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Fiction » Fantasy » I Am The Grim Reaper font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Wolfkina
Fiction Rated: T - English - Horror/Supernatural - Reviews: 3 - Published: 07-21-05 - Updated: 07-21-05 - id:1967926
chapter 1. again, slightly revised.
“They’re just shadows,” he whispered to his stuffed animals, “Just shadows.”

He squeezed his eyes shut against the dark faces.

“Just shadows, are we?” a voice hissed. Salo chanced a peek, and immediately regretted it; a silhouetted skull leered at him from his ceiling and countless others swarmed around his bed. “Don’t be so sure. We’re watching you, little Salo. Whenever you turn out the light, we’ll be waiting.”

The boy woke from his nightmare to hear his sister’s voice in the next room.

“Yeah…Yeah, I’ll be there…” She was on the phone. “No one’ll know we left, I promise, Jon…Okay, I love you!...Bye!”

Salo rubbed the sleep from his eyes and the cold sweat from his brow, pulled his slippers on, and walked into Andeana’s room.

“What are you doing?” he asked. She had been putting on some pink platforms when he spoke, and for a moment, she looked like a deer in the headlights. She regained her composure a few seconds later though, and finished putting on her shoes. Salo watched as she ran to the dresser, pulling out handfuls of makeup from a top drawer.

“Salo, sweetie,” Andeana said as she hurriedly applied a thick layer of mascara, “Promise you won’t tell Mommy or Daddy that I left?”

“But where are you going?”

“Don’t go asking silly questions, just promise you won’t tell them.”

“But where are you going?” Salo asked with a stubborn whine. His sister clenched her teeth and sighed.

“Out with some friends, okay?” she said defensively, “That good enough for you?”

She sprayed her hair until it hung in greasy platinum ringlets and put on her coat. Before descending the stairs, Andeana hugged her little brother close.

“Bye, kiddo.”

She carefully skipped the stair that creaked, leaving Salo standing alone on the landing.

“Go back to bed, Say,” she said as she opened the front door and slipped out. “And don’t tell!”

The click of the lock had such a tone of finality that it sent a shiver down Salo’s spine.

“But who will protect me from the shadows now?” he whispered. His voice was small and barely there in the darkness that was slowly closing in on him. “Andeana!”

He ran after her.


“Jon!” she shrieked, “Stop! Let me go!”

“Stay still!” the man roared, slapping her face until it bled. “This is your own fault! You just had to fight it, didn’t you?”

Andeana tried in vain to push him off of her once more, but the blows just kept coming. Her tears mingled with the sweat and blood on her face, and she screamed. He hit her again.

“Shut up, you bitch!”

“You said you loved me,” she rasped.

“Who gives a damn what I said?! Now shut the hell up!”


Salo had no idea where he was going. As soon as he left his porch, his legs were in charge. They carried him down the street and out onto the main drag. With each sobbing breath, he whispered her name: “Andeana, Andeana, Andeana…”

Something was wrong, that much Salo knew. His sister had gone to late night parties before, but she had never insisted that he not tell their parents. And she was always back in the morning. This time, Salo was certain in the back of his mind that she wouldn’t come back. He didn’t hesitate as he left the neighborhood, even though he had never gone that far by himself. He passed gas stations and restaurants without really seeing them. A few people had tried to stop him and ask what was wrong, but he ignored them all. When the tears blurred his vision too badly, he stopped and wiped them away. Looking up, he realized that he had stopped in front of tall, bleak building with two burly men in suits standing in front of its dirty metal door. One of them looked down at him.

“Hey, kid,” he said, “What’re you doin’ here?”

“M- My sister,” Salo whispered and edged closer to the door.

“No minors allowed!” the other man growled, and shoved Salo back.

“He’s with me,” a smooth, baritone voice said from the shadows behind Salo. He looked up at a dark haired man with cold, black eyes. He wore a completely black tuxedo.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the first doorman insisted, “Even with an adult, there are no minors al-”

He gripped his chest and let out a strangled cry before dropping to the ground. The man’s companion was too shocked to react.

“Let us in or you’ll end up like him.”

The second man didn’t need to be told twice. Salo shivered as the black eyed man put a hand on his shoulder and ushered him through the door. The hand was as cold as his eyes.

“You say you’re looking for your sister?” the man said quietly, but Salo could still hear him over the thundering bass line of the music. He nodded.

“Her name is Andeana, correct?” the man asked.

Salo nodded, confused. Maybe the man was a friend of hers, so he knew her. But if he wasn’t…Salo knew he probably shouldn’t be telling his sister’s name to a stranger (and, no doubt, no one could have been stranger than this man), but he was too afraid to resist. The man pushed Salo through the thick crowd and glided along behind him. They stopped in front of a rusty door marked “STAIRS” with a picture of a stick figure running up a zigzag line.

“Go on.” The cold hand nudged Salo towards the door. Salo did as he was told and opened the door. The stairs were bathed in darkness with only a few flickering lights to illuminate each landing.

“The shadows,” Salo squeaked and heard the man laugh softly behind him. It wasn’t a kind laugh.

“Believe me, shadows wouldn’t dare show themselves before me.

They climbed the dark stairs for what seemed like hours. Salo was about to dutifully climb the next flight when the man pulled him back.

“Here,” he said. “Open the door, Salo.”

Salo did as he was told and didn’t ask how the man knew his name; he had the strange “something’s wrong” feeling again, and it was stronger than ever.

Inside the dark, bare room was a man Salo recognized as his sister’s boyfriend, Jon. He had been pacing worriedly back and forth when they came in, and now he stared at them, looking positively horrified.

“I- I didn’t mean to!” he blurted out, “She, she was just…just…And I…I tried to…It wasn’t my fault!”

Salo gazed at a dark lump on the floor and wondered what on earth Jon could be talking about. Suddenly, the black tuxedoed man flipped a light switch, and Salo found himself staring at the bloody, naked corpse of his sister. He cried out and fought back the urge to vomit. He tried to back away, but the dark man stood directly behind him, blocking his way. Taking a shaky breath, Salo hesitantly walked over to her, his slippers making a squelching noise as he stepped in the huge pool of blood around her. A knife lay on the ground some feet away from her, also covered in blood. Salo brushed his fingers against her forehead

“Andeana…?” he whispered, “Andeana.”

His whisper slowly built into an anguished cry. “Andeana! Andeana! Andeana!”

Ignoring the pungent blood, he fell to his knees and held her limp body close, screaming her name.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Jon protested again and backed into a corner. The cold man glared at him disdainfully.

“What a pathetic waste you are, Jon,” he spat.

“H- How’d you know my name…?”

“Raping a poor girl, stabbing her to death, then feigning innocence?” the man continued, disregarding Jon’s question. “You’re not fit to live, I’m afraid.”

With a swift, liquid motion of his hand, the man produced a large scythe that seemed to melt out of the air. “And I thought I only had one soul to retrieve tonight.”

He advanced upon a terrified Jon, but stopped abruptly, apparently thinking deeply on something. Keeping an eye on Jon, he called to Salo, “He killed your sister. I think it’s only right that you do the honors.”

Salo looked at him and gently set his sister down. He stood and walked numbly to the Reaper, holding his hands out expectantly. The dark man handed him the scythe and, before stepping back, said into his ear, “Show no mercy, Salo. He showed none for Andeana.”

People had always told Salo that he looked exactly like a little angel with his golden blond hair and crystal blue eyes, but in Jon’s last few seconds of life, Salo looked just as dark and cold and ominous as the Grim Reaper himself.


He stayed in his room for nine days and nights without eating or sleeping. Something was happening, he knew, something that didn’t require such trivial things. The doctors told his parents that he was in shock because of his sister’s death and gave them some medication for him to take. They never got into his room to give it to him, though, not even close.

“Salo,” his mother called gently up the stairs, “You’ve put it off long enough, you need to take your medicine.”

She got no reply. Sighing, she carried the pill and the glass of water up the staircase and to her son’s bedroom door. What had happened to her sweet little boy?

“Salo,” she sung lightly, knocking on the door. “C’mon Honey, it’s not that…bad…”

Salo’s eyes glided over to where she stood, and his gaze pierced straight through the wooden door and into the woman’s heart. With a dull thud, she dropped the glass and collapsed onto the floor. Pictures flooded into her mind that she didn’t even know she had. Pictures of shadows, corpses, blood. She reached out with a trembling hand to the banister and managed to pull herself down three stairs. Once she was on the fourth stair, the pictures faded, leaving her with a stark emptiness where they had been.

Burying her head in her arms, she sobbed, “What’s happened to you, Salo?!”

Salo didn’t like hurting his mother. But then again, he didn’t dislike it, either. It was simply something he had to do. The Scythe had told him this. Even though he couldn’t see it, he knew it was there, ready and waiting should he ever need it. It told him things while he slept, things that would have frightened him before…but now…

“Fear is not necessary,” the Scythe had told him the night after Andeana’s death. “The only reason why people are afraid is because of a natural instinct. They fear for their lives. They fear Death. But you, Salo, you are second only to Death. As long as you serve It, It will not harm you.”

Salo nodded. The Scythe was wise, the Scythe was always right.

“Do you know who you are, Salo?” The Scythe had asked.

Salo nodded again.

“I am the Grim Reaper.”



© Copyright 2005 Wolfkina (FictionPress ID:484307).


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