Two days have passed since the council ended.
"Hey, have you ever had that feeling of something incredibly boring just happened while you're just sitting here eating dirt on your first day?" The trembling voice of a man rang inside a dark room as he faced a woman standing in front of him.
A confrontation happened that ended up with his capture, and he was taken blindfolded. The man was not able to tell the places he had walked but he was able to count the number of steps that he took as his feet transitioned from traversing through the rough ground to a slate of creaky wooden floors. He met a pair of stone stairs next that made the soles of his feet snap every time he moved until he was forced to turn left and sit down in silence until it was broken by the sound of a metal door closing in front of him. Left with his arms tied to his back and the rest of his lower body bound to a chair's leg, he had no choice but to stay here ever since.
"No, I don't and I'm busy," the woman replied as she took another step towards the door. "Those kids are ripping each other's throats again… I have more people to feed too…"
"What with that dirt cake?" The man scoffed and tilted his head with a smile.
"How shameless, I am doing nothing but my best… A mere reaper that murders us for nothing doesn't have the right to judge me. Once Grandma Mabel orders me to kill you, you'll be toast," the woman replied with an awkward but dignified tone.
"Sounds like you're having a shitty second life," the reaper continued. "What's your name by the way?"
"You… I have no reason to tell my name to you, you monster!" The woman roared, letting her voice bounce from the bricked and moist walls around them. But then, she switched her character. She stepped back and raised the tray over the bottom half of her head to hide her shy smirk. Her face then began to redden and as her words began to tremble, she muttered, "It's Darlene… almost no one dares to ask me about my… name… why do you want to know?"
"I was going to tell you that your life is shit, but that's just sad…" The man replied as his lips curved into a wry smile. He retreated to the back of his chair and with a carefree sigh, he followed, "Well, I do know that I'm going to die but I guess it would make it at least better to have the name of the one who forced a handful of dirt down my throat, sounds a bit sexy though."
Darlene's breath was suddenly cut short as she felt a sudden burst of warmth in her chest. Her lips trembled and with her reddened cheeks, she began to twirl a bit of her hair and asked, "R-really? I—"
"Actually, hold onto that thought," the reaper interrupted her and leaned forward. "YOUR LIFE IS AS SHITTY AS THAT DIRT CAKE YOU GAVE ME, DARLENE!"
The next thing the man felt was a metallic tray thundering at the side of his face. Its surface, contrary to its initial cold touch, left a burning pain on his cheeks that made him groan and clench his teeth. He was left with a free second to process what just happened but when he thought that he finally had a break, he felt the corner of that same tray, hitting and ripping through his left eye. The man shrieked on top of his lungs and as soon as the blindfold began to drop down to his neck, he finally saw the figure of a crying brown haired girl, carrying a bloody tray, in front of him.
"I'm going to… kill you…" Darlene muttered as she used the back of her hand to rub the tears off of the bottom of her eyes. "I've had enough of you, ungrateful little bastards… forcing me to take care of you here while Margaret hangs around Grandma Mabel outside with the kids… while I'm forced in here…" She took a sharp breath through her nose and added, "I'll just kill you all here and tell them that you all killed yourself because of how good my cake is, they'll believe me like always!"
"Your cake must be that bad, huh, Darlene?" The man blinked his remaining eye and chuckled as she watched the girl in front of her tilt her head like a broken doll. "As you could see… or hear, no one wants it, and that's why your hostages are wailing."
"I'm doing my best… why can't you all just appreciate me…" Darlene clenched her fist.
"Well, girl, your best is pretty shit too, you have to admit that…" The man explained, copying the tone of a guidance counselor talking to his patient. "I mean, if that thing of yours is good, you won't have to force it down our throats… accepting that you're shit would be your first step to success, you know?"
"I see…" Darlene muttered as she cupped her chin with her free hand. "And?"
The man jerked his head back and furrowed his brows. "And?"
She looked away and then, with an empty sigh, she tightened her jaws into a smile and gave herself a nod. "I'm assuming that you would have more than that but—"
The man scoffed. "Oh no, I did not think that far, I was just calling you shi—"
Darlene interrupted him by slamming the metallic tray on the other side of his face to make it ring like a bell. The reaper groaned once more, the blow that he received would've made him fall if Darlene didn't bother to help him. He was left to open his mouth to take a deep breath as his ears rang to mitigate the pain that shattered his composure and at that same second, he felt Darlene's fingers deep into his skull. She dug his right eye out and made him rip his own throat with a high-pitched scream.
The man's wails escaped the confines of the room. It went through the hallways and silenced the other captives who were also in pain. He could not help but feel his breath slowly leave through his lips, but the woman who held him captive was still not done yet. There was nothing that he could do as she lifted his blinded gaze from the floor by grabbing his head by the hair to expose his neck.
"I'm going to kill you, after all," Darlene whispered with her words sounding as sharp as her gritting teeth.
"All that sweet talk for nothing. I guess this is the end of the road for me," the man let out a dark chuckle but it was cut short when he felt Darlene's nails slowly sinking at the side of his throat.
"Considering what you've done to us… this is nothing, we just wanted to live!" Darlene shouted in his ear before she tightened her grip at the surface of his neck. Then, as her lips trembled as though she was about to cry, she added, "If it weren't for you guys… Miss Valencia would still be alive… we would still be playing with the other kids…"
"Well, that is a terrible thing to say," he scoffed. "especially when you point it out that she would be playing with the other kids… also, fuck you too, we wouldn't be here if the bounded souls like you just passed on instead of shoving dirt into everyone's throats, you're killing living humans, asshole," the man added, bringing out another moment of what seemed like a burst of hysterical laughter as soon as he felt his scalp being ripped from his forehead. "But yeah, fuck Death too… I'm so tired of this bullshit, so let's fuck everyone up! I'm telling you… to tell your grandma or grandpa that they're coming. They already know where you guys are!"
"I do not care, because it was Grandma Mabel who brought us the good news, and we trust her with our lives!" Darlene scoffed and tilted her head with a victorious smile that the reaper in front of her failed to see. "An army of five hundred soldiers with their own set of captains, lieutenants, and squad leaders are here to protect us as Mother Clarissa's convent recovers and Uncle Arnel's farm arms them with those armors. Your friends will be toast, I've heard that one of the weakest of us was able to kill one of you while fighting five at a time and even with the help of that boat, you will never be able to defeat us, you cannot stop the Horde of Terran Morgen!"
Darlene ripped this throat even before the man could take a breath.
And in another place right at that very moment, the same reaper who sat comfortably in an office chair inside the confines of a golden meeting room while facing a mountain of drawing boards smiled. He let out an elated breath as he looked on the little girl burying her head into a tower of paperwork around her with a tall cup of coffee in her hand. There, the man continued to look at her until somehow, as though like magic, he caught her attention in total silence that did nothing but make her scowl.
"The fuck do you want again, Jeremy? I'm already working on your weapon orders," the woman protested as she furrowed her brows. "Is there something wrong with my face?"
"Well…" Jeremy widened his twisted smile as he tilted his head and crossed his arms. "I'm pretty sure I just got my throat ripped out and also, they don't call themselves Blues, you little bitch!"