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Her black wings spread to the wind, taking as much air unto them as they could. She smiled at me sadly, her yellow irises set out against her black eyes. The slitted pupils tried to find some comfort in my own, but there was none. Her face was mared with with black scars, all extending from her forehead down to her chest, where they conjoined onto one spot, and split out again to cover the rest of her body. Two red scars followed from her forhead, over eyes, and stopped at her chin. Two others started under her eyes, and followed the jaw until they stopped at the corner of her lips. Her left shoulder bore a black skull the had galring red eyes, and also sent black scars travelling down her arm.

She was scarred forever, and I? I was the cause of it. I was the reason she had no heart beat, no breath in her lungs. She had become the reaper, and I had been the one who had killed her. Her long maroon hair was temping to touch as the wind made the soft curls shudder down her back. Tan skin set out against a bright red shoulderless top. The sleaves hung down uncerimoniously, hiding the fingerless gloves only half concieling the scars that ran down her fingers. Dark blue jeans, black boots, and dirt everywhere. Had the wind her wings created brought the sand up?

I looked back at my body and sighed. It didn't matter anymore. I was dead now, ready to join her in hell for my actions. Her smile almost cracked, her facade as the smiling angel almost broke. "No.." A whisper on the wind? Wait, no, it was her! "I will not be joining you in hell, for I have my own duties to perform." she said quietly.

I stared. No, go there alone! I will not! I won't! "I won't!" I yelled. She shook her head, still smiling sadly. She reached out to me, almost pleadingly. But I backed away, and her smile dissapeared. The wind became foul and a grimace took her kindness out of her eyes.

"Not alone..." I whispered. Was I begging her? I couldn't tell.

She shook her head. "No, never alone.." I had to strain to hear her. "All your enemies, all your friends, they were not forgiven." No. This I could not except. "You are not going to be alone. Ever." Her voice was bolder now, all the sorrow gone from her stance. A very cold grip on my arm, and suddenly, I could hear their screams. Each one she had come for, each ones soul brought to see their own sins in hell. And what was she amidst this chaos? A smiling crying demon, for her tears were red blood, turning black bile as soon as they hit the ground. I felt her tug, and suddenly, I was fighting. No, I would not, not without a fight! Her eyes narrowed, and suddenly I had to stop fighting. A scythe was being held to my jugular.

"Your thoughts are in vain." she whispered in my ear. I shuddered. A vile, vile creature she seemed to me, as if I had once felt lust for this thing. Then, suddenly, I was thrusted forward, over the cliff. I thought my scream would forever echo in my ears. Shadows strangled my cry as fire burnt my limbs, rocks crushing my body. The pain! The pain! And it all stopped. I looked about me and saw darkness, a tunnel for ever led by very, very few torches. "It's your curse..." A whisper? Where is she? Where am I? I think I'm screaming again. And then I see them, swaying as they walk down the tunnel towards me. My friends, my enemies. All of them armed, deadly weapons held in their limp arms. I'm worried. I back off. I call out their names, and they see me. Smiles, broken, bloody smiles. I can only scream as they descend upon upon me. Killing me again and again. Scream, yes scream, and perhaps somebody will hear you.

I'm looking for help, but can find no comfort in her eyes as she watches me die again and and again. She's smiling a very sad smile, and her eyes are very agonized, and her tears are so very red. But from her, I can feel the excitement building, as the smile turns very menacing. Glitter of teeth set against a background faded red. She's enjoying this. This reaper girl, barely seventeen, is enjoying my killings, with a very happy, maniacal and grim excitement running through her veins. This is all because she is witnessing her justification. I was her murderer, and now, in her own twisted way, she has made herself mine.