A tall spider-like man in ragged suit pants and an even shabbier top hat appeared in front of a crowd that was beginning to gather for the next day's entertainment. He had his hands behind his back, dragging a coffin as he walked with the rope between his fingers. A thick cloud of smoke curled around his feet, obscuring his features. The crowd began chanting, 'get him! Get him! Get him!' with every passing second.
The man slicked his blonde hair back from his face, revealing a wide grin and a small mole above his right eye. He held the coffin steady with one hand, he waved his other towards the crowd. The coffin slowly lifted into the air, floating higher up on his outstretched arm until it rested at the end of a metal ladder fixed to the side of the abandoned stage.
His teeth were yellowed and broken. His eyes twinkled behind thin glasses. A pair of red leather gloves covered most of his hands, but he could still manage to make a fist. He walked through the tiny town as the sunset dyed the sky a vibrant pink color. He looked like he belonged at a circus instead of a funeral parlor. Furthermore, he stepped up on the stage and pulled off his red gloves. They fell into the box with a dull clatter.
Stopping in front of a small apartment complex, he gawked up at his reflection on the window's glass, running his long fingers over his face in a daze.
He let out a low whistle. "Well, I'll be damned. Who would have thought that they'd miss me so much." He paused.
Taking the coffin, he smashed it into the door angrily as he tried to knock the door down. No response. With more force and anger than he intended, he knocked the door down. His foot was halfway into the building when a sudden noise caught his attention. He turned around with a frown.
"Come out, Come out wherever you are!" The Man grinned.
His long fingernails scraped against the wood frame of the doorway, making a high-pitched screeching sound. The darkness was inviting. The man stepped closer, the light from inside illuminating the room from beneath a door at the end of the hall.
The Man smiled. "There we go…" His lips curled upwards into a menacing smile that showed off all of his sharp canines. He pushed open the door carefully.
"Lian…" His raspy voice creaked.
The door slammed opened as a woman with a bat came out swinging who seemed unfazed
As she swung her weapon, he jumped forward, his body elongating slightly. He grabbed the woman by the face. Her eyes were filled with terror.
She screamed at the top of her lungs as the man's teeth snapped into her skull. Blood spurted everywhere. He tore his head away as soon as her head left her neck, her body slumped. The blood splattered over the man's face, who wiped it off with his sleeve as he entered the flat.
"That was the embalmer's wife... Lian?" He smiled.
A young teenage boy was peeking out of the room with a little girl by his side. He looked up at the Man fearfully as he continued.
"Lian... My sweet Lian… How are you doing?" He coughed.
He moved toward the boy. The boy froze. The child in the boy's arms whimpered. The Man stopped moving as the children began to cry and scream.
"Little girls make good dolls!" The man laughed.
"I know who you are!" Lian shouted.
"You do?!" He said excitedly.
Lian gazed down at his mother's shattered body, which was bloodied and torn apart from his hands. Opening the coffin, he hands a sword out to the boy. The boy took it gingerly, and the man's grip tightened.
"We should go now, before someone sees us…." The Man whispered into the boy's ear.
"NO!" Lian shouted.
[Reaper System Activated: New Owner, Lian.]
The sword was heavy in his hand as he pulled it out, hearing the steel hiss against the sheath as it was drawn out. He didn't need any help. He'd be fine. The Man smiled.
The boy turned to look at him with wide, fearful green eyes, "I don't want to go with you!" He begged.
"I didn't think you would have actually done that," He laughed.
His sister was decapitated and cut in half, her blood soaking into the ground around him while she lay there dead and bloody. Howls from the blade echoed into his ears as he stared into the lifeless eyes of his sister, her blood coating his arms. He watched, mesmerized, as her heart stopped and her chest ceased to rise and fall with each breath. How did his sister die so immediately?
"You didn't even notice, did you?" The blonde man cackled.
"Wh-What?!" Lian screamed.
"You are the oriental line of reapers, and somehow you almost escaped me, but no more!" He huffed.
"Reapers? I thought he was just an embalmer?" Lian asked.
"He wanted to give respect back to the dead, so he did both," He grinned.
Lian felt something poke him in the side's soul. She was trying to tell him something. She had something important to say. The dark man reached out, grabbing Lian's wrist. He pulled him further along, dragging the corpse behind him as if nothing else was happening.
"River!" Lian shouted.
She pointed toward her body deeply. He knew what she meant, the River of Souls. It was the same river that flowed through the city's streets. The river flowed through and through the city until it emptied out.
"I can make you a doll for you to return to!" The man laughed.
River smiled, hearing his words. He wasn't sure exactly how it worked, but the idea sounded nice, and the only thing he had going for him today was that he was alive. But why was River pointing at herself? She couldn't have come here willingly or willingly died for him. He needed some kind of proof.
"But how would you hold her soul?" Lian asked.
"Your sword," He responded.
"Why didn't Mom visit me too?" Lian shouted.
"Maybe she left too quickly? After all, the flesh is just a shell..." He snorted.
"What is your name?" The boy questioned.
"Gemma… Gemma the destroyer and your father was an amazing reaper," Gemma noted.