Reaper: Tragedy of the Mediator

Prelude


Tell me, Grom...what was it like?

What was what like?

To be called a failed attempt...to be discarded....to be thrown away because you came out not quite the way someone expected you to be...

Ha...that's hilarious. I can't really say what it felt like. After all, I feel no regret, or sorrow, or guilt...

Still, I can't imagine the pain anyone else would have gone through...you're very strong.

Is it really strength, or just a lack of humanity? After all, you're way above all this. Even when I reap you one day, you're still different. Your death...its something that is supposed to free the rest of them. But from what? Sin? There will always be sin and there will always be death. That is why I exist.

You're depressing outlook on life is understandable. But, I think I grasp where you're coming from the most. He tried to make you perfect, and nearly succeeded. But, the fact that they are imperfect is what makes them perfect. After all, I am one of them.

You're nothing but a lamb to them. If I could, I would pity you.

Pity...another human concept that I understand. But you see, the fact that you said that means something.

What?

You're human too, Grom. You just don't want to accept it.

As Grom looked out to the high, gothic towers of Dogma City, he couldn't help but think to himself how much Man confounded him. He lacked almost every human emotion, and yet curiosity was the one thing that plagued him. How could He, his Maker, love such a weak-willed race? They were said to be made in His image, so why were they so powerless? Why did they need him, or Gregor, or Geo, or Giles? A question that had been troubling him for many centuries. He stood from his perch atop one of the many gargoyles that decorated the First Cathedral of Celestial Light, where Abraham sent him. He was lean and toned, with skin as black as pitch and eyes that burned like scarlet coals. His skin was decorated with white bones, making him appear as a walking skeleton. He wore a torn black cloak and no shirt that remained open, with baggy black pants and no shoes. Covering his snow white, shaggy hair was a black hood that only allowed for the white skull on his face and his scarlet eyes to be visible. Wrapped around his back was a long spine with a snake's head biting the tail to connect the loop on the front of his chest.

"Come, Serpent....we have work to do. Baal and Uriel will be meeting in the alley below us any minute now."

The spine began to creak and a deep hiss echoed out from the snake skull. Suddenly, two red orbs ignited in the skull's eye sockets and a long, wicked blade shot out from the back of the skull. The skull let go of its tail and began to uncoil itself from around Grom's back. Grom held his hand out as the serpent skeleton's tail slit neatly into his hand. it then whipped around and rested its head near Grom's shoulder, hissing softly.

"Hssss....you're a sssslave driver, you know that, Reaper?"

"And you are already dead. You don't get an opinion on my orders."

"Hssss! Frosssty! Seems like the air isn't the only thing cold tonight!"

Grom then flicked the tail like a whip, and the serpent straightened out and became stiff. Now, it was more than just a skeleton. It was the tool used by Death himself to harvest the dead. The Scythe of the First Death. "Balance is neither cold nor warm. Balance is balance." Grom spins Serpent in his hand and leaps off the gargoyle, free falling story after story. Finally, he looks at a billboard and whips Serpent at it. The spine extends and Serpent's mouth opens, grabbing the billboard in its jaws. Grom then pulled, and the scythe yanked him through the air at incredible speeds as Grom jumped from rooftop to fire exit to sign, flying through the air towards the meeting place where the demon Baal and the Arch Angel Uriel were supposed to be meeting each other. It was yet another throw down between Baal and his Fury Demons and Uriel and his Choir of Battle. He knew things would get messy, especially since he had already put Baal down twice this week and Uriel had always had a bone to pick with him. But, as a Rider and as Death, he was willing to do what he needed to do, even if it meant putting down a Demon Commander and an Arch Angel at the same time...


At Malcolm's Karaoke bar, 18 year old Mai Sendo, daughter of Kai Sendo, owner of SendoCorp, the largest technological conglomerate on Earth, was partying with her friends Ryan, Mark, Layla, and Rachel. Mai was a girl of average height, with a slender build, flat features, medium-length dark hair, and pale, fair skin. She had green eyes that guys said shimmered like a calm, beautiful lake. Tonight, she was wearing a black tanktop with a denim jacket, a plaid skirt, black kneesocks, and red Converse shoes. It was the evening after the end of the Midterms at Mai's high school, and they were celebrating that their weeks of hard studying had finally paid off. They sang song after song, drank drink after drink, and ate dish after dish as they continued to party. As Mai sat down at the table, tired after dancing and singing seven songs straight, she took a drink from her green tea she had ordered and began talking with Mark.

"So, Mai, I hear your dad's company made some kind of huge deal with Eden Industries. I hear you guys are gonna be making even more cash than before!"

Mai sipped her tea and nodded. "Yep! Dad said Mr. Eden was very anxious to close the deal on my father's new Hydroponic Growth Accelerator. It'll really help Eden's Farming division."

Suddenly, the doors to the bar opened. Standing there was a tall man with beet-red skin, a black frame beard, and smoldering black eyes. He was wearing a white zoot suit, complete with cane and matching fedora. Behind him were a group of men with similar complexions, each one wearing a black suit and tie with sunglasses. However, each one had different features, such as horns, fins, fangs, one even had spikes covering his face. The man in white tapped his cane on the floor and started strutting in, as if he owned the bar. He smiled at the various patrons in the bar, most of them female, and finally stopped at the bar, right between two stools. He then bounced his cane off the ground, caught it, spun it in his hand, and leaned back against the bar, his back to the bartender. He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out four coins, each of which were being held between his fingers. He tapped the coins on the bar and whistled to the barkeep, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. The man's voice was smooth, tempting, and charming, yet its tone felt as if he had underlying motives.

"Evening, Keep. Five rounds, for myself and my boys, ya dig?"

The bartender looked at the coins shrewdly. "You only got four Perditions there, bub. A drink is one Paradise, Perdition, or three dollars. You can only get four with what you got."

The man chuckled loudly, as if the bartender had told a joke. "And who says Bartenders ain't funny anymore? That's rich, cat. I don't pay for my drinks. See, I got pull with Down Low, you feel?"

The bartender immediately reached for something under the bar. "A Demon, eh? Don't get much of your kind around this part of town...You here to start trouble?"

The man, now identified as a Demon, look at the barkeep and flicked up his fedora, so he could look the keep in the eye. "Brother, trouble is my middle name. Now, drinks. I don't like repeating myself, pal."

Mai could see that something was about to happen. She reached over for Mark's sleeve and pulled on it lightly so as to not draw attention. When Mark looked over at her, she whispered. "We should leave...I don't like this..."

Just then, the barkeep pulled out a double-barreled shotgun and pointed it right between the Demon's eyes. "I don't give out free drinks. Especially not to some fire-spitting Satan spawn!"

The entire bar went quiet. The demon's face was blank, almost like he had no emotion towards what was said. He then let out a long sigh, hanging his head low with what seemed to be disappointment. "I see...so that's how its gonna be, jack? I'm down..." The demon then looked up quickly, a wicked grin on his face as his threw the coin between his thumb and index finger. The coin made a metallic whine, like a freshly drawn blade, and the bartender went stiff. After a few seconds, blood began dripping from his forehead as what had happened became apparent. The Demon had thrown the coin through the bartender's head, and was now stuck, bloody, in the back wall. The bartender's eyes rolled back and he dropped to the floor, dead. The demon and his underlings all laughed, while the humans in the room all screamed. "Come on, boys! Drinks are on the house! And take a human or two, my treat!"