Chapter Fifty-One

My time as a Reaper so far hasn't been very problematic. 

The only times I'd had to use my fighting skills or powers was when dealing with less humane creatures, especially ones from other worlds. I've seen creatures that would make this planet's most feared predator look like nothing but a stuffed animal. 

I'd had a couple souls that had resisted a little, sure. But none tried to get physical with me. Some would yell, sling insults, but I always knew they didn't really mean them. They were just angry, regretful, sad. So, I never lashed out back, and eventually, they always calmed down. Some even said sorry, believe it or not. 

But now, as three more men dressed in just as high-tech gear as the guy I'd just killed busted through the shot through door, I realized I was finally going to get to put my skills to test. 

For real. 

"He killed Jared." I hear one of the men growling, stepping towards me while pointing his gun right at my face. I guess Jared was the dead guy. 

"Wait." Another man, the one I'm going to assume is the leader of this little group, puts his arm out and stops guy number one from attacking me. "I want to talk to him first." 

I raised my eyebrow a little at the way they were talking about me like I wasn't standing right here, staring at them while I waited for them to finish their conversation. If I was smart, I would've tried to cut them all down right then and there, but I guess I kind of wanted to know more about what they wanted from me. Apart from to blow hole in me. I already knew they wanted that much.

"You're Zero, aren't you?" The leader says, turning his head to look at me. I could only see his eyes through the ski mask he wore over his face. He even had black paint all the way around his exposed eye skin. He was tall, and with wide shoulders, probably even without all the gear he had on. "I remember some crazy little girl going on about her dead brother she'd seen, a giant guy with black eyes." 

I push down the irritation I feel at him calling my sister some crazy girl, especially because at the end of the day, she wasn't crazy, not when it came to thinking her supposed to be dead brother was still alive and now looked like a demon, at least. She had in fact been right on the money about that. "And you are?" I ask, doing my best to keep my voice even. I didn't want him to see he was getting under my skin; didn't want to give him the satisfaction. 

He stopped a few feet away from me, his gun pointed at the ground as he held it in front of himself. "My name is Landon. I'm sure you lot are already aware, but I'm part of a group called Portal Hoppers." I have to refrain from rolling my eyes at the proud way he says "Portal Hoppers," like he was a member of some exclusive, elite club. "We aim to cleanse this world and everyone after of you lot's filthy aura, and every single one of us is prepared to die to do it." He cocks his gun, staring me down. 

Was that it? No demands? No unveiling of some secret, ultimate plan they had concocted? 

"What have you done with Henry?" I ask, trying to steer the conversation in a direction that hopefully will lead me to some answers. 

"Oh him?" Landon sneers, walking a little closer to me. I keep my eyes locked on his, absolutely refusing to yield first as he stops again, much closer this time. "He's chained up in our basement, unconscious, and beaten half to death." I feel something much stronger than the slight irritation I'd been feeling before bubbling up inside me. 

Henry had been one of the nice ones, patient and seemingly kind. I had liked him, and while previously I had been more than a little motivated to get him back, hearing this douchebag taunting me with the visual of my brother tied up in a dark room like a dog made motivated seem too weak of a word to explain how I was feeling right now. 

I don't hesitate a moment longer, just charge Landon, my scythe ready to slit his throat.

I growl in frustration when he aims his gun at me, and I have less than a second to get out of the way of his bullets. I push off the ground, flying into the air to avoid being shot. 

But apparently this was not a one-on-one match, because the other two guys that had been standing back watching now point their own guns at me and start firing. 

I hiss in pain when I can't avoid them all, and I feel at least two lodge in my left leg. 

This was going downhill fast. 

I was outnumbered, and whatever they had just hit me with, was sending a white-hot pain shooting up my leg. It's like I could feel its poison running all over my body as I crashed to the ground, filling my veins with its fire and pumping to every corner of my being. 

"What the fuck?!" I yell angrily, ripping my pant leg off and throwing the ruined fabric aside to look at the wound. The men relax their guns, and approach where I'm sitting on the ground. "Piss off!" I yell, pointing my scythe at them in warning.

I can feel my flesh burning. It feels like it's melting off, and it kind of looks like it too. The skin around the bullet hole is starting to turn black, and pieces flake off and drift to the ground. 

"A special creation of our own." Landon says, and I can hear the cocky grin in his voice. "It keeps you from healing, so we can even the playing field a little." He crouches down a few feet away from me, leaning on his gun for support. 

"Pussy." I say, anger flaring up in my belly. I wanted to kill this guy; more than I think I'd ever wanted to kill anyone ever. Have I ever even really wanted to kill someone? I don't think so, to be honest. 

But there was no doubt in my mind, if this guy was burning alive and I had a glass of water, I'd drink the water and then piss on his ashes.