Take Away the Saints

Reaper : Ch 3-6 || trueathenian

CHAPTER 3

The symphony of the old man's violin woke him up. Sunlight streamed in through the single window in the cottage.

The pain had subdued considerably but a constant layer of it still persisted beneath the surface.

"Return my gun and I'll get going," said the Reaper in his cold voice. The old man stopped, "A good morning to you as well!"

Reaper returned silence. He couldn't even get up, let alone walk. But he wanted to test the old man. "There's some tea there. If you can get up, you're welcome to leave."

"Why are you doing this?" asked Reaper.

The old man stopped to give a short laugh, before replying "For reasons you won't understand yet." Saying so he resumed playing his violin. Reaper spent the rest of the day observing the man's routine.

It was fairly simple, he went out for hunting once, chopped a little wood before returning to the cottage. The lunch was a simple vegetable broth, after which he asked Reaper to do his dishes once he was in improved health. "I am not doing anyone else's dishes except mine old man. Do your own bit." Despite that the old man left the dishes in the sink. A similar routine followed night. They barely talked, but what Reaper understood as a certainty was that the man was no amateur. The way he held his rifle and his physique confirmed that that he was skilled.

Reaper tried to recall if he could place the old man from any of the old assassins he knew. Nothing came.

At night, the old man started of his own accord, "You remind me of my younger self, Reaper." He didn't reply. "They gave me bullets and a revolver, and that was all it took to rule Tegna. I shot people left and right, anyone in my path became a victim."

"Then why do you spend your time here? Found a bullet faster than yours."

A distant look developed in the old man's eyes. "No, rather all I found at the top was bullets and more bullets. All going in circles, never stopping. It's weary life and it never leaves you" The Reaper failed to understand what the man referred to. The rest of the night passed in circles.

At the end of second day he was already restless to leave. He could not afford to linger in one place for long. He knew his employer would eventually try to hunt him down. Assuming he had eloped with the object.

That wouldn't have bothered him much on a usual day, but given the situation that could prove fatal.

***

"I hate trees."

Reaper awoke, his senses alert. He could see the old man chopping wood from the window. But the source of the sound was entirely different.

"Never liked them since I was a child." A man in an expensive coat and circular glasses sat on the stool and looked straight at the Reaper. Reaper knew him as the Company man. He handled finances for his employer, that included retrieving cash and goods from reluctant debtors.

The Company man continued, "How they protrude from the ground with their snaky limbs and try in vain to cover the infinite sky. How they loom over you as if portraying how superior they stand."

"But those aren't the only reasons I hate trees," his eyes caught an inhuman gleam, and the morning sunlight reflected on his glasses. Reaper knew immediately that the employer had sent him.

"It is because these trees help humanity survive. And I have lesser love for humans than I have for trees that I can assure you. But if it weren't for these trees, there would be no humans! Ah, look around you, a world, full of hope. Just put a human in the scene and he entirely messes everything up, hungry for power and glory, making up illusionary systems to maintain his ever-waning sanity. His ignorance to everything not related to him makes for a hilarious display of all that the word 'humanity' stands for. I despise the whole idea." The man got up.