REAPER ─ kaz brekker

thirteen; cull

013;         CULL

ONYX VISSIER HAD A CERTAIN TALENT FOR DEATH. 

Death followed her like a shadow, always present, always there, though not always seen. It was her servant and her master, her captivity and her escape, her way up and down the lofty ladders of the hierarchy in Ketterdam. Her name sent whispers through crowds of locals. No one kills like the Reaper, they said. She's like a phantom. She culls without mercy.  Onyx was seen when she wished to be seen, and she was as good as a ghost caught between the waking world and afterlife, whenever she willed it as well. And it was truly a shame that Jan Van Eck didn't have the wit and the sense to know this. But unlike the rest, he would see is death coming for him. 

In truth, Onyx had no idea how long she'd been here. Wherever here was. 

She remembered in quick, stuttering flashes as she woke-- the fight on Vellgeluk, the Tidemakers, the Squaller that lifted her into the air, then plummeting back toward the earth, only to be seized and dealt two astonishing blows that snatched her from the waking world. When she returned to her senses, Onyx had known nothing but the cool stones beneath her body, the ropes binding her ankles and wrists, the blindfold wrapped about her eyes, and a throbbing headache. At some point, after an eternity of wriggling and scraping, Onyx managed to work the blindfold down enough to shake it from her face and down to her neck. 

She had never experienced such a deep set panic before. The room was pitch black and rather small, but even that had been difficult to judge. A door on the other side of the room had been barely visible at the time as well, just the faintest outline. Now, she knew it was at least ten paces   away from the center of the room for Bajan, maybe fifteen for her. He was taller than her, at least from what she could tell from a distance. Bajan never got close enough for her to really tell much about him beyond his age and the fact that he'd probably never experienced the throttling horror of being tossed over a bridge and into a canal. Onyx had imagined, after their very first encounter, what it might be like to do that to him. 

Even now, as she was hauled up into a chair by a pair of guards, she wondered how satisfying of a splash his body would make in the waters. The bitch probably doesn't even known how to swim.  Her bound wrists were moved from her back and up in front of her, before her blindfold was lifted and a tray was set at the table before her. Bajan was standing nearby, close enough for her see his expression in the lantern light, but far enough away that she couldn't attempt to harm him. 

Truthfully, Bajan was pleasant enough. He always removed her blindfold gently. Well, had removed her blindfold gently. The first time he'd removed it and came into her periphery, Onyx had lunged from her chair in a fit of panicked, blind rage. Since then, he'd been accompanied by at least two guards and typically only stayed to try and force her to eat and talk. She assumed Van Eck thought he was the perfect person to try and coax information out of her. He was young, perhaps only a couple years older than Onyx, and rather good looking and charming. It hadn't worked thus far. 

Onyx blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted. She wasn't sure how long she'd been here, it was impossible to tell day from night when there weren't any windows. But it was long enough. The few meals they'd attempted to give her had gone half eaten, at best. The one before her was no different, not really. She eyed the tray. Van Eck had the sense to not give her any cutlery, at least.  The bowls were different this time around too, it seemed. 

The day or, what felt like the day prior, when Bajan delivered her food, Onyx had taken the liberty of unceremoniously pretending to faint. The guards had hauled her up into the chair and, appearing to adjust herself in her seat, Onyx let her eyes roll back into her skull before she fell to the side, tipping the tray over on the way down. The ceramic shattered. She nabbed whatever piece she could and shoved it into her waistband. The guards and Bajan weren't any the wiser.