Short Stories With Fangs

Chapter 21: Chapter 21: Come Along


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Chapter 21: Come Along

We will sleep until morning comes again; we will rise to the sound of the birdsong…

  • The Grim Reaper.

Ah, death. The thing is, even I, the Grim Reaper, know that mostly, it is pointless. Yes, some humans try to give it meaning, but the thing is, once you are dead, you are out of the game.

I watch as the two armies make their stand. One army is convinced that the other is pure evil. The enemy even has a Dark Lord (Who used to be a simple impressionable mortal) so, they might be onto something.

Ah, the war horns are blazing. This is my cue, to make sure that I am on time.

Oh, I forgot to say something about the other side. They are… fighting for their survival. Once you become a trap, there is no going back. The sin of eating a living being which could talk, is too great.

Not that the sin of eating animals who can't, is not great. It is just that some things are taboo, and others are not.

So, I begin my song. Those who die hear it, and come to the hill, where I have opened the gates. The thing about death is, that the soul forgets all its grudges. It is never a good thing, when I am called to reap at a battle.

Souls see the hate, the bloodletting. They rush to me, almost pushing, unseen. They want to come to a place of greater safety. Furthermore, they don't want to see the hate in the eyes of both sides.

A curse passes over my head, and harmlessly slams into my gates. I sigh. It is not like the weapons of the living could do something to the dead. I keep on singing.

My song gives the souls hope. Yet, they do not go about performing their final dance. The traps have the souls of the things they have eaten on their shoulders. There is no hate in the many small people's eyes. Only fear. They urge those who killed them to protect them. For, they know only love in death, and so do their murderers.

"We will go to a place which is safe from anger," I keep on singing, promising the sweet release of death. The spirits keep on running to me.

 I see the Dark Lord fall, and there seems to be a squirrel latched on his nose. Well, no matter. I have only one job, and, wait! What is that soul doing near the Dark Lord? Could it be? Does it remember?

This is a disaster. I leave the gates open, and then move closer to the runaway soul. Much to my confusion, it is holding the arms of the Dark Lord down, as the squirrel bites the former woman's face with fury which is misplaced.

"Get him, Reginald. You can do it, buddy!" The soul yells. I see the body of the man sprawled on the ground, face first. He looks plain, but there is a red sword strapped to his belt.

"Hate does not suit the spirits," I take a hold of the soul's arms, and force it off the dark lord. Yet, by now, the squirrel has already bit so deeply into an eye, that the dark lord is screaming his death throngs.

"Just who the heck are you? I need to help Reggie. To protect Marius. He is leading the rear, so he could give commands. If I don't hold the vanguard, he will be swept in this!" The spirit says, and then tries to hold down the dark lord once more, but I don't let him.

"Come along now, come with me. We will break our fast with friends," I tell him, trying to show him that his fight is over. There is nothing after death, for the brain is the keeper of our memories. Yet, this man, he somehow kept his memories intact. I wonder, just what is powering his resolve.

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"To hell with you! I must protect…" I grab the soul, and force it to go limp in my arms.

With just enough tugging, as I think will still fall under the category of being gentle, I tug him towards the gates. I can study this man later. For now, I just need to reap all the souls. The last thing I want, is for a necromancer to harvest them. Nasty critters them, necromancers.

"I must protect him. We need to gut the slimes," even limp, he can still talk.

"Our journey never ends," I say, wanting to ease his mind. "What is your name, oh, spirit?"

"Joe! Ok? It is Joe! And I must protect Marius. It is my fault he is here. I turned him into Marianna, and then brought him into a place, where he can get hurt. It is all my fault," the spirit begins to turn black, and my eyes widen.

"If you don't let go, you will wander these lands forever," I caution him, giving up the calming hymn entirely.

"I don't care," Joe yells, as he manages to wrestle himself from my hold. Something that no spirit should be able to do.

"Come along now," I yell after him, but he is rushing towards the enemy lines. I can see that nobody rises to stop him. How could they, when only I can see the devastation love can sow?

By the time Joe reaches the slimes, the mortals can see him. And, what a sight he is. Clad in black clothing, his green eyes shining with malice. I have failed. Love won. It never ends well, when it does.

The Battle of the Rolling Hills will go down in history with many brave deeds. The victors write history, and so, the brave deeds of the traps will be forgotten.

Yet, some bards still sing about them, at times. The great purging followed, with a little resistance from Demon Lord Marius. Yet, he ended up locked up in a tower, with only a window, so he could see the ocean that was once his home.

The Lich Lord Joe ruled with an iron fist. The only thing which stopped him, was the Ultimate Hero of Fate Alek, only because his coffee table told him to. Marius was not released from his tower, and he jumped out of it, in the hopes he would feel the salty water one last time.

Yet, the Reaper was there. Ready to sing him back into the reincarnation cycle.

Come along now, to a place free of anger or boredom…

 

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