08-19-2013, 02:17 PM
There came a light knock at the door, and there was the sense that the one that stood without was full of amused impatience; the visitor knew of the power of those within and, though powerful himself, did not wish to intrude without permission- unless they made him wait any longer than half a minute, of course. Then he'd do whatever the Hel.l he'd like to.
And, at that moment, he wanted to investigate the very distinct scent of a being as closely tied to Serpents as he himself was.
Hospitals. Burning the nostrils with the scents of strong cleaners and stale breath. Bleached blinding white, and where the very walls seemed to bleed hopelessness for those within.
The halls were full of bereft families and rushing nurses and doctors. Drifting aimlessly among them was a man cloaked in night, standing near eight feet. But the people around seemed to not notice him- which was good for them, really.
Because you can only see a Reaper when he's coming for your soul.
This particular Reaper wandered the halls toward his next target, humming, of all thing, "Another One Bites the Dust". But, unlike usual, the tune had none of the heart put into it.
He made his way into room 49 on the first floor, where an elderly woman dozed lightly. A pale, slender hand reached out from under the cloak and touched her forehead, and the light of her soul leaked out. Suddenly, the woman stood beside him, eyes looking up.
"I didn't get to say goodbye," she said.
He couldn't be sure what she saw; everyone saw something different. But, given her mild reaction, it was something pleasant. So he smiled. "No one does, my dear."
He helped her into the light, as she was going up and not down, and sighed. He checked her off the list and ran a hand through his wild mane of blood-red curls. Once, many years ago, he had loved his job.
But for the last several centuries it hadn't been the same; pretty hard to when you knew that your children and your closest friend were locked away for eternity.