Status: Life is happening right now, but I will try to post.
Theophany
Chapter 8: WHY THEY CALL ME REAPER
A fist crashed across Reaper's face, marking it. Waking up, dazed, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, darkly lit. Then he remembered.
The two men, the same ones that had followed the Boss had dragged him from his quiet pillar and once again strapped him in this old, wooden chair. He could barely remember the feeling when he could freely move his body. As a consequence, everything ached. He had a pounding headache, and he could hear his breath rattling in his chest. The older man towered over him, solidly built in his 40's.
Another fist crashed across his face, whipping it the other way. Then a fist to the stomach and he tasted blood. His armor and clothes were gone, laid out in a corner of the room.
The man had a pocket knife and he scratched it across Reaper's bare thigh.
"Wonder what's taking them so long. I don't know whether to kill you or not." He emphasized his point by dragging the knife deeper, drawing blood and a wince from Reaper. Oh the things he did for the sake of recruiting people. This diplomacy tactic was not his favorite, but it was the best one this time.
The door across the room creaked open and another man, equally as menacing walked in. He had a scar across his face, crossing one eye permanently shut. He was shaved bald and was like a body builder from the old days. What struck Reaper the most though were the yellow teeth made into a necklace around his neck.
"Loon sent me," the scarred one said, in a voice that didn't quite fit his appearance, "This fucker's gonna be a part of my collection soon."
"Well, looks like I don't get to have fun this time. See you later..." the other guy said, "Or you know, not."
He shrugged and walked out of the room unfazed, as the tooth-necklaced guy came closer. Neither was new to torture it seems. Reaper was already trying to calculate his ways out of this situation. The man was bigger and heavier than him, had combat experience, and the door was about six and a half feet from where he sat, bound hand and foot. From what he could tell, the man had a hunting knife at his belt and a rifle across his back. The tooth necklace told him he was going to have his mouth open at one point, and the ragged edges of most of the teeth told him they were extracted most likely when they were struggling and alive. He willed himself to dull the pain from the last guy. This was different. Now he knew for certain that diplomacy had failed and he was about to be killed.
"I'ma fuck you up." the man said, grinning. And then, he took out rusty pliers from one of his pockets. He grabbed a fistful of Reaper's hair and yanked backwards, hard. In immediate response, Reaper spit a huge glob of saliva straight across his one good eye.
The man staggered backwards cursing and infuriated, but just then Reaper shifted all his body weight around, pivoting on one foot and whipped the wooden chair across the gorilla of a man's legs. He heard a sickening crunch as part of the chair broke, as well as the man's kneecap.
Wildly flailing and screaming now, he took out his hunting knife and reached for Reaper, who dodged and rolled away, untangling himself from broken wood and rope. Good. His knife was out. Reaper preferred sharp things. You didn't need to reload.
"GRAHH!" He roared, still in pain while his leg was twisted at an angle away from this body, bone sticking out of his bloody pants. He dropped the knife behind him, away from Reaper and was reaching for his rifle, realizing that he wouldn't be able to reach him with his blade before he bled out. So he wasn't too dumb then.
Reaper charged at him with blinding speed carrying a sharp wooden piece, splintered from the broken chair. In one swift motion, before the man could even feel the weight of his gun, the fist-sized piece of splinter was shoved into his eyeball, which squelched and burst under the force of his palm. He tried to push it in harder, but it just wasn't long enough to kill him.
There was a dull thud outside his door, almost inaudible in the middle of the man's continued screaming, so Reaper took the man's knife and sliced his throat. The screams quickly became gurgles and finally the man was silent.
The door was kicked open, and Reaper, knife in hand, bloody and naked whipped around just in time to see Rain point her pistol at him.
But it was Scope's voice, before he appeared next to Rain that yelled, "Reaper! Are you --"
The boy's face turned pale at the carnage and the blood and threw up on Rain's shoes.
The two men, the same ones that had followed the Boss had dragged him from his quiet pillar and once again strapped him in this old, wooden chair. He could barely remember the feeling when he could freely move his body. As a consequence, everything ached. He had a pounding headache, and he could hear his breath rattling in his chest. The older man towered over him, solidly built in his 40's.
Another fist crashed across his face, whipping it the other way. Then a fist to the stomach and he tasted blood. His armor and clothes were gone, laid out in a corner of the room.
The man had a pocket knife and he scratched it across Reaper's bare thigh.
"Wonder what's taking them so long. I don't know whether to kill you or not." He emphasized his point by dragging the knife deeper, drawing blood and a wince from Reaper. Oh the things he did for the sake of recruiting people. This diplomacy tactic was not his favorite, but it was the best one this time.
The door across the room creaked open and another man, equally as menacing walked in. He had a scar across his face, crossing one eye permanently shut. He was shaved bald and was like a body builder from the old days. What struck Reaper the most though were the yellow teeth made into a necklace around his neck.
"Loon sent me," the scarred one said, in a voice that didn't quite fit his appearance, "This fucker's gonna be a part of my collection soon."
"Well, looks like I don't get to have fun this time. See you later..." the other guy said, "Or you know, not."
He shrugged and walked out of the room unfazed, as the tooth-necklaced guy came closer. Neither was new to torture it seems. Reaper was already trying to calculate his ways out of this situation. The man was bigger and heavier than him, had combat experience, and the door was about six and a half feet from where he sat, bound hand and foot. From what he could tell, the man had a hunting knife at his belt and a rifle across his back. The tooth necklace told him he was going to have his mouth open at one point, and the ragged edges of most of the teeth told him they were extracted most likely when they were struggling and alive. He willed himself to dull the pain from the last guy. This was different. Now he knew for certain that diplomacy had failed and he was about to be killed.
"I'ma fuck you up." the man said, grinning. And then, he took out rusty pliers from one of his pockets. He grabbed a fistful of Reaper's hair and yanked backwards, hard. In immediate response, Reaper spit a huge glob of saliva straight across his one good eye.
The man staggered backwards cursing and infuriated, but just then Reaper shifted all his body weight around, pivoting on one foot and whipped the wooden chair across the gorilla of a man's legs. He heard a sickening crunch as part of the chair broke, as well as the man's kneecap.
Wildly flailing and screaming now, he took out his hunting knife and reached for Reaper, who dodged and rolled away, untangling himself from broken wood and rope. Good. His knife was out. Reaper preferred sharp things. You didn't need to reload.
"GRAHH!" He roared, still in pain while his leg was twisted at an angle away from this body, bone sticking out of his bloody pants. He dropped the knife behind him, away from Reaper and was reaching for his rifle, realizing that he wouldn't be able to reach him with his blade before he bled out. So he wasn't too dumb then.
Reaper charged at him with blinding speed carrying a sharp wooden piece, splintered from the broken chair. In one swift motion, before the man could even feel the weight of his gun, the fist-sized piece of splinter was shoved into his eyeball, which squelched and burst under the force of his palm. He tried to push it in harder, but it just wasn't long enough to kill him.
There was a dull thud outside his door, almost inaudible in the middle of the man's continued screaming, so Reaper took the man's knife and sliced his throat. The screams quickly became gurgles and finally the man was silent.
The door was kicked open, and Reaper, knife in hand, bloody and naked whipped around just in time to see Rain point her pistol at him.
But it was Scope's voice, before he appeared next to Rain that yelled, "Reaper! Are you --"
The boy's face turned pale at the carnage and the blood and threw up on Rain's shoes.