Jake found Agent Reaper crouched over her own grave. She had something in her hand. He stepped closer, to see her crumple a sheet of paper in one hand and draw a knife out of thin air with the other.

Jake raised his hands defensively. It hardly mattered to Reaper that he was the one who found her in that alley, naked, covered with blood mostly not her own, and took her to safe haven. To her, Jake was just another bastard who wanted to use her powers and didn't care one whit about the girl who held said powers.

Maybe she was right. He had attended the mock funeral. He had watched her parents weep. And he hadn't objected to any of it. Because his organization needed her power.

Yeah, he was a bastard. Not much better than the ones who stole her from her family in the middle of the night, really. One of these days, he'd answer for his crimes. Maybe to Reaper. Maybe to the Aspect which wore her slender body and even now glared out of her eyes.

“This isn't a social visit,” he informed her. “I have a mission for you.”

Skye raised one eyebrow, waiting.

“There's a Slasher. You know what that is?”

She nodded. “Revenant spirit inhabiting the flesh of...” she trailed off, consulting with a voice he couldn't hear. Her eyes glimmered silver for a moment. Normally they were just cold gray.

“They take over the body of the last survivor of their stable of victims,” he filled in. “Slashers trap somewhere between seven to thirteen victims in an isolated location, hunt them down, torture and kill them. Either they kill all of them, gain a massive power boost, and start a new stable, or one of the victims overcomes the slasher, and it takes over their body.”

“Lose lose situation,” Reaper said, straightening to her full and not at all impressive five feet. She ran a hand through her short shorn white blonde hair. When he'd found her, that hair had been ankle length and dyed red with the blood of her victims. The length was apparently a side effect of the Aspect she carried. A significant portion of her stipend went to a trusted hair stylist.

“Yeah. We're sending you in," Jake said. "You're the only agent in the area who can stop and kill a Slasher without becoming its next host.”

Her head tilted like a bird's. Inquisitive, and harmless. Unless you were the worm she was considering. “There are others out of the area? I'd like to meet them someday.”

“Sure.” Because THAT thought wasn't at all terrifying. The other agents who could resist a Slasher's possession were a lawful Necromancer and a living host for a dozen child ghosts. The Necromancer would probably fall to his knees to worship her. The other one would smite Jake and anyone else involved in recruiting Agent Reaper. Then try to adopt her. 

Nope. No way those meetings could go wrong.

“Have you arranged transport?” Agent Reaper asked, all business. You'd hardly know she was fourteen. Not old enough to drive, so he couldn't just issue her a vehicle.

“Murgatroyd is waiting by the front gate." Jake hesitated. "There's a complication.”

She waited.

“The location is a dead mall. You know, a mostly closed abandoned mall?”

“I know the term.”

“Yeah. This one is the mall in the old shopping district downtown. Four Pines.” Jake was stalling, giving too much information but not what she needed to know.

“I remember it. There used to be a carousel in the food court. My parents took me there to ride it a few times, before it closed.”

“It, ah, it is currently used as a headquarters by,” he took a deep breath. “By the Hunt Initiative.”

Reaper took a step back. Rested a hand on her tombstone. “You want me to risk my life... to rescue members of the Initiative.”

“I want you to stop a Slasher before it is able to make another cycle," Jake said. "You know better than me how powerful they get, the more stables they go through. This thing is on its fourth cycle. And it takes the full thirteen victims to boot. It might be able to break loose if it takes a new host this time.”

She looked away. Her back was straight. Her shoulders shook faintly. Guilt filled Jake's gut.

“I hate them. I'm not supposed to. I'm not a judge. Just... they... they took so much from me.”

Jake nodded even if she wasn't looking at him. “You are human, Agent." Jake corrected himself, and softened his voice. "Skye. You were a little girl. It's okay to be mad.”

“But I still have to save them.” Her voice was flat, emotionless.

He shrugged. “Life isn't fair.”

She looked at him, eyes silver and ancient, all vulnerability gone once more.

“Death is.”