Sometimes, when I saw a human’s past, it felt like a sickening, painful twist to my insides. Humans went through terrible things. Some of them created the nightmares others had to live through. As a Reaper, I saw the good, the bad, and the in-between. They were resilient and wicked. Some deserved to be saved. Others needed a one-way ticket to my could-be mate.
Maybe that’s what I was feeling. Guilt from the Reaper duties we’d ignored. But there were no visions of the chaos. Just that creeping sense of too much. Too much death, too much emotion, too much for our Reaper senses to keep up with.
Then I realized.
Oh, it was my powers.
I was mortal. The sensation of doom was just the emptiness—everything my body lacked was gone.
As I stood, I spotted the last pack of Slim Jims on my nightstand. I pried it open and shoved the sticks into my back pocket. While I didn’t need constant food as a mortal, the second my power returned, I’d be ravenous again.
I supposed I’d need a new type of snack to carry around now that the mortal world was spiraling into chaos.
The uneasiness still lingered as I stepped out of my room.
The second I heard my mother’s awful cries; I froze at the top of the stairs leading into the ballroom. I didn’t need to go further to know what was happening.
At the bottom of the stairs stood Maureen.
“Go get August,” she said. “I’ll get the others.”
My throat was painful as if I’d swallowed nails.
???
The feeling of despair kept growing inside me. The family had gathered. Resting his elbows on his knees, Dad leaned forward on the couch. Mom was in front of him, holding onto him like he was her lifeline—and I realized he was. They were the glue that kept everything together.
Hades, even the mortal world…
The heartache suffocating the walls was unbearable. There was so much crying—especially my own.
Dad was leaving us.
His body peeled away as if he were a dandelion caught in the wind. Only this wind was the worlds falling apart, and my dad was leaving with it.
Despite most of his face already fading, Dad offered Mom a half smile.
“It’s okay, love,” he whispered.
“You promised me eternity.” She was crying.
I gripped my chest as I watched their love—like I’d watched it all my life.
“We never stay apart for long,” he murmured. “Our goodbyes never last.”
With what remained of his hand, Dad pressed his palm against Mom’s cheek.
“But on the chance that I’m wrong…know that an eternity wouldn’t have been enough time with you. I would have wanted more.”
Mom’s body trembled as her sobbing worsened.
“I expect you to continue fighting as if I’m still here,” Dad’s voice carried authority even as he scattered like pieces. “I know you’re all tired and hurting, but it’s not just about us. If the Devil walks through that portal when it opens, humanity is done for, and you’ll just be… gone.”
With one last smile, Dad added. “Look after each other and please watch over your mother for me.”
The Grim Reaper faded away. Suddenly gone.
My eyes widened.
