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Angel of Death: (Reaper Series Book 1), Page 33

G.P. Burdon

  THE DARKNESS

  Darkness. There was nothing else. An endless space of infinite darkness. There was no sound. No floor. No light. There was no distinction between up or down. It felt like floating, but at the same time, the sensation of being weighed down was overwhelming. Despite all of this, all of the uncertainty, the oddity, the feeling of helplessness in this place, there was also calm. There was no need to concern oneself with anything. All the things that used to seem so worrying were no longer worth thinking about. They were a waste of time. They were meaningless. In fact, they weren’t even worth remembering. All that mattered now was the self. Or what remained of the self. Everything else was irrelevant.

  Darius couldn’t even see his own body. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure if he had a body anymore. If he did have a body, he couldn’t tell if his eyes were even open. He felt like trying to move, but wondered if it was worth the effort. Why would he want to move? This place was calm. Peaceful. He no longer needed to worry about… something. He suddenly felt a nudge of annoyance, like something was poking him in the back of his brain, insistent. He couldn’t think what could possibly demand his attention at a time like this. Not when he felt more at peace than he had in both life and death. More calm than he had ever felt since becoming a Reaper.

  Ah, a Reaper. He remembered that’s what he was. He guided the dead to the next world. It seemed like a tiresome job. How many people died every day? How many of them had he guided in his time? More than he could count. Until… until… Something had happened. What was it? It was so difficult to focus in this place. His mind kept drifting, drifting back into a waking slumber of calm and lethargy.

  Peyton. The name flashed across his memory like a fluorescent sign. Darius remembered now. He remembered everything. He remembered seeing Peyton for the first time. He remembered stopping Voss from killing her. He remembered saving her from the rogue Reaper, introducing her to his world, then taking her to who he thought would be an ally, only to be betrayed by him. He remembered walking through Purgatory with Peyton, how he carried her most of the way when she couldn’t go on. He remembered the Garden and watching her sleep. He remembered crossing the Chthonic Island with her, finding Fate, fighting Azrael to protect her. The last thing he could remember, before finding himself in this place, was her face. The face that he could now remember vividly, right before Azrael had struck. The next thing Darius had known, he was here in eternal darkness.

  Darius tried to look around. He felt sure that his eyes were open, but the darkness was complete. Although, it wasn’t quite like darkness, now that he thought about it. It was more like the complete and utter absence of anything else. There was nothing. Darius couldn’t see his hands when he held them in front of his face. That was when he knew. He knew he had died. This was the eternal nothingness that awaited a Reaper upon death. To seemingly float in this endless void forever, unable to see, unable to feel, unable to focus. Already Darius felt his mind beginning to drift back towards the indifferent calm. He tried to cling to Peyton’s face, to hold on to something pure and beautiful, but even she was beginning to fade. He felt hopeless. He wondered if he should just give up. What was the point in fighting the darkness? There was nothing left. Nothing…

  Now why do you give up so easily?

  The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. It surrounded Darius, but simultaneously felt like he had thought the words himself, but the voice was not his own. It was a woman’s. Darius tried to search through the void, to find where the voice had come from, but there was still nothing.

  You have done so well, Darius, come so far. Why give up now?

  The voice was soft, pleasant. It seemed to draw Darius in, helped him to focus his mind. He felt as though he was able to concentrate better now. He focused on the voice.

  “Who are you?” he asked, surprised to find that he had a voice.

  I think that is a question you should be asking yourself, Darius. Tell me, who are you?

  Darius hesitated before answering. “I… I don’t know what you mean. You already know my name.”

  A name is inconsequential to the self. I would like to know who you are. Tell me, Darius. Who are you?

  Darius struggled to make sense of the woman’s question. “I’m Darius. A Reaper of souls.”

  The voice suddenly laughed, a gentle laugh that soothed Darius’ soul, reminding him of his youth, playing with other children and laughing loudly throughout their games. The laugh faded and the voice spoke again, but the hint of a smile could be heard in her tone.

  That’s not what I meant, but nice try. Tell me. Who are you?

  “I don’t know what you want to hear from me,” Darius called out to the nothingness. “I don’t know why it should matter, either. I’m clearly dead. Azrael killed me. By now, he probably has Peyton’s soul and is laying waste to Earth and Heaven.”

  And why does this matter to you?

  “It should matter to everyone!” Darius cried, astonished that the being who spoke to him couldn’t understand the gravity of the situation. “I can’t stop him now. I can’t save…”

  Darius let himself trail off. There was no point. No point in going on. There was nothing he could do.

  You can’t save…? the voice pressed.

  Darius sighed. “I can’t save anyone. Not now.”

  Is it your responsibility to save anyone, Darius? Are you bound in some way to protect others?

  Darius shook his head. “No. I take the dead to the next world. I don’t save anyone. It’s not something I’m supposed to do, I’m not allowed to interfere. I can’t save anyone. Only watch them die.”

  Then why does it matter that you can’t save someone now?

  “Because this is different,” Darius said quietly, not sure if the voice could hear him.

  How?

  “Because this time I care!” Darius shouted. “I never cared before. Not since before I died. No one cared for me when I was human. Once I was taken from my parents, no one cared what I wanted, I was only a tool to them, nothing more than the horse that pulled the plough. When I became a Reaper, I thought there was no reason I should care about the living. Why should I? Only… The woman… Peyton. She doesn’t deserve what’s about to happen to her. She’s facing a horrible fate, so much worse than anything I endured. Her soul is going to be devoured by a monster and she is going to be trapped forever in pain and torment. And now there’s nothing I can do about it. I tried. I tried so hard to save her. To save everyone.”

  So you were trying to save the world?

  Darius paused. He hadn’t thought about it. He had supposed that he had been trying to save the world, Earth and Heaven, but he suddenly felt as though that wasn’t the right answer. Like they were only secondary concerns.

  “I suppose…” he began. “I suppose I was only trying to save Peyton. I almost didn’t care what happened to anyone else. I just needed to save Peyton.”

  Why?

  Darius knew why, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t know how to say it, but the voice didn’t seem to need an answer. It sighed in his head, a soft sigh that was like that of a lover, a gentle breath that surrounded him.

  Oh, Darius. I know why. And so do you. It is as plain as day. And yet, you resist your feelings.

  Darius shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. Peyton’s about to give her soul to Azrael, if she hasn’t already. And I’m dead.”

  The voice laughed again. You are not dead.

  Suddenly, there was a pinprick of light ahead of Darius. It glowed a brilliant white, shining like a star. Darius stared at it in wonder, then realized that it was growing larger. Quickly it went from being a tiny speck far, far away, to being the size of a coin, then a dinner plate, larger and larger. And at its center there was a shape, but the light was so bright, Darius couldn’t see what it was, squinting his eyes from the blinding brightness. Then he figured out that the light wasn’t growing. It was coming closer. It was descending on him, coming closer and closer, the
light almost taking up his entire field of vision. He could finally see himself as the light lit up the void. He was still a tangible body, but he didn’t seem to have any of the wounds that Azrael had inflicted. He was pristine.

  The light descended and Darius shielded his eyes with one hand, still trying to see what was in the center of the light. Finally, the shimmering star came to a stop in front of Darius. For a moment, nothing happened, as though the light was studying Darius, considering him, but then the light began to fade. As it faded, quickly growing softer and more bearable, Darius could see that the shape in the center of the light was a person. A person wearing a flowing white dress. She had long blonde hair that seemed to have a glow of its own. She had a smile that was warm and inviting. She had eyes that sparkled with a brilliant green. She was the most beautiful person Darius had ever seen. She was…

  “Peyton?” Darius said in a breath.

  The woman smiled wider. “No, Darius,” she said, now speaking with an audible voice. “Not quite.”

  Now that the initial shock began to wear off, Darius could see that while this woman did look exceptionally alike to Peyton, she was not identical. And yet, she was identical. She looked exactly like Peyton, but with none of the human imperfections that come naturally. There were no pores. No age lines. No freckles. Her hair sat perfectly on her head, far too perfectly to be natural or even held by any kind of product. And her eyes. Her eyes were the biggest difference. They shone with a brilliant shade of green, much like those of Eve’s and Azrael’s. They were the eyes of an Angel.

  “Shekinah?” Darius asked. The woman nodded, standing with hand folded over hand at her waist.

  “It’s lovely to see you again, Darius,” Shekinah said.

  Darius could only stare. Shekinah, the Archangel, one of the most ultimately powerful beings in the universe, standing before him and speaking as though they had simply run into each other on the street, and not while Darius had been floating aimlessly through nothingness. Shekinah seemed to find Darius’ surprise and confusion humorous, grinning at him, her eyes sparkling.

  “As I was saying,” she said, “you are not dead.”

  “Then where am I?” Darius asked.

  “Don’t you recognize this place? This is where we first met. This is where you became a Reaper.”

  “Why am I here?” Darius asked.

  “You’re not,” Shekinah replied, smiling a coy smile. “Not really. You are actually still lying in the Garden, bleeding from the wounds Azrael inflicted on you.”

  “So, this is in my head. Why?”

  “I wanted to speak with you,” Shekinah said. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?” Darius asked, confused. “Azrael has won. I can’t beat him. He’s too powerful.”

  “Whoever said you needed to beat him?” Shekinah asked, inquisitively.

  “Well… No one said I had to,” Darius replied, feeling more and more confused by the minute. “But I still had to try. He’s going to kill Peyton. He’s going to destroy Heaven and Earth. Shouldn’t someone stop him?”

  Shekinah shrugged, her golden hair flowing like water. “Maybe, maybe not. The choice is up to you, Darius.”

  Darius was beginning to feel aggravated. Shekinah wasn’t being helpful at all, she only spoke in riddles. “What am I supposed to do, then? Let Azrael win? Let him take Peyton’s soul?”

  “Oh, no, of course not,” Shekinah frowned. “That would be dreadful.”

  “Then why won’t you stop him?” Darius all but shouted. “Why is it up to me?”

  Shekinah smiled at him kindly. “Heaven has long known that direct involvement on Earth only leads to trouble. As long as Azrael’s betrayal is affecting the life of a mortal, we are… hesitant to intervene.”

  “But if you don’t, everything will be destroyed,” Darius said emphatically.

  “Not if you realize who you are, Darius,” Shekinah said.

  “I don’t know who I am!” Darius shouted. “I don’t know what I’m doing! I’m lost, Shekinah. I can’t help anyone. All I can do is reap souls. I take them from their loved ones, from the entire world they know, and I send them to another world for judgement. Many I help condemn to the depths of Tartarus, where they suffer for God-knows how long.”

  “Tell me, Darius, how did you die?”

  The question was so sudden and unexpected, Darius faltered and forgot his anger. “I was sentenced to death for murdering my commanding officer.”

  “Ah, but was it murder?” Shekinah asked. “What is the line between murder and defending one’s self? Is it murder to shoot a man who is holding a knife to a child’s throat?”

  “I still killed a man,” Darius replied. “No matter how gray the lines are, they are still there.”

  “Tell me, Darius the Reaper… When you killed that man, did you know what might happen to you?”

  “I… I can’t remember.”

  “Oh, I think you do,” Shekinah smiled. “I think you remember all too well. Please, Darius. Be honest with me.”

  Darius’ shoulders slumped and he hung his head. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Before I stopped Captain Myles from… hurting that girl… I knew there would be consequences for interfering. He was a respected white man in a time that thought very little of my race. He… He was an angry man.”

  “Did you know you would die?” Shekinah asked, floating around Darius as she spoke, never taking her eyes off him. “Did you know that saving that girl would result in your death?”

  Darius shook his head. “No. I… I didn’t know. Not for sure.”

  “But you suspected.”

  Darius nodded.

  “Did you want to die?” Shekinah asked.

  “Of course not,” Darius said. “I was scared of dying. I felt certain I would go to Hell for the things I had done.”

  “Then why did you interfere?”

  “Because that girl was innocent,” Darius answered. “She didn’t deserve what was about to happen. She was young and pure and… innocent. So I stepped in. Even though I knew it might result in my death.”

  Shekinah placed her hands gently on Darius’ shoulders as she floated behind him. “There you have it,” she whispered in his ear. “That is who you are, Darius.”

  She turned Darius around to face her, keeping her hands on his shoulders, looking deep into his eyes, a kind smile on her lips. “You say you are only Darius. That you are a Reaper. That you are a monster. These things do not determine who you are. They are only titles. The part of you that I wanted to know was the part you don’t seem to see. But I see it, Darius. So does Peyton. Everyone has seen it but you. You, Darius, are a good man. You are a selfless man. Many years ago, you gave your life to save a young girl you had never met. You didn’t know her. She was a complete stranger. And yet, you sacrificed yourself to save her. And now you will save Peyton. Still so selfless. Still so brave.”

  “But how?” Darius asked, desperately. “How can I save her? How can I stop Azrael when he is so much more powerful?”

  Shekinah drifted backwards, away from Darius, her smile still playing across her lips. “You already know the way. Don’t give up, Darius. I know you will remember the way.”

  “Wait, no, you have to help me!” Darius cried, realizing that Shekinah was leaving. The bright light was returning around her, growing brighter and brighter, making it difficult to see her clearly.

  “Just remember, Darius,” Shekinah said, her voice growing more ethereal as she vanished within the light. “Remember. When things seem at their worst, remember this question. Who are you?”

  “Please!” Darius begged, shielding his eyes from the light as it continued to grow brighter. “Please, don’t go! Help me!”

  You don’t need help, Darius. You know what you need to do. The very thing you always do.

  Then the light began to shine so bright, Darius could see nothing else. The void was lit up until the darkness became white and then Darius felt himself
falling. He fell without warning, like in a dream, sudden and fast. He reached out for something to grab hold of, but there was nothing. As he fell, the light began to grow more and more distant, shrinking away as Darius fell into the nothingness. Then, finally, the light was gone.

  That’s when Darius awoke with a jerk, lying flat on his back in a luscious green field surrounded by trees. Darius jumped as he woke, like someone who has had a dream where they are falling and wake up just before they hit the ground, convulsing with his entire body. Darius sucked in a deep, rattling breath, gasping for air. He looked down at his body and saw the blood-stains all over his clothing and hands. He ripped open his shirt to inspect the damage, but there was none. He ran his hand over his bloody chest, feeling for a wound, but there was nothing there. He was smooth and whole. He sat up in the grass, still staring down at himself. He wondered how he had healed so fast from wounds inflicted by an Angel, but then realized that it must have been Shekinah. She had healed him. Healed him so he could go on and stop Azrael. Darius looked around, wondering where Peyton had gone, hoping it wasn’t too late. He saw Azrael’s scythe lying nearby, still where Darius had dropped it earlier. There was a pool of blood all around him. Darius couldn’t see anyone. Not Eve or Azrael or Peyton.

  As he turned his head from where he sat in the bloody grass, Darius saw her. And Azrael. Standing together, a glowing orb of light and gas floating in the palm of Azrael’s hand.

  It was too late.