I jump with the help of the wind, rushing against my clothes and whipping my hair on top of me. I see a spiraling black mist underneath the water's surface, resembling a whirlpool. I flail instinctively, uneasiness washing over me before I even hit the water.
When I hit, I hold my breath, trying to keep steady as I'm literally being sucked inside. The intense pressure builds up and I nearly panic, instincts and reflex taking over, I try helplessly to swim up and my mouth bursts open, having had enough with the lack of constant airflow.
I choke, and before I know it, all essence of light is washed away as I enter the World of the Reaper.
.....
I feel sore and have a hard time breathing. I gasp for air and roll over on my back, opening my eyes which sting as they also try to stabilize my vision. I unstably make myself stand, gripping a nearby edge for support. I blink several times, brushing my hair away to try and get rid of the blur. When my vision finally stabilizes, I'm met with a familiar bizarre scene.
I stand on a dock, a dark wood as sturdy as forever can be. Water surrounds me on three sides and a small boat, big enough to squeeze maybe three or four bodies on is strapped to a wooden post, a lantern emitting an eerie green glow catches my attention. It brightens the nearby area in the water as well, revealing varying images, changing every other second. I always wondered but had never asked Him before... Were these memories? Memories of the dead?
I turn away from the flashing images and look about me; a huge harvest moon envelopes the whole back round of the mansion ahead, no lights to show anyone actually lives there. A dark wooden pathway from the end of the dock here following up a long walk. An arched silver gateway ends the path to the mansion, dead looking trees with a an eerie fruit hang, glowing purple with black spider veins, almost mocking the image of a heart, but this a bit more ominous.
The sky around me is full of black clouds, a swirl of dark colors varying from green purples and blues giving it a most wicked ethereal feel. Pieces of light fragments, the size of a firefly but with no glow litter the atmosphere, reflecting the luminescent moon. No movement of air or life flourishes around me and it almost feels like things here are frozen, forever a perfect home to any children's nightmare.
I take a deep breath, walking ahead in short steps, remaining cautious despite the amount of times I have been here. Each and every time, I feel as though I am being watched, and for sure that I am. I am in Death's territory and Death is everywhere, whether in the eternal sense or in his persona, the Grim Reaper.
The only sound I hear is my footsteps and even that in itself seems too quiet. I would be lying to say I am nervous every time I come here. I feel the beat as my heart as I draw closer to the entrance. Sweat dabbles at the corner of my forehead and falls in a slow path, caressing the curve of my cheek. I take in my surroundings as if it were my first time, looking at the dead bark, deformed, splitting trees, the darkest black. Poison fruit, glowing along the branches, hanging in temptation.
Pfffttt! I shoot my head over to the left and a rundown stable sits with the same wood from the dock, hay around an open stall. I see a pale, muscular horse, a large bundle of hay in it's mouth. Funny, I don't remember ever seeing a horse being here? I squint closer at it when it turns to me and my heart nearly jumps out of my skin. It's staring at me with big, round, abyssal pits, absent of a physical eye. A second neigh rings through the stiff air and I cant believe my eyes when a crimson stallion trots near the pale one, its eye's glow golden, as if a pit of fire burned deep within.
I stumble back and walk backwards towards the mansion steps, not taking my eyes off them. I back up until my heel hits the edge of the first stair and I cannot go back any further before heading up.
Creeekkkkk! I jump, turning around in the process and see the mansion double doors are spread wide, open. I take another deep breath, knowing all too well that I'm being expected and I'm probably being patiently waited upon. I take a few seconds to regain my composure before putting on a half assed smile and setting my chin up high before walking determinedly up the dark steps. I take my first step in, then a second and a third, before I know it a candle lights to my right, sitting atop an antique dresser and set upon a dusty decorational plate with a handle.
Instead of a normal orange-red flame, this flame glows the same as that of the boat's: an eerie green. It barely brightens the room but just enough to make out the same old dusted out picture frames that seem to be fossilized in a coat of dust. An antique clock, the hands forever pointing to midnight. The other side on the entryway, a royal mirror hangs on the wall, fossilized in dust as well. Another dresser with relatively the same trinkets sits below it in perfect symmetry.
I take the plate holding the single candelabra and open the door leading to the main room. Almost magically, large candelabras light up all around the room, revealing a bay window area, an ominous moonlight pouring in, pushing the darkness away from a fairly ancient, yet sturdy looking antique piano. Small candle holders are built into the sides with half used candle wax, flaring up to purple flames.
The flooring is dusted wood, once-elegant rugs lay sprawled in organized fashion where the piano sits. To my left there sits another area, but closed off by decorated wooden walls and a carved door. Large paintings of old school artwork are barely visibly, showing people from different eras, fighting and being reborn again, as well as some being punished.
I finally land my eyes in front of me, the green flames sprawled apart within a width of the hallway, suits of ancient armor and swords decorate every several feet down. I pass up many doors leading to a possible endless amount of rooms of whatever the Grim Reaper could possibly be interested in doing. After all, I doubt he got many visitors interested in staying over. (Haha!)
I make it to a large overpass room, the sides lined with two-story glass-stained windows in the design of crying angels and lonely demons. A large rug decorates the center and directly ahead of me, in the middle of split staircases, sits a huge portrait, sitting at second level of a handsome man with an unusual skin tone, the most beautiful blue eyes staring with indifferent eyes right back at you. Black, curly hair, mid length swoops around his forehead and ears, a set jaw line with a near perfect face. The man is in a black suit and stands passively at the painter, a golden crown. The frame is made of gold with designs, telling some sort of story. This is the only picture with near to no dust as it sits, shining blatantly.
Wall trimming cuts the wall in half horizontally, a double door where the golden skull handles rest unattended, waiting for my touch. I take one last, deep breath and head over there, gripping the handle with slight conviction, yet I mange to slowly turn it. I wait one last second, my palms feeling clammy before I push it forward.
A purple rug leads from the doors all the way forward to a large, high desk. The floor is black marble and shelves upon shelves line the large room. On those shelves are lined with hourglasses, most have yet to reach the bottom. All are with the regular grey sand and each has symbols in some forgotten language. A few chandeliers hang with the same themed color flames. Ancient looking throne chairs are faced towards the desk and several glass cases filled with souls as well. Why in a separate spot, though?
"Auh, you made it. What took you so long?" a deep voice echoes through the room, drawing my attention towards the high desk. A man with a suit sits on a throne chair, golden skulls on each head board point of the chair, resting on each side of the mans head. The throne is made of a dark metal material with a pale plush cushion. The first thing I notice of the man are his familiar green eyes, the second is the cocky way he is laying on the throne.
"Shouldn't you be out, collecting?" I raise an eyebrow, cross my arms and cock my hip, ready to give him attitude.
"Not when I've been called forth to collect the souls from you." he smiles, the lines in his face becoming more apparent and deep. I had no idea how old he was, but he looked to be middle aged to me. Did they ever age? I wonder...
"I don't take orders from you." I mention, but nearly take it back seeing how the quicker I get this done the quicker I get to go back to my world. He smiles, sitting slant in the chair as he crosses one leg, adjacent from the other, his eyes never leaving mine.
"I never mentioned you did... However, we don't want to be here all night, do we? Not that I have much to complain about, but seeing how you're the one that wants to go home..." he straightens up, revealing his crimson attire. His hair is dark and his eyes give off a look of mischief.
"Right..." I say, unsure if I should even be considering this. Would Grim be angry if this guy wasn't telling the truth? Maybe I shouldn't be putting to much thought into this, but something about him seems off...
"Standing there and staring into space isn't gonna get you very far, you know." he mocks, a brow raised as he sits diagonally on the throne. He looks at me with curiosity before leaning over the desk, his hands and brows together in thought.
"Are you worried about what He has to say about this?"
I remain silent and don't like the way he seems too familiar talking to me. He shrugs after time passes with no reaction form me and begins, "I saw you earlier today before you arrived. Say, how did the soul collecting go?"
I feel my face heat up and anger rises from within me as I try to hold my tongue. He seems to notice and smiles in the very way I hate. "Aw, don't look at me like that. It was meant to be, anyway."
"You mean, I was supposed to save the girl? I thought that since I'm-"
I'm cut off as he answers before I can finish, "Not quite true. Just because you're in your situation doesn't mean that there's still not a plan in set for you."
I'm not sure what to say or think and before I know it, I'm frozen in contemplation. How could I still be a part of peoples lives? I died and I was brought back, but I'm not the same me as I was once a long time ago. Two years ago to be exact.
"You look stupid with your face like that; all bent out of shape in thought as you realize your life, or what's left of it, anyway, still matters to what happens around you."
"My life is none of your business!" I snap, dropping the bag of hourglasses. With this, he just smiles, his eyes slanted like a cats and he gestures for me to leave.
"When will he be back?" I say with a little more civility.
"He never left." he answers and walks over to take the hourglasses from the bag, his frame is much more muscular than what had seemed when he was sitting in the throne. His muscles bulge and show through his fancy dress shirt. He towers over me in height and doesn't seem to notice me eyeing him up and down, much to my relief.
"You may go." He states as he throws the bag in my arms and walks away, inspecting the first hourglass or in other words, soul.
I don't take another second in this place and turn to leave. I reach the door and hear, "Your new assignment will appear shortly."
I turn to glare at him and open the door, grumbling as I turn forward and storm my way out. I pass the horses as they stare at me, one with it's abyssal pits and the other with glowing flames. I feel my skin crawl as I pass them, staring at me and never blinking if they could even do that. I head all the way to the small rowboat, looking at it's pathetic appearance. It looks old and rigid even though I know it will never give way, it stills makes me nervous each time I have to go back to it.
Carefully, I step in, keeping my balance and making sure my bag is fine and secure. I sit and begin to row to the middle of the lake, passing images surround me with an assortment of low noises. Some laughter, cries, gunshots and others haunt the area. In reality, I doubt any human would find this place cool or even being a reaper as awesome as it may be in a videogame. Things just aren't the same in real life and I couldn't be happier to pretend that this side of my life is just a dream.
I sigh in relief, realizing I have made my way to a dead, willow tree. It's viney branches stretch down, it's tips brushing against the water. A post protrudes from the eerie water, still as it stands next tot eh thick trunk. Black, rotten fruit float around the tree and if I had to guess, they resemble much to the modern rotten apple, yet look almost unearthly.
I take a deep breath and tie the rope to the post, my heart thumping faster and harder as to what I know I'm about to do. I take many deep breathes, bracing for impact as I steady myself on the boat edge, holding the post for some support so as to not tilt the boat. My reflection rings clear in the still water, the images stay far clear from this small area, under the willow. No wind or breeze reaches here and it remains eerily still. I take a deep breath and hold it, shutting my eyes, I stop thinking altogether and raise a foot over the edge before I jump.
I hit the icy water with a thud, my body spiraling in all different directions as I'm being pushed to and from all over the place. I lose every sense of direction and wait as best I can before I open my eyes. Darkness surrounds me and the current doesn't stop here, it rushes me and flips me, not leaving a moments break from the never ending struggle.
Not too long after, I can barely hold my breath as the pressure is too much. I feel shards of sharp rocks below, and am relieved I'm being pushed to shore. I grasp around, trying to make contact with some of the more larger rocks to try and grip my escape from this nightmare. It takes a few tries and I am nearly bursting with the temptation to breathe, but try and hold out a little longer. Could I even drown? I didn't want to find out...
I stretch my hand out farther, bringing up dust clouds of sand which I now because it hits me straight in the face. I can't hold it any longer and breathe out, taking in water. I choke underneath, desperately trying to find anything to cling onto. I finally grab a slimy rock, grabbing into a groove I am shoved with the pressure from the current. I try and make my way up onto the shore, my lungs burning and stinging as I feel crunched, sharp pebbles below my hands, scraping my flesh as I climb.
I cant see and breathe in more water, my body getting heavier and heavier as I try and push, pulling myself upwards towards the riverbank. The current is too strong and I lose my grip and am once again spiraling into the deep abyss. I feel myself unable to move and everything begins to get darker. Eventually I stop trying to struggle, my energy drained, my body in agony as I feel my body slow down. My eyes are too heavy to lift and I begin to feel my life, what is left of it, slip away...415Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKWuybb8z8b
