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Authors: Alex Bledsoe, Tara Cardinal
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foot, kicked it back into the air, and grabbed it by the hilt. I tore at the remaining webbing that threatened to tangle my limbs.
Amelia was suddenly at my side, trying to grab me as if I was about to collapse. “Come on, let’s get out of here—”
“Stand back!” I said, surprised by how thin my own voice sounded. Was I really hurt that badly? “I’m fine!”
“Watch it!” she screamed and pushed me aside just as the spider, injured but not cowed, scuttled toward us. I fell to the ground, yelled at the pain as my shoulder struck the hard dirt, and watched Amelia run to hide behind the crossed wood. The spider was faster, though, and I got to my feet just as it shot webbing out and pinned her face-first to the wood.
“Help!” Amelia said, struggling. It was the first time she sounded really panicked.
The spider crawled up her back and positioned its fangs over the back of her head.
And then…
I stood over the spider’s remains. Five of its legs were torn off, the enormous abdomen had been smashed so that its green-yellow pulp soaked everything, and the fangs trembled as they impotently squeezed out their last drops of venom. The three remaining legs curled up to the body.
I let my sword drop to the ground. My vision was bright red around the edges.
“Holy shit,” Amelia gasped as she extricated herself from the webbing. “I mean…no, I’ll stick with, ‘holy shit.’”
I knew what had happened. A human had been threatened, and my Reaper nature had taken over. Not even this supposed god could withstand that.
I turned toward Amelia. At the sight of her still holding the stick defensively, the fury tried to return. Kill her. She’s a threat. Wipe your face with her blood. Drink her last breath… This was my Demon nature, the thing Adonis, Eldrid, and even Andre were afraid of.
I imagined her shredded by my sword, decapitated, disemboweled, all the horrible things I knew a Demon could do to an impossibly fragile human body. I could almost taste her blood, smell her entrails, see the glassy film over her dead eyes. It would take so little effort and feel so good…
I choked it down and asked, “Are you all right?” My voice still had the low, Demonic growl of battle, and it made Amelia jump.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Good,” I rumbled.
“That was…how did you…where did you learn to do that?”
I smiled. From the look on Amelia’s face, I could tell that only made things worse. “It caught me in a bad mood.”
“Remind me to bring you flowers every day then.” Her voice changed. “Wow, you’re really hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice sounded weird. Not Demon weird but thick and gummy. I put my hand to my face and felt a batch of the spider’s quill-hair protruding from my cheek. There was also a flap of skin where I’d bitten my sword. “It looks worse than it is.”
She tore a strip from her gown. “Here, let me at least bind up that cut.”
She meant the huge slash across my thigh. It was so deep, I could see the muscles where they’d been split. Blood pulsed out with each heartbeat, but the healing itch had already started. There was no way out of explaining it now, so I started to say, “Don’t worry; I’m a Reaper. I heal very quickly.”
I only got as far as “I’m.” The venom, which I’d forgotten about, finally took hold. A searing jolt went through my brain, and I fell to the ground. The last thing I saw was Amelia’s concerned face over me. She’s worried about me. A human, concerned about a Reaper. Just like the boy who…
And then I was out.
#
In a Reaper’s healing trance, our brains don’t entirely shut down. Rather, they go off into a dreamtime uniquely our own. Humans dream of abstract and wondrous things, I’m told. Reapers dream of lessons still unlearned.
I looked up at my mother. I was tiny then, and I adored her the way only a child adores a parent. I would probably have adored her even if we weren’t related
Amelia was suddenly at my side, trying to grab me as if I was about to collapse. “Come on, let’s get out of here—”
“Stand back!” I said, surprised by how thin my own voice sounded. Was I really hurt that badly? “I’m fine!”
“Watch it!” she screamed and pushed me aside just as the spider, injured but not cowed, scuttled toward us. I fell to the ground, yelled at the pain as my shoulder struck the hard dirt, and watched Amelia run to hide behind the crossed wood. The spider was faster, though, and I got to my feet just as it shot webbing out and pinned her face-first to the wood.
“Help!” Amelia said, struggling. It was the first time she sounded really panicked.
The spider crawled up her back and positioned its fangs over the back of her head.
And then…
I stood over the spider’s remains. Five of its legs were torn off, the enormous abdomen had been smashed so that its green-yellow pulp soaked everything, and the fangs trembled as they impotently squeezed out their last drops of venom. The three remaining legs curled up to the body.
I let my sword drop to the ground. My vision was bright red around the edges.
“Holy shit,” Amelia gasped as she extricated herself from the webbing. “I mean…no, I’ll stick with, ‘holy shit.’”
I knew what had happened. A human had been threatened, and my Reaper nature had taken over. Not even this supposed god could withstand that.
I turned toward Amelia. At the sight of her still holding the stick defensively, the fury tried to return. Kill her. She’s a threat. Wipe your face with her blood. Drink her last breath… This was my Demon nature, the thing Adonis, Eldrid, and even Andre were afraid of.
I imagined her shredded by my sword, decapitated, disemboweled, all the horrible things I knew a Demon could do to an impossibly fragile human body. I could almost taste her blood, smell her entrails, see the glassy film over her dead eyes. It would take so little effort and feel so good…
I choked it down and asked, “Are you all right?” My voice still had the low, Demonic growl of battle, and it made Amelia jump.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Good,” I rumbled.
“That was…how did you…where did you learn to do that?”
I smiled. From the look on Amelia’s face, I could tell that only made things worse. “It caught me in a bad mood.”
“Remind me to bring you flowers every day then.” Her voice changed. “Wow, you’re really hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice sounded weird. Not Demon weird but thick and gummy. I put my hand to my face and felt a batch of the spider’s quill-hair protruding from my cheek. There was also a flap of skin where I’d bitten my sword. “It looks worse than it is.”
She tore a strip from her gown. “Here, let me at least bind up that cut.”
She meant the huge slash across my thigh. It was so deep, I could see the muscles where they’d been split. Blood pulsed out with each heartbeat, but the healing itch had already started. There was no way out of explaining it now, so I started to say, “Don’t worry; I’m a Reaper. I heal very quickly.”
I only got as far as “I’m.” The venom, which I’d forgotten about, finally took hold. A searing jolt went through my brain, and I fell to the ground. The last thing I saw was Amelia’s concerned face over me. She’s worried about me. A human, concerned about a Reaper. Just like the boy who…
And then I was out.
#
In a Reaper’s healing trance, our brains don’t entirely shut down. Rather, they go off into a dreamtime uniquely our own. Humans dream of abstract and wondrous things, I’m told. Reapers dream of lessons still unlearned.
I looked up at my mother. I was tiny then, and I adored her the way only a child adores a parent. I would probably have adored her even if we weren’t related
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