The Last Great Reaper Read online

  Dominic was shocked, “She really is their leader?”

  “Samir, it has been too long. How are you, and um, things?” asked Death.

  “All is well, Great Reaper, as much as it can be at least. Spots of yellow fever and plague have been rising out of nowhere. When will these humans learn to stay in one spot?” he replied in a middle eastern accent while staring into her eyes.

  Dominic couldn’t help but notice they stared a few seconds too long at each other. Samir appeared to either not see Dominic or not care he was there.

  Samir had been born in 12th century Persia. The oldest of six and only son of a silk merchant. He became his father pride and joy as he grew to be tall and robust. He began learning his father’s business and by the age of 20 joined him on trips to foreign lands. It was during one of these trips he contracted pneumonia and died a short time after. Samir was chosen to be a reaper, and when the opportunity presented, Death selected him to replace the previous White Rider in the late 16th century.

  As they stood in the cemetery catching up a black horse with a flowing white mane rode into the gates, and Dominic watched as its rider came into view.

  “...behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand.”

  Famine was not a man, but an Asian woman who appeared to be in her early forties. She dressed in clothing usually worn by men in ancient China. Death and Samir slightly increased the distance between them as the horse stopped and its rider joined them. Just as Samir, she also bowed to Death. She did notice Dominic and expressed the same a look of surprise Adofo had.

  Death greeted her as she’d done Samir. “Ling, my friend, how nice to see you.”

  “Great Reaper, we have a guest, but you never allow guests here. May I ask what is the special occasion?”

  “I’ll explain when War arrives. There is much to say, and I’d rather only have to say it once,” Death replied. Ling gave a short bow and faced the direction of the sounds of a galloping horse.

  Ling Wei’s life began around the year 180 BC in China. The daughter of a prominent family, her life had been planned since birth. She was married off at a young age and started a family with husband, Pei, right away. Her life was uneventful until she met Zhang, a widow, and relative of her husband. She had always been attracted to women but was forced to hide it.

  Ling’s attraction to her was immediate, and when it was clear the feeling was mutual, they acted on it. Eventually, after months of the two women pretending to be only close friends, Pei learned the truth. He discovered a love letter from Zhang and had her sent away, but she suspected Zhang had been murdered. Pei punished her by locking her away from her children and starving her to death. Ling was currently the oldest reigning Horseman and Death’s closest friend.

  As the sounds of the horse’s hooves came closer, a black portal opened, and War made his entrance. The beautiful red horse stopped, and its rider descended wearing an 18th-century British military uniform.

  “...And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from the Earth, and that men would slay one another...”

  Robert Waterford had been born in 1680 into a prominent English family where men went to war with no exceptions. Like Ling his life was planned for him from the moment he was born and by the age of 25, he’d married and started a family. His nearly 6’5 stature, muscular build, and quick intellect made him a natural soldier. A promising military career came to an abrupt end in 1715 when a bullet pierced his heart.

  War descended from his horse and walked over to Death, giving her the same customary bow. “Ma’am, I apologize for my tardiness.”

  “War you were only three minutes behind Ling, it’s fine...this time,” she replied and didn’t appear to be joking.

  War looked over to Dominic with fire in eyes and stampeded towards him. “Great Reaper, what is he doing here?”

  “He’s my guest, touch him, and I will be pulling my blade from your chest.”

  War immediately backed down and rejoined the Horsemen. Every so often he would glare over in Dominic’s direction. Samir finally looked at the young priest, acknowledging his presence for the first time.

  “Ok, now that everyone is here let’s get this over with,” Death stated, and they all lined in a military formation before her. “We have two items to discuss tonight. First, there is a rotting soul out there that was released by a Paladin who had help from someone that I believe is another reaper. I will track down the son, but I want that damn traitor caught by the end of the day. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Great Reaper,” they all responded as one.

  “This is the second time this has happen in a hundred years, that can’t be a coincidence,” said Ling.

  “How may I ask did this happen?” War asked with caution. “Maybe I can talk with the reaper and get it out of her.”

  “I believe it’s the same reaper as before, and I don’t know the end game, but it can’t be good,” said Death. “As for the mother, a reaper named Clara and I’ve already taken care of her. The son’s name is Percival, but I suspect he’s going by another name now. We know what happens to rotters and the people they affect, so this needs to be resolved fast.”

  “Did she reveal anything?” asked Samir.

  “No, she said nothing,” said Death. Dominic knew she was lying, Clara had given little, but it seemed sufficient enough for Death. “Find the reaper and inform me immediately. I want to do the interrogation personally.”

  She called Dominic to stand beside her. “This is Father Dominic, and he is an immortal that I am guiding to a cluster. I figured his presence would alarm you since these meetings are just strictly the four of us, so I thought I would explain. His timing was…unfortunate.”

  Ling volunteered to take Dominic. “There is a cluster in Scotland, around Edinburgh I believe. I could take him while I search for the reaper.”

  “No, I want your full attention to the assigned task. Any questions?”

  No one said anything, so Death dismissed the three Horsemen. “Great now go find my traitor while I’ll find the rotter.”

  Dominic watched as they all mounted their horses and rode off one by one into the night, War giving him one last scowl.

  “You lied to them, why?” Dominic asked.

  Death turned to Dominic, “It appears I have my very own Judas and I think I may know why you’re here.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Nella slowed her pace as Round Pound came into view. Death and Dominic dismounted from the massive creature, and the manor suddenly appeared. Death gave the loyal mare a kiss between the eyes and watched as she began galloping into the dark before disappearing.

  “Why have I been chosen? You said that you knew now?” he asked.

  “I said I think I know and until I’m sure, I’m keeping it to myself.”

  Dominic decided not to press the issue. He figured she’d tell him once she was sure, but there was something else bothering him.

  “When I woke up earlier, I was completely nude. Did you undress me?” Dominic asked, and Death became visibly baffled.

  “No, I did not undress you, it was May. She was here when I brought you home, well she’s always here. Anyway, you pissed yourself while you were unconscious, so she cleaned your clothes. Trust me she’d never take advantage. I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to anyone in my care.”

  Dominic suddenly felt embarrassed, but her reaction to his safety felt deeply reassuring. “Well, I um, shall we head back inside?”

  “Dominic don’t—,” she yelled, but it was too late. He started walking towards the house but ended up soaking wet in the muddy pond. “I have to make the water solid; otherwise all of London would think they were the second coming of Christ.”

  Death began laughing uncontrollably and Dominic couldn’t help but laugh too, but not before noticing how beautiful her genuine smile was. She helped him out of the water and with her scythe made it passable. The door opened, an
d a small old woman appeared who Dominic presumed to be May. The tiny woman’s face was lined with wrinkles that deepened when she smiled.

  “Oh, Persephone my dear, you’re back. How is New Orleans in the fall?” asked May with a strong Eastern European accent. She eyed Dominic’s clothing with dissatisfaction. “Well you just had to go and ruin your clothes again, didn’t you?”

  Dominic apologized and thanked May for cleaning his clothes.

  “Oh hush, just go to your room and change. You should have some more clean clothes,” said May. Dominic thanked her again and headed inside. “Persephone, you have a guest, it’s Ling.”

  After Dominic was inside, Death turned to May and asked how long Ling been waiting.

  “Oh, she only arrived a few minutes before you and Father Dominic. Is there anything wrong?”

  Death was confused and slightly pissed. When she gave an order, she expected it to be followed.

  Shaking her head, she walked into the foyer and caught a glimpse of Dominic standing in the living room looking at the painting. She watched him for a moment, noticing how mesmerized he was by the landscape.

  As Death continued on to the library, May joined Dominic at the painting. She’d never gave it more than a passing glance, but he seemed to be captivated by it.

  “Nice place isn’t it? If it were not for my allergies, I would go looking for it,” she said jokingly, trying to get his attention.

  “I’ve seen it before, every night in my dreams for almost 400 years. This exact view from the mountainside, except last night. I didn’t dream last night…,” he said and suddenly turned to May. “Do you know where this is or who painted it? It’s not signed by the artist.”

  “No, I’m sorry, I have no clue. I have been tending to this home for nearly two centuries now, and it has just always been here. Persephone does not allow anything to be changed and she never allows another painting in this room. In fact, the last painting she hung in the entire house was her last portrait in the corridor.”

  “Why do you call her Persephone?” Dominic asked. “Captain Adofo called her by that name as well, but the other Horsemen called her by the Great Reaper.”

  “She only allows close friends to call her Persephone and only within these walls. She chose the name years ago, but she is not the unfortunate soul from the myth, so do not ask her. She does not like to be asked about her name.”

  Dominic sat on the sofa facing the painting and was joined by May. They soon began talking, and Dominic asked her how long she’d been a reaper.

  “Oh, goodness, I am not a reaper, that would be hell on Earth for someone like me, I am immortal,” she said with a smile.

  Dominic’s heart skipped several beats. “You’re immortal…so am I! How long can you remember back?” May held Dominic’s hand as she gave a short history of her life.

  She had been born in eastern Europe in the 17th century as Maria Mikhailov. She grew up in a loving family with many siblings and married at eighteen to her childhood sweetheart. As the years passed, one by one, she watched as her parents, siblings, and husband grew old and died. She aged as well, and it was about her 95th birthday that she realized she hadn’t changed physically in decades. When her children began to grow old and gray and her appearance the same, she knew something was wrong.

  One night she prayed for answers. “And that is when she appeared, Death. I thought finally my time is here. I will not have to watch my babies die, but then she tells me I will not die, ever. I am immortal. Persephone offered to take me to a cluster, and even though I did not want to leave my children, she convinced me to go. Years later, she let me come back on their last days to hold their hands and kiss them goodbye.”

  Dominic’s emotions were muddled. He had finally met someone like him, but she had all her memories. There was no significant gap at the beginning of her life.

  “Anyway, the clusters were not for me. They’re very nice people, but it felt forced. So, I prayed again, but to her and she answered. She brought me to her home, and I have been keeping it tidy ever since. She gave me the name May because I always would start a question with “May I,” but I cannot help it if my mother taught me manners.” She gave Dominic a quick wink.

  They talked until May realized Dominic was still soaking wet and ruining the sofa. She yelled at him to get off and go change. Dominic headed to his room as if he’d just been scolded by his grandmother.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Death headed into the library to meet with Ling. She found her standing in front of the large painting.

  “What are you doing here?” Death asked. “You have an important task to complete.”

  “I know you think it’s one of us, but I need to know you don’t suspect me. We’ve been friends for far too long.”

  “I don’t have to explain anything and you being here is wasting both of our time,” said Death.

  Ling became visibly upset and refused to leave without reassurance from Death that she was in the clear. “You know who it is, don’t you?”

  “If you didn’t do anything wrong then you shouldn’t be concerned,’ Death replied, ignoring the question. “Why are you so damn upset?”

  “Persephone, we’ve been friends for centuries, you might not call it a friendship, but that’s what it is. I need to know that you trust me, otherwise let me pass on.”

  Death was shocked at Ling’s words. Of all the Horsemen, Ling was the one she knew would stay with her to the end. “Ling, I trust you, but I cannot show favor to any of my reapers, and you know that.”

  Ling begrudgingly agreed and turned back to the painting, trying to avoid an emotional moment.

  “You’re painting again, but I thought you said ever since the last renewal you were blocked? Who is he?”

  Death was confused by Ling’s words until she looked at the painting. A man stood over to the side, looking forward with a menacing glare. His eyes seemed to be burrowing a hole into hers.

  “I have no clue who he is,” said Death. She looked down to find her signature at the bottom of the painting.

  She’d painted every piece of art in her home, but the only paintings she never signed was this graveyard and the landscape from the living room.

  “I didn’t paint him,” she said. “At least I don’t remember, but after a few bottles of wine...”

  She dismissed it for now, and they continued talking a while longer about the much more significant issues.

  “You know what, I’m glad you are here. I need you to do some research for me.”

  She gave the Horseman detailed instructions and Ling departed to complete her task. Death lingered in the library for a few more moments, staring at the figure and wondering if her theory about Dominic was right. She had only one way to confirm it, breaking down the wall inside his head.

  She headed to Dominic’s room but found it empty. Walking through endless hallways and past the many rooms, she found him in her favorite one. Her workshop would be a dream come true for most artists. A large spacious room filled with art supplies of the highest quality, wide bay windows, and a large skylight. It hadn’t been used in over a half-century. After painting her last portrait, she began to suffer from artist’s block.

  Dominic was busy admiring the night sky above him when Death entered the room. The home was much larger than it appeared on the outside. She joined him in looking up at the moon for a few moments before making her presence known.

  “Jesus Christ, how are you so quiet? My heart nearly stopped,” he said, almost jumping out of his shoes.

  “It’s a gift. I’m going to look for a dead man, and you’re staying here.” Death turned to leave, but Dominic ran over and blocked her path. “This is the safest place in the world you could be.”

  “Take me with you, I don’t want to stay locked in this house for God knows how long until you need me. You said I could come and go as I please and if I’m in as much danger as you say, then I’m safer out there with you.”

  Death considered
his point and reluctantly came to the conclusion that he was right. “Fine, you can come, just don’t say anything. Oh and do me a favor, don’t come in here again. Everyone should be allowed a personal sanctuary, and this room is mine, clear?”

  “Clear.”

  CHAPTER 10

  August 1456: Northern England

  James awoke the next morning, briefly forgetting where he was until the last few days came back to him. After Elizabeth left him the previous night, he couldn’t sleep for hours. Staring at the scar, he wondered how he managed to survive. It's shaped almost resembled a wing.

  “I must have a family out there; someone took care of me and helped me survive this.”

  He finally managed to get a few hours of sleep throughout the night. A knock at the door startled him, and he heard Elizabeth ask if he was awake.

  “Yes, please, come in,” he said. Elizabeth entered the room and quickly closed the door behind her. Her father had left early in the morning for a two-day trip and hadn’t noticed she slept in her older sister’s room.

  “How are you today?” Elizabeth asked, handing him a small plate of breakfast. James ate the meal slowly this time. Ever since seeing the scar his appetite had decreased. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the meal, so he ate it.

  “I’m fine, I want to give you something for your troubles.” James reached into pockets of the tattered pants he’d been wearing an pulled out a handful of gold coins. He handed them to Elizabeth who refused to take them.

  “I don’t want your money, what I did for you was not for a fee,” she said. “I think I have an idea for how you can stay now.”

  “My father, Edgar, is a craftsman who often travels to sell his goods. Maybe I can persuade him to give you work in exchange for room and board. He has been looking for an apprentice since the last one left a few months ago.”

  Elizabeth explained that since her sisters left home there was more room and her father had briefly considered opening the house to lodgers. If James offered to work for cheap pay and a place to stay her father would most likely agree. “He’s the most frugal man in England.”