Killing Me Softly (Reaper Romance)

Chapter Six: 3 Simple Rules of Necromancy

Briseis jolted upright with a start as she broke free of her nightmare. She cried out, but it fell on deaf ears. Her frantic eyes tried to focus through the darkness, then after a few moments, she blew out a sight of relief.

She was in her apartment. In her very own bed.

It must have been a nightmare. Wasn't it? But how did she get home? She didn't even remember how she got there. But it felt real. All of it. She soon got the answer to her question when she pulled back the covers to put her feet on the floor. She froze was a single black feather fluttered to the floor. If the size of the feather had anything to do with the scale of what it came from, either Big Bird went goth or it came from that thing that came to visit her. The dark stranger.

Oh, he was real. She could still feel his touch on her shoulders and the chill it possessed. The haunting words he spoke. She never felt so exposed, so terrified. She could close her eyes and still see him. She knew that gruesome face. The skull beneath the darkness. And she felt that morbid aura and energy it carried with it. Briseis encountered that type of energy many times before, whenever she reached into herself to bring someone back from the dead. It was on a cusp between serenity and absolute fear. The feeling one felt when they were about to cross over. Briseis wrapped her arms around herself, fighting the chill. She knew that face the creature possessed.

Everyone did.

It was the face of the Grim Reaper. The Pale Rider. It was the face of Death. And Briseis stared right into that face ...and tried to challenge it.

Another shiver ran through her. She didn't know if that was brave or just plain stupid. In any event, she was still alive, so thankfully if it was stupidity, maybe it saved her.

'God looks after fools and babies', her mother's words popped into her head. It was something she used to say whenever Briseis would do something ridiculous. Usually with a follow up of, 'And I can't figure out which one you are right now.'

But the fact that she was alive proved that last night was a warning. Death was telling her to back off if she knew what was good for her.

But why the threat? Is Death keeping score or something? Briseis never liked a bully and right now, she was feeling bullied. Terrorized into submitting to Death's will, because he was pissed she decided to reverse a few of his bad calls. Death wouldn't understand that life is a blessing and she had a blessing to give it. Why else would she have this gift? He wouldn't get it because dying is all he probably knows. She couldn't even imagine Death with remorse, only seeing souls as a means to keep score. The thought started comical, but it began to make her sick at the idea of it. Keeping score like some asshole at a bowling alley.

But her mother was on that scoreboard.

The same pang that hit her gut, pummeled her heart and she choked out a sob. If she had the chance, she would have screwed Death's scoreboard again by bringing her mom back. She would not have thought twice about it and faced her fate gladly.

She was stolen from me. Plain and simple. It wasn't her time, because I wasn't done loving her. 

Briseis put her hand over her heart, feeling the hurt and burst out crying. It came out fierce and vocal, wanting to scream out her frustration at so many things. The attack. The fact she was alone in this, and the betrayal of losing her mother so tragically. Briseis looked up to the ceiling, wondering if anyone was looking down at her. 

Maybe her mother. 

She covered her mouth to try and steady her uneven breathing, still shaking from the grief that seemed so fresh at times when thinking about it. And just as hard and fierce as the pain came, it started to subside again, allowing her to swallow and take a few more controlled breaths.