Thread: Let Me Reap Your Soul (Survivor00 and Autumn)

Helena watched him slip away from her, being tethered back to the mortal world. Without consciousness, her arm outstretched to him, palm facing his chest. Her reaper mind didn't realize it, but but her fingers were extending toward him in a manner that would appear almost human, more like she was pushing him away than reeling him in. The small act could be credited to one of those rare moments when Helena, the vivacious girl who loved music and her family, dominated over the dooming angel of death. She, the remnants of her own soul, was ecstatic he was going to live while the immortal creature was not. The men worked with him without apprehension. Hands pumped so gracefully that one could only deem it as miraculous. She lingered in the shadows behind them, keeping her distance as though any of them could see her at any moment. Her face seemed solemn, though her lips were twisted into a slightly triumphant grin, like two personalities dueling to consume her. Her mighty wings were drawn inward, like a coward admitting defeat. She leaned lazily on her scythe as the flashing lights of red and blue blended, creating an odd illumination on his features. Helena was about to leave to harvest more souls out of retaliation of losing this one when she noticed something. . . strange. He seemed so dazed and disoriented, his body weak and limp, but his eyes were focused intently on. . . her? Her head turned sharply, but there was no one behind her. The paramedics lifted him into the ambulance, tearing him away from her. Stop! She called out to the deaf ears. Can you see me? She asked him, but it was a question to go unanswered. We have rules, Helena. A voice broke through her thoughts, interrupting her hopes about having been seen. You are no longer a mortal. The booming voice warned her, forcing her to focus her dull eyes on him. Him, the very reaper who had created her. He was both frightening and majestic, his full skeletal appearance signifying his age and lack of humanity. I know that. Her voice was calm, maybe like a gentle breeze to anyone that passed by. It was then that she realized her surroundings. No longer was she amidst the chaos with the revived boy and the sirens, but, rather, she was hovering in the darkness. She could make out the twinkle of lights, and perhaps the two of them were in the sky standing on a cloud. Maybe this was the place where they always met, the air between Heaven and Earth, but her memory wouldn't allow her to recall. It was you who pleaded to be spared from death. I simply honored that. You are not to spare anyone and your moment of hesitation cost you a soul! His bony hand lifted to her, forefinger extending to point directly in her face. This is your only warning! He leaned his long frame into her, enabling her to see the sockets where eyes had been once. One day, perhaps sooner than later, she would be just like him. That, to her, was more frightening than death that would never come. She was curious, no matter how much trouble that led to. Her tattered humanity would not back down, wanting to quench her desire to know if she had been visible to him. Maybe the dying embers in her heart could be reignited just maybe he could be the one to save her from her turmoil and restore her again. The hospital was bright with its white lights, white walls, and white linens. . . much too bright. His room, however, was dim and comforting. He was alone, though she had no way of knowing if it was because he had nobody or if they just hadn't come yet. The nurse had called him Daniel, a name that somehow suited him perfectly. Bending over his slumbering form, she took a moment to really look at him. His black hair was heavily disheveled, not because of the damage of the water but probably because it was naturally that way. It lay in erratic patterns, strands sticking in every odd direction. His cheeks looked so soft to the touch with a tinge of red, just enough to prove he was alive. Lips looked like delicate satin, causing her to lift her long finger to rub at her own lips. There must have been a time when hers were just as smooth, and when her own cheeks appeared to be so rosy. Eyes were closed, but she didn't need to see them to know they were exquisite, just like the rest of him. Light brown, or green. Yes, green would be perfect for him. Helena bit down on her lip, chewing at it. She raised her left hand, letting it just hover over his body. Inching it downward, she let the pads of her fingertips sweep across his forehead to brush at his hair. Ow! Retracting her hand, she stared at it. Electricity. Lots of electricity seemed to flow through her hand just like she had nerves. . . like she was alive. How could I feel that? She asked herself aloud, daringly reaching down to stroke his cheek. It was so unimaginably warm, sending waves of heat through her she hadn't felt in years. A single finger caressed his lips before lifting it to rub across hers again. Her eyes of lackluster closed, imagining a world when he could feel her touch him, too. Daniel. . . She whispered, feeling a glow burn within her heart that signified hope.