Derek jolted awake, his heart pounding beneath his hand.

The dream felt incredibly real—a shadowy reaper urging him to kill, whispering promises of salvation from his deepest fears.

He glanced at Natalie, peacefully asleep beside him. This couldn’t be real—he loved her.

Yet, as his breathing slowed, a flicker of doubt lingered. What if death eventually came for him?

The reaper’s offer was alluring: the chance to hold sway over life and death itself.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Derek slipped out of bed to get a glass of water.

As he walked by the bathroom, a flicker of movement in the mirror caught his eye.

He spun around, but all he saw was his own reflection, pale and haggard in the gloom.

Was it just his mind playing tricks or was it something more?

Long-buried desires had surfaced in his dreams. Throughout his life, he had felt helpless, at the mercy of forces beyond his control.

The mere thought of seizing that power, even in his dreams, was utterly intoxicating.

But no, he couldn’t. As Natalie shifted in her sleep, a small smile played on her lips as she whispered his name.

She loved him. He couldn’t afford to lose her light, not even for the reaper’s hollow promises.

Derek slipped back into bed, seeking solace in Natalie’s comforting embrace, as he shoved the reaper into the farthest corners of his mind where it belonged.

For now, at least. The seeds had been planted, and in the shadows, they grow.

With dawn’s first light sneaking through the curtain, Derek resolved his path. He braced himself against the sobs rising inside him, bending down to leave a final, lingering kiss on Natalie’s cheek.

She stirred with a sleepy moan. Derek smiled, brushing his hand across her brow as he whispered sweet nothings until her eyes closed once more. Then, as swift as the reaper’s shadow, his hands gripped her slender neck.

The reaper’s chilling words resonated in his mind: “Embrace it for your anguish. You’ll wield power over life and death.”

He had to flee, to resist the call of the reaper. But could he truly escape its shadow? As Derek stood to dress, he noticed a movement by the window. Behind the swaying curtain, a hooded figure peered inside—the reaper, come to collect what was owed.

Derek turned to see Natalie’s lifeless form sprawled on the bed, her vibrant eyes now devoid of all light. Remorse and self-loathing clenched his heart in an icy grip. What had he done?

A bitter laugh echoed behind Derek. “You’ve chosen your path, just as I expected,” the reaper intoned, its bone-white face contorted with cruel delight. “Now you are mine.”

Derek dropped to his knees. “Then finish me as well. I can’t live with what I’ve done.”

An icy hand gripped his chin, compelling him to meet the reaper’s hollow stare. A ruthless grin spread across its pale face.

“Your suffering is just beginning, mortal. Death won’t rescue you from the hell you’ve created. No, for you, a far darker fate awaits.”

Derek collapsed forward into his hands, released by the reaper. When he looked up, the specter was gone, as if it had never existed. Only the cold, lifeless body of his beloved Natalie remained, a haunting testament to his sins.

Derek closed his eyes for the last time. In that moment, a peculiar sensation washed over him—something within him felt as though it had shattered, allowing a whisper of the reaper’s power to course through his veins.

[TOD - August 17th, 1982, 5:00 a.m.]

Natalie’s POV

“Time of death,” a low, rasping voice sends a shiver down my spine.

My eyes finally focus on the stranger—a figure draped from head to toe in a flowing purple robe. Its skeletal face fixes an empty gaze on mine.

This couldn’t be real... was I still dreaming?

“Oh wow, you’re the Grim Reaper, aren’t you?” I say with a playful smile. “I never imagined death could look so... handsome.”

The figure tilts its head, the empty sockets narrowing in apparent confusion. “Most greet me with fear, not flirtation. But to each their own, I suppose.”

I grin. “Well, I can’t resist death himself. How about we get out of here? I know a fantastic all-night coffee shop. It’ll give you a chance to loosen those bones a bit!”

“Loosen up, you say? This Reaper’s all about business. Hardly ever steps out. Doesn’t even know how to have fun!” Scythe chuckles.

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 turns to Scythe, his hooded face devoid of emotion. “His actions upset the balance. Souls were taken before their time.”

“A few lost souls, maybe, but greater destruction serves us best.”

“His fear turned into his hunger. How should we judge him?”

“Judgment?” Scythe sighs, “That’s boring. Let’s toss him back and see the chaos unfold. Watching how far he’ll go in his desperation could be... illuminating.”

<To be continued>