Reaper

“Charlie, it’s 5. Aren’t you supposed to be at work at 6?” Fitch asked, looking down at me.

I sat upright on the couch, cradling my head. I looked around – Fitch and I had been watching a documentary, I must have passed out on his lap. I checked my phone which had been lying on the coffee table. Sure enough, it was 5:02PM.

“Shit,” I hissed, launching myself off the couch. “If I’m late again, I’m fired.”

I hurried off into my bedroom to pull on my work clothes – a white button-up and a black tailored skirt. As I changed, I heard Fitch turn off the television and get up, walking up to my door.

“What do you mean, ‘Again’?” I could hear the laughter in his voice.

I lost my balance trying to put on my skirt. I huffed, pulling myself off the carpet. “I may or may not have been late yesterday…”

Fitch snickered. “Charlie-“

“I know, I know, someday I’ll figure out how to keep time, okay?” I opened the door and came face-to-face with his chin. I looked up at him, annoyed. “But for now, you’re in my way.”

He moved out of the way in a flourish, gesturing to the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my purse and my phone. I checked the time again – 5:10. It took me 15 minutes to get to the subway station, 10 minutes to ride, and another 20 to walk to the bar. I should make it in time, if I hurried. If I caught the right train.

Just as I hurried out the door, I heard Fitch say, “Keys!”

I checked my purse and cursed under my breath. I turned around, and sure enough, he was holding my keys above his head tauntingly. I groaned and jumped to grab them from him. “How did you know?”

“It’s my job,” he replied, shrugging. He looked me in the eyes then, suddenly serious. “But, really, Charlie. Be… Be safe, okay?”

The look of concern on his face made my heart warm just a little bit. Fitch had always been there to be the overprotective older brother I never wanted, but it was nice to feel looked after every once in a while, especially in a city full of people I was too frightened to talk to. He gave me a reason to want to know more people – a security blanket. I flashed him a smile and nodded.

As I headed through the streets toward the subway station, I was relatively alone with my thoughts. Kids sat on the steps of different buildings, doing what kids normally do. People bustled about, carrying groceries or babies or small dogs or whatever else they deemed worthy of toting around. I passed by a homeless woman pushing a shopping cart full of her possessions. Yet I spoke to none of these people, and none of them spoke to me.

Each time I turned a corner, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Despite the subway attack having occurred a week ago, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong with my life. I hadn’t told anyone I knew about the attack – they knew what the news told them, that there was a suspected serial killer on the loose and that was as far as it went. I knew that Mandi would want to know everything I knew, and then promptly wouldn’t let me out of the house for a week because of it. I decided that not telling anyone was the best idea. But since that night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching me.

I missed the days where I felt alone.

I approached the station, which had by now been cleared of all things crime scene and restored to working order. People milled about, but they didn’t stay long, probably for fear of a repeat of what had happened a week before. I can honestly say I didn’t blame them, but I didn’t have enough money for a taxi to take me all the way to the bar, and it was too far to walk. I checked my phone: 5:29.

I needed to catch the 5:30 train.

I took off in a hurry, elbowing my way past an angry group of people who had obviously come back from a long day of work. I felt my heart beat faster, nervous that I’d miss my damn train again. I was angry with myself for not checking the time sooner, angry with people on the street, angry with the tellers who took too long selling me my ticket, angry –

And just as I reached the platform, the train pulled away, speeding off into the dark.

“Dammit!” I hissed, stomping my foot on the ground. I let out a breath and ran my hand through my hair, thankful that I had at least brushed it at some point today. I let out a noise of frustration.

Suddenly, a hand took hold of my bicep.

I let out a startled yelp and neatly jumped a foot in the air. With my heart in my throat, I whirled around to see who had touched me. I froze, every muscle in my body paralyzed with… I’m not sure I would call it fear; with shock.

“It’s you,” I breathed, nose-to-nose with none other than the man who had been on my mind for an entire week. Sawyer.

He set his jaw as I stared at him. He looked angry, but at the same time I could see the concern on his face. It was the first time I’d had any contact with him since I had found his second note. No doubt, he had completely forgotten about me by then, right?

He blinked, a little taken aback. “I need to speak with you,” he said gruffly, his emerald eyes twinkling ever so slightly at my surprise.

A million thoughts passed through my brain, and yet I couldn’t hold onto most of them long enough to form into words. Was he going to explain what happened on the subway? Was it even him? Why did he write the note? Why did he save Jesse? What was he?

“I’m going to be late for work,” I blurted stupidly. I wanted to kick myself.

He looked amused. “I will talk to Troy myself. He owes me a favor.” I gaped at him, incredulous. “We go way back,” he assured me.

I bit my lip nervously. “I really should be going-“

“Please, Charlotte, this is more important than you know.”

The sincerity in his voice was impossible to ignore. I could hear the concern, the restraint in his tone. I bit my lip again and looked at the platform where no train would arrive for another fifteen minutes. I looked back to Sawyer again, trying to make up my mind, before looking back to the train again.

He squeezed my bicep gently to get my attention. He simply raised his eyebrows as if to say, ‘Well?’.

I nodded slightly and let him lead me away from the platform, away from the crowd of people who had gathered there for the next train. Sawyer weaved among them expertly, careful to contact as few people as possible. I remember thinking vaguely that I wished I could do that, sneak through a crowd of people unnoticed and silent.

He led me to an emergency exit. I nervously followed behind him, worried some alarm or another might be triggered, but nothing happened. We climbed up half a flight of stairs under a dimly lit fluorescent light bulb. I was careful not to touch anything unless absolutely necessary. I stood in the corner of the landing, crossing my arms over my chest, biting my lip, and trying not to crumble into a ball of nervousness under his gaze.

He was silent for a moment. “Have you told anyone about what you saw?”

I didn’t have to ask for clarification. We both knew what he meant. “No,” I responded quietly, barely audible, even to myself.

I was terrified of him. As much as he intrigued me with all of the questions he provoked, I couldn’t shake the image of him lifting me up by the throat with one hand. Of him shoving me against the wall. Of his eyes… glowing, in the dark. And I couldn’t ever forget that.

Sawyer seemed surprised. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Well, good. Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone.” He looked at my face then, noticing that I wasn’t completely convinced.

Suddenly, his hands were reaching out to me. I watched, wide-eyed, as his large hands stretched to my face, cupping my chin. I stared up at him, a little bit awe-struck and speechless. His emerald eyes stared into mine, and I felt weak in the knees a little. I felt blood rush to my cheeks, my skin tingling where his touched it.

When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I need you to understand, Charlotte. You cannot. Tell. Anyone.” The desperation in his voice was apparent.

I merely nodded, unable to understand why it was so important that I keep my mouth shut, but too afraid to ask. I’d just continue the way I was going about – keeping a secret that I didn’t understand.

With that, he let go of my face. My skin was suddenly cold, a strange feeling of emptiness replaced the tingling feeling. I wrapped my arms tighter around my waist, suddenly feeling cold all over. Sawyer continued to stare at me, and then ran a hand through his hair. He sensed something.

“This bothers you.”

Well, duh.

He exhaled loudly. I couldn’t really do much except watch him – my body was frozen, unable to really process anything while Sawyer was around. He was so… distracting.

He looked at his watch, checking the time. “You should probably get going,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair again. He began to head down the staircase, expecting me to follow. When I didn’t, he looked back over his shoulder, expectant.

I bit my lip.

“What are you?”

My words hung in the air, a curse spoken to ruin the peaceful silence. It was something that weighed on my mind, something that had come out of my mouth before I even knew to stop it. But it had to be said.

Sawyer froze, staring at the ground. When he looked up, his face was pained, almost sad.

“I’d tell you, but you’d never want to see me again.”

I stared into his eyes for a moment. “You’re not human.” It was said shakily, but it wasn’t a question. I knew now – I had known for a while – that this much was true. I just wish I had as much confidence as I imagined it in my head.

He paused for a few moments, unsure of what to say. What he did say made my heart break for him, just a little bit.

“No. I’m your worst nightmare.”