✁Day Zero- October 31st, 2018. Earth.
✄Salem
My list of targets I’m to escort into Paradise is a long one, and it never ends. Sometimes I wish I could be free of it, but to do that, I’d have to make a deal with a human after their death. Ordinarily it’s a deal they won’t be able to complete that way we get what we want.
I shake my small black feathered head and spread my wings, gently they tremble before I replace them against my slender sides. Calmly taking me out of my thoughts as the relaxing shivers of the stretch rush through my body. A small caw escapes my large raven beak as I stomp my bird toes on the branch I’m perched on, right next to the house that my next target is in.
As a Shinigami or Demon of Death, I have two forms. My human form and my animal form, not all of us have the same one. I’m a raven, the very first one at that. We also have special abilities that allow us to do our job accurately, but we also have rules to follow.
One of the rules states I’m not permitted to interfere with people’s fate. Once their name and time of death pops up in my journal, I have no choice but to collect their Soul- in no way shape or form am I allowed to save them. Even without the journal, I can see their death date above their heads. It’s an ability my Shinigami eyes give me, something I get tired of seeing.
Right now, as I peer in through the window to the cabin, its friend’s life ends at age 80 as long as nothing happens. While its time just dropped from a rather delicate white lettering of 83 years to a firm red flashing number of 25, with the time of death in less than half an hour.
My target: Soul 1313RVN0. Its name: Pandora Ashmore. Its age: twenty-five.
Every Soul has an identification number, I too have one: RVN0. RVN: The Shinigami over the soul is a raven shifter. 0: That’s the order in which that Shinigami was created.
Take Sebastian, the second Shinigami ever created, he turns into a fox. So his identification number would be FOX1. In my case, it’s different, I’m the first Shinigami my King ever made and the only raven. I was the prototype, which is why my number is zero instead of something else.
The numbers are how we organize which Shinigami gets what Soul. Otherwise, we would be overwhelmed. Our number follows behind our charges Soul identification number, so we know who belongs to who. After all, people can have the same names, death dates, and so forth.
Decades ago, a few hundred years after I was first created- I messed up with one of my charges. Royally. The very reason I’m referred to as a prototype. I learned, and I started having these human emotions- thanks to that charge. The real reason we have rules in place, to avoid things like that happening again.
I flinch at the memory, something I want to keep hidden. I just want to get her Soul and guide her to where she’s supposed to be and leave it at that. I can’t afford another mess up.
“Caw,” I call out as I beat my wings while shaking my head, clearing my mind of these old thoughts.
Thanks to my heightened hearing, I can hear everything going on in there if I so choose to. The thing is- I don’t have any interest in it. After all, in this lifetime, she’s getting married. I’m not wanting to hear anything about those details.
Ba-bam! A loud slamming noise reverberates through the air, almost as if a door has been slammed open. With my hearing focused, I can hear a woman hysterically crying, claiming my attention toward the three characters inside the cabin.
I stare at the names listed above each person’s head; again thanks to my Shinigami eyes. They read Ava, Pandora, and someone who flashes between two names- Isabella and Mirin. The name flashing normally means that they changed their name. I don’t have access to that as the type of supernatural I am, so it’s none of my concern.
“James!” I hear a loud scream boom through the air. I wasn’t paying attention, and now my target is halfway across the clearing, approaching the human named James- his back turned toward her. I propel myself off of my tree, and fly overhead of them, circling above as I keep an observant eye.
They stand a few feet away from a vibrant gothic style wedding arch and a few chairs. Down the middle of the arch and through a big row of classic wooden chairs, lies a vibrant velvet walkway rug. Black rose petals already scatter the ground in decoration, a very grand scene.
“Pandora? What are you doing out here?” James questions her as he turns around slowly, quickly his facial expression changes from one of happiness to one of concern, or perhaps sadness. I can never tell between those two human emotions, nor do I try- I have no reason to. “You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in the dress before the wedding!” he shouts, a small, unfamiliar emotion rushes through the pit of my stomach as he raises his voice. Almost as quickly as it came, it vanished.
Pandora doesn’t flinch an inch at his remark, instead, her tears continue to fall down her face. “What the fuck is this?” she roars as she holds a phone with an elaborate girlish flowering pattern out in front of her with her right hand, her nails painted black. Her black dress flows behind her as the wind starts to gust in the direction of the forest directly behind her.
I continue to circle silently above, gently beating my wings as I feel the wind flow through them. “A phone?” James asks with his tone somewhat in a mocking manner. Something I learned humans do a lot of.
Her reaction was instant, violently she slams the phone into his hands, her body shaking as she pulls away. “No, what’s on the phone.”
I tune them out, no longer interested in their human conversation. This is precisely why I enjoy living as an emotionless being.
Closing my wings against my body, I gracefully fall to the gothic arch and perch right in the center. Watching, but not listening to my target. Whatever is going to happen, will happen soon.
With a front-row seat, I watch as my target grabs at something on her finger and forcefully flings the object at his chest. The man falls to the ground on his hands and knees as a loud undistinguishable scream escaping his body. Quickly he begins running his fingers through the grass, almost as if he’s searching for some object. Frantically he looks to the ground and back toward the woman sprinting off toward the forest.
I flap my wings, preparing for flight, as I watch the human slam his left fist angrily down on the ground. Quickly I zoom off after my target, flying between tree branches and fall colored leaves. Something I’ve become a professional at. I observe her time clock ticking down violently in red, the only reason I can see her through the vast tree leaves. 10 minutes and 21 seconds.
The darkened sky abruptly ignites with a yellowish light, a loud rumbling sound rushes through the vast forest. Quickly cold wet droplets begin to beat against my feathers, making them heavy. I feel my heart race as it beats working harder as I attempt to continue my flight. My wings now weigh me down almost like liquid concrete, I heave a sigh as I swoosh down to the ground. There’s no way I’m going to fly in this weather.
Regardless I still need to follow my target. I run behind her as fast as my small legs will take me, following her every move. Exposed roots from trees stick viciously through the ground, almost like something out of a horror film- they beg to trip an unsuspecting victim. Tree branches and fallen leaves litter the now soaked ground, creating a further horrendous terrain.
My target easily avoids them, but I have to jump on the tree roots and to the mushy ground as I follow along. In my bird form I struggle to get over the vast objects- I almost chuckle at the idea of my bird form hopping from tree root to the ground. Yet another human emotion I acquired, one I’m not angry to have.
She slows down to a leisurely walk as her time continues to tick abruptly: 8 minutes and 40 seconds. The rain beats against her clothing, her hair barely has any dry spots. Her black vibrant dress has collected mud and earthy debris along the large portion that drags against the ground.
She comes to a complete stop as I hop off another tree root, landing on the mushy ground. I can feel the wet earth between my toes, something that I find quite pleasing. Before us, as we’re surrounded by a vast forest, a large oak tree lays against the ground, struck down by lightning. Char marks litter against the portion it separated from its trunk, nearly a quarter of the way down the tree. The stump rests a few feet away, further into the forest.
With a loud sigh, she heaves herself on the perfect forest seat- the fallen tree. She bends over placing her elbows on her knees, shaking as her chest heaves with violent sobs. She places her head in her hands with her elbows still on her knees, visibly shaken from whatever it is she experienced before she rushed away. The rain continues to pour down on us, her hair and clothing now drenched and clinging to her body. I can hear as she sniffles silently, even though the continuous storm screams around us.
She trembles violently as she wraps her arms around her body, clearly cold- something humans tend to get. “Gahh!” She groans loudly. The sudden noise throws me out of my thoughts, startling me, so I leap backward slightly. I feel a small twig under my foot, and before I can regain my balance, I feel it give way underneath me.
Snap! The small twig splinters in half. Sna- I quickly remove my weight from it as I hop forward, stopping another break halfway through.
“Hello?” She questions into the darkness staring right at me, holding herself tighter as she shivers violently. I look at my target for the first time, and it sends a chill up my spine. She looks exactly like her.
′Shit,′ I think to myself. Great going Salem you fucking clutz, now she knows you’re here. Quick! Do something. . . bird-like, yea, bird-like.
“Caaaw!” I bleat as plainly as possible, staring at her, I realize the time above her head pulses with anger: 4 minutes and 23 seconds.
A familiar and scary feeling rushes through my body- dread. She isn’t her. They only look alike.
Pain rushes through my heart at the thought of letting the target die since she looks so much like her. Fuck it! I flap my large wings warning her to run, maybe she’ll make it. ”Caw!” I scream, vocalizing my warning.
Sna-aap! A loud twig snaps behind me, blocking her exit. It’s too late. I watch with a heavy heart as she jolts to her feet, almost digging her heels into the moist dirt. With a brisk walk, she starts walking in the opposite direction, a hooded figure rushing past me.
Snap! The hooded figure jumps slightly as they step blindly on a large branch with the back of their heel. The loud noise causes my target to look over her right shoulder, her eyes grow wide as the color drains from her already pale face.
Quickly I drum my wings and take flight rushing above her. ”Ru-u-un,” I crow as humanly as possible.
Boom! Shkt! Lightning lights the area up as thunder follows, causing her eyes to grow wide in horror. “Help!” A hoarse cry escapes her throat as she sprints off further into the forest, sobs escaping her as she flees.
She jumps over a fallen tree, its roots exposed wildly, her black dress scooting across it like a train. Halfway across, it snags. I watch as she tugs with both her arms, trying to get it unstuck, whimpers leaving her body as she tries. Crack! The root gives way as I spot her sailing backward, causing her to lose her balance. She thuds to the muddy ground and howls in pain as a sickening bone breaking noise thunders along with the storm.
She shoves the dress away from her ankle, exposing her pale white ankle. It sits at an inhuman angle, even for me. The back of the leg lies flat against the ground as her foot slumps over to the left side against the ground. Vibrant red blood oozes out of a large open gash where her bone protrudes out of right where her ankle should be.
Pitifully I watch as she drags herself away from the attacker, her counter ticking down violently as she slams her back against the tree with a muffled thud. 1 minute and 13 seconds.
“What do you want from me!” she whispers with panic apparent in her shaky voice. Her time is ticking, and she doesn’t have time for this!
"Caaw! Caaw!” I screech, trying to get her to move. I’m fucking up, it’s against the rules to even try and help them. Yet she looks so much like her that I have to, even though I know she’s not going to make it. I’m a damn supernatural that tracks death- but I can hope. Hope: a nasty word and emotion that she taught me. I curse the fact that the target resembles her so much.
Tears stream down her face. “What do you want from me! If it’s money you want, my fiance has tons of it. He can help you, just please don’t kill me!” She shrieks, begging for her life as small hiccups erupt from her stress-filled body.
I watch as the killer moves toward her, their confidence clear in their stride. As they reach the end of her legs, they bend over and shake the knife in their left hand. My target’s time flashes like a heartbeat: 37 seconds. I’m sure if it had a sound, it would be sirens shouting violently.
Briskly and effortlessly, they lung forward as a scream pierces my ears. Over and over, they pound against her chest, my target gargles for breath in an attempt to breathe as the seconds tick down. Six, five, four- three. With one final thud, they briskly run off with their knife in hand as her timer hits zero.
~
I sit beside her tattered body, waiting for her to come to. Her body slumped over a few moments after her life left her body. Blood pools under her mixing with the already muddy ground from the wound on her chest, trickling down her carcass. Her hair is soaked and matted with mud. The dress is a dirty mess with a tear reaching from the bottom of the dress to her black lacy panties. Her chest is nearly exposed from all the knife wounds, but instead of bare skin, it’s a blood soaked mess.
She materializes out of thin air standing, not too far from her body, her blue-black hair is dry and reaches down to her ass. Her bright amber eyes are dimmed by the new look of death written all over her face. Her once already pale skin is now deathly pale. Her black dress is like brand new, with no impurities similar to the one on her dead body.
Her eyes are curious and confused as to where she is. She looks around her surroundings and lays her eyes on me, sending a chill up my bird spine. With sad filled eyes, she sits down on the opposite side of her body, giving me a window to scamper behind the tree.
I hear as she begins to sob loudly, almost as if she has hit rock bottom.
I will myself to become my humanoid form. My frail bird bones snap loudly, as they begin to grow and shape into larger versions. They sink into place as they form my human limbs. The discomfort is only a pinch since we don’t feel pain. To a human, I’m sure it would be agonizing. My large black feathered wings sprout behind me as I stretch their cramped muscles. Thankfully my clothes appear as I shift and conform to my body, allowing my wings to breathe freely from the fabric.
I step out behind the tree, leaning my shoulder against it as I lay my eyes on the woman laying with her head on her knees. “There was nothing you could do,” I state.
Her crying stops as she looks around frantically, trying to figure out who was talking. “Who- who’s there?” She squeaks in a strained voice.
“Salem is the name I was given,” I answer, shrugging my right burly shoulder that’s not against the tree.
“Why are you here?” She questions with fear radiating off her.
I twitch my wings slightly, I hate talking to this woman- she looks so much like her. Fear flashes across her face as she scurries to cover her dead carcass.
That’s cute, she’s trying to cover her dead body with her see-through one. “I can see through you,” I say as I get off the tree and shrug my shoulders. “I’m not interested in that. I’m here to guide you to Paradise.”
She sits up as she thinks for a moment. “So- you’re an angel of death?” she questions.
“Not quite,” I chuckle at the thought of being an angel. I’m far from it- if I was an angel, I’d be a fallen one. “I’m a Shinigami, or as some refer to us: Demon of Death.”
Concern flashes across her face as she twirls the ends of her hair. “Well, that doesn’t sound any better,” she groans.
I let out a loud sigh, why is she so talkative? It’s quite annoying. “I’m the kinder version of the Grim Reaper, be glad I’m the one watching over you and not that asshole. That’s how you know you fucked up in life.”
That’s the truth. There are two types of death supernaturals, Shinigamis and Grim Reapers. Shinigamis take their time and walk their targets through to Paradise. Seth the king of the Shinigamis is a god, one that civilizations prayed to- the realm of the blessed dead.
Hel is the leader of the Reapers. She’s ruthless, she created her underlings from bones and souls of the dead. Their dead skeletons roam around collecting souls that have murdered or done immense harm against each other. They don’t go about it easy either if you don’t follow them willingly, they use their scythe laced with her blood and forcibly claim your soul. Her blood is a vial poison one drop is big potent enough to kill a giant.
“Then why are you called a Demon?” she questions, tilting her head slightly.
Our king had received a lot of ridicule from the human race. They smudged his name, but some of it is true. If a human was to dig far enough, they would find the history of Seth making deals with humans after death- but the human side of the deals always failed. Eventually, we became known as Demons of Death. Beings that prayed on the souls of the dead by offering things they could never achieve in return for their soul. Half of what they don’t know is that we don’t have to make deals.
“Because we can make deals with the dead, kind of like a death demon,” I shrug once again. Something I’ve been doing this entire time- I hate being a human.
“I guess that makes sense,” she says as she trails off, backing away slightly.
Does she think I want to make a deal? I don’t want to, not with her, she’ll be stuck beside me until the deal is completed. Yet, I could be free from this. If I make a deal and have her replace me, perhaps Seth would honor the agreement. There’s only one way to find out, and that’s to try.
“Look, I’ve never made a deal in my life. It’s too much of a hassle, but I want to be free from this life. So I have an idea, make a deal with me, and you’ll be able to go back to your life,” I state monotonously.
Relief floods across her face as light returns to her depressed appearance. “I’ll do it,” she whispers.
Taken aback by her quick response, I scowl slightly. “Are you sure? You don’t even know what the conditions are.”
She shakes her head and smiles slightly, causing a familiar emotion to flutter in my chest- one I quickly shut down. “If it means I can go back, then yes, I’ll do it.”
“Alright.”
“Soo- what do I need to do?” she questions, turning away slightly, avoiding my gaze.
I could make the deal here, but even if I do, I’ll still have to go in front of my king to get the deal approved. Perhaps I should just try and make the deal hard so she’ll give up. That way I can take her to Paradise.
I brush my medium length hair behind my ear as I stand straight up, towering over her. I watch as intimidation flashes across her face. “We go over our deal here before you decide what to do. Then if you decide to go along with it, I take you to my leader to get the deal approved.”
“What’s the deal?” she questions as she starts biting her nails slightly. Her ghost-like appearance flashing from nervousness.
“You figure out who murdered you, within thirteen days, you can have a second chance at life. If you don’t, you take my place as a Shinigami,” I say as I cross my arms, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right.
She scowls, pursing her lips together. A reaction I hoped for, maybe she’ll deny it and let me get rid of her. “Any more details?” She questions, her eyes wide.
My heart drops at her question. I don’t suppose she’s thinking about backing down from this. “The rest is for my king to decide,” I say, shrugging.
She stands up and dusts her ass off, although she had no reason to. In her current form, nothing from the human world can cling or hurt her. “Where is he, and exactly how do we get there?”
I raise my eyebrow in amusement, she’s almost like her. Strong-willed and very chatty. “Easy,” I grumble as I snap with my right middle finger and thumb. A large dark galaxy-like portal pops up, a door to my realm. The Underworld.
“How’d you do that!” she exclaims with her jaw dropping to the floor.
“Magick,” I state, grinning wildly. Another perk of being a product of a god, even though it has its limitations- we are magick. Mine’s somewhat stronger and different from the rest of the Shinigami’s, but that’s not something she needs to know.
“Sweet,” she gushes, almost bouncing with excitement.
“Take my hand,” I say as I extend my right hand out toward her as I face the portal.
If I don’t have contact with her going through the portal, it’s hard telling who or what she would run into from my world. A human Soul alone, probably wouldn’t fare so well down there. A few gangs run around using lost Souls as their own personal high. After all, pure Souls can be siphoned for steam: the very essence that makes them- well them. It’s a very powerful drug to supernaturals. Werewolves, witches, vampires, angels, demons- every single one of us.
I watch as she backs away slightly, holding her arms close to her chest. She grasps tightly around her left wrist with her right hand, her small petite wrist is engulfed by her small delicate hands. “Why?” she squeaks.
“Look, Pandora- if I let you go through that portal and you get lost, you might as well kiss your second chance at life goodbye,” I growl, annoyed.
“How’d you know my name?” she asks, stepping back further.
I pull my hand back from offering it and instead rub it down my face as I groan in disdain. “I’m a supernatural that deals with death. What part of that isn’t clear?” I ask as I rub my hand through my hair. “Look, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will happen to you as long as you listen to me. Just grab my hand and follow me through the damn portal will you?” I offer my hand back out once again, and wiggle my fingers, motioning her forward.
Her face falls instantly, as she drops her arms to her side. I seem to have hurt her feelings, but at this point, I don’t give a damn. I just want to get this over with and plop her onto someone else, because there is no way in hell Seth will put her under my wing if she accepts the contract.
“Fine,” she states looking down at her feet as she gently kicks her right one against the muddy ground. She takes a few steps forward and places her hand in mine, a very warm feeling even though she’s dead.
“Thank you,” I state as I nod my head. “Follow me and do not- I can not stress this enough, do not talk to anyone.”
I walk in front of her as I feel her body flinch at my words. It’s not my fault I’m so cold. I mean- I did try to save her. Now I just want her out of my hair, I don’t imagine having someone who resembles her close to me would be a good idea.
Slowly I take a step through the portal, holding her hand and making sure not to lose her. A loud ringing sound pops my ears as a tugging sensation pulls against my clothing, a normal sensation for going through the portal. It is, after all, a few dimensions away.
