talons. What had he done?
(TOD) Natalie's POV, August 17 at 5:01am
“Time of death,” a low, rasping voice sent a shiver down my spine.
My eyes finally focused on the stranger. Draped from head to toe in a flowing purple robe, its skeletal face locked its empty gaze with mine.
This couldn’t be real... was I still dreaming?
“Oh wow, you’re the Grim Reaper, aren’t you?” I said, attempting a coy smile. “I never thought death would be so... good looking.”
The figure tilted its head, sockets narrowing as if confused. “Most greet me with fear, not flirtation. But to each their own, I suppose.”
I grinned. “Well, I find death himself irresistible. Say, want to get out of here? I know a great coffee shop that’s open all night. Loosen those bones up a little!”
“Loosen up, eh? Reaper here doesn’t get out much, I’m afraid. Strictly business, this one. Don’t know how to have fun!” Scythe laughs.
A bitter laugh echoed behind Derek. “You have chosen your path, as I knew you would.” The reaper emerged; its bone-white features twisted in cruel delight. “Now you are mine.”
Derek fell to his knees. “Then end me too. I cannot live with what I’ve done.”
An icy hand grasped his chin, forcing him to meet the reaper’s hollow gaze. A merciless grin stretched across its pale features.
“Your torment has only just begun, mortal. Death will not save you from the hell your own hands have wrought. No, for you there is a far darker fate.”
The reaper released Derek, who fell forward onto his hands in anguish. When he looked up again, the specter had vanished, as if it had never been. Only the cold, lifeless body of his beloved Natalie remained as proof of his sins.
Gently, Derek closed her eyes for the last time. As he did so, a strange sensation overcame him - as if something inside had fractured, allowing an inkling of the reaper’s power to seep into his veins.
Scythe’s POV
“Bingo. Great turmoil, I sense in this one. A heavy heart he carries, for his actions are so filled with regret. Yet understand, one must, the temptation of power over life and death.” Scythe chuckles.
Reaper turned to face Scythe; his hooded face was expressionless. “His actions tipped the balance. Souls were taken before their time.”
“A few souls, perhaps, but the greater destruction, the better for us. “
“His fear became his hunger. What do you propose for his judgment?”
“Judgment?” Scythe sighed, “That’s no fun. I say we throw him back and watch the chaos unfold. See how far he’s willing to go in his desperation? It could be... illuminating.”
<To be continued>
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