Reaper is a coming
A man about six feet tall dressed in a ragged black suit and pink striped shirt beneath lugged a large wooden coffin behind him on a single knotted string laced between his fingers.
His hair semi-long dirty blonde hair was tied back into a small ponytail, he hummed a tune repeatedly. People became spooked as he walked by with the funeral march on his tongue, when he opened his mouth to grin he showed off very sharp teeth nearly pale yellow.
The tiny town nearly at sunset glared against the faded red bricks of the aging town and its buildings. He kicked up dirt from the dry heat of the summer allowing his black leather shoes to be covered in a fine chalky light brown dust of the earth lining the concrete sidewalks.
He stopped in front of a small grey apartment complex. The man lifted the coffin swaying it to and fro several times before smashing it into the door.
"Come out, come out wherever you are!" He grinned.
There is only silence in between each bludgeoning. No one would come out, he reversed backward-looking above observing the window curtains on the second floor. No movement as he twisted his head left to right in amusement.
He strolled back to look at the fine grain of the mighty wood unable to bust with the strength of his coffin releasing the rope. Sitting his palm on the entrance he gathers his digits out to scrape his fingernails into the lumber screeching with each grinding.
"Lian…" His raspy voice creaked.
Removing his hands he would pound again and again repeating the name. A small shriek could be heard, he retrieved the twine to wiggle it to the side.
A swift sturdy swerve to the right controlling the line with both hands together, a sharp veer toward the apartment's door shattering it into pieces as the casket sailed into the house crashing into the dining room, knocking ceramic dishes off the small cabinets into the checkered tiles below.
Screams from the back could be heard, the man's heartless eyes reflected nothing. He passed by stepping on the shards without a care in the world.
"Mother dear have you forgotten me?" He sung.
"Go home, he isn't here!" A female voice chimed.
"Mother, the embalmer's wife please tell me!" He shouted
She screamed holding tight to a small girl in her arms. They both shook like brittle leaves in the wind, she brought her arms and hands in closer to swaddle the child in between her legs covering her head to protect her kin.
"Children make lovely dolls…"
His hands trembled in delight reaching for the daughter in the woman's care. Grasping hard she wouldn't allow him to yank her as she began to wail out loud.
"Stop!" A voice shouted.
A boy stood tall, he thrust himself at the man with a large swipe of his hand. He held a small useless swiss knife but lunged at the coffin wielder fearlessly.
"Lian, the embalmers son!" He cheered.
"You are the reaper!" Lian yelled.
Lian jumped towards the man of death dressed in an ill-fitting suit. He easily evaded the boy's attack strike only whipping through the air.
"Lian, I only come for you!" he argued.
Lurching back, he took his slender pointer finger halting him with a single touch to the top of his black greasy hair. He squatted down at eye level to look at the boy in his partial heterochromia glimmering in the limited darkness.
"You killed my Dad!" Lian howled.
"My dear boy you will learn there is more to the family business…"
Nimble movements and a scythe enlarged in between his fingers. It was flaked and breaking on the tip of the blade, rusty, crusty, orange streaked down the handle as he gave the weapon to Lian who examined it.
"This was your Dad's Lian."
"Why is it like this?" Lian asked.
"No one took care of it."
"Did you have to break the door down to show this crummy scythe?!" He argued.
"Because I can not repair it, only you can." He smiled.
"How can I fix this stupid thing?" Lian questioned.
"That's why you need to come with me!"
"Not my son too!"
"Mom?" Lian shouted.
"Why do you think we are in this dreadful, awful town Lian?"
Her words drowned in despair, it was painful to see the tall man in plain sight again. His being was an omen itself that only troubled anyone's existence in front of them.
"I don't know…" He replied.
"Embalmer's wife, if he doesn't leave you will be in more danger." Reaper explained.
"You don't think I don't know that?!" Her voice shook.
"It is his time to take his father's mantle."
"I don't understand what did he do that I must take over?" Lian asked.
"Death, we handle all death."
You could hear wings from a group of birds take off, their feathers left on the sill as darkness drew nearer as the night fell.
"If you leave, you are forbidden to come back, Lian…" The woman stated.
"I don't understand?" Lian inquired.
She looked guilty fiddling her fingers. Her lips were nervous to spout anything twitching, bringing her hands to her face she wiped a single tear away from her cheek with the sleeve of her shirt.
"That's why you never met your father and now I will never see you again…"
"To do this stupid reaper thing?" Lian asked.
"Proud, very proud you will also gain experience with humans we work out of a small parlor!" Reaper noted.
"Why now am I learning this?"
"Because you are of age my boy!" He snickered.
Lian held the dying scythe in his hands. He could feel a slight vibration through its crumbling metal, he could hear a faint crying.
The noise could be heard inside his head, he nearly dropped the weapon when the Reaper caught giving him an uneasy glare before grinning.
"You heard it right?"
"What was that?" Liam shouted.
"She is dying, reclaim her and she will be reborn!"