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Chapter 14: A Vision of Balloons
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The Reaper's Pet Chapter 15: The Nonperson
The senior nuns at the children’s home said they discovered me inside a cardboard box on the porch. Oldest sob story in the book. Except when you were the main character of that story, it was a whole lot tougher to accept. There were nights when lying in bed at night the loneliness would come so fiercely I wondered if I wouldn’t be doing the world a favor if I ceased to exist, and I’d stifle my crying with the pillow. Or sometimes at my hideout on the roof of Nuestra Señora de la Buen Viaje, a voice would urge me to jump off the tiles onto the courtyard four stories below. As in any other institution, there was a great deal of brainwashing involved in the business of children’s homes. All the other orphans spoke of a “forever family” like it was the most natural thing in the world, like there was nothing wrong with every one of them in the first place. They would pose to have their pictures taken like right-as-rain puppies with their eyes eating up half their faces. I imagined if I ch
The Reaper's Pet Chapter 16: The Raven Man
Day by day, my abilities grew. Being one of a kind, I felt as though I had been cast down a dried-up well where I was to spend the rest of my life in solitary confinement. Looking back, I can’t help but marvel at myself for surviving the isolation with a maturity and courage rare among children. On the other hand, it also feels as though most of my childhood passed me by while I was in some sort of trance. On my own, I learned how to control my talents and to avoid exerting myself. I became wary of very old items that had passed through too many hands as these could be damaging to both mind and spirit. During the couple of times I had to learn the hard way, I was invariably left drained. I also learned to stay away from objects that belonged to those who had already crossed over. In the same way I chose to keep silent about the balloons and their morbid significance, I knew there were things humans weren’t supposed to meddle with. Because of my extreme unconventionality, the supervis
The Reaper's Pet Chapter 17: A Glimpse of Fate
I gingerly lowered my body into a crouch and my hand trembled as I reached for the thrown glove. My fingertips grazed the black leather. It was enough. This was the reading I had: At some unknown juncture in time, the whole sky would be covered by a flock of ravenlike creatures as far as the eye could see. They formed an endless, waving parade of dark flags as if to call forth armies against a weakened ruler. This deluge swept and flowed ceaselessly with an entomo-mechanical roar and in its heart, a flame-wrapped titan was laying waste to human cities. It was an Apocalyptic sight and sound. All sources of light were missing in the heavens and the days of darkness stretched on to eternity. The weakened lord was being engulfed by the swarm of ravens and he was crying out in an alien yet universal plea for help. Within earshot a figure, shadowy and contorted, turned its back on him. A sinking feeling told me I knew exactly who the figure was. It was me. Many psychic experiences had give
The Reaper's Pet Chapter 18: Homeschool Hell
“Good evening,” I greet, walking on my hocked hind legs into Death’s office. Septimus utters a stream of obscenities in classical Latin and ancient Greek. If sentences could consist entirely of abuse, he’s producing exactly those. I can tell even if the ubiquitous skeletons (My Helter-Skeltals, as Septimus fondly calls them) hadn’t erupted in braying laughter. I feel like an exorcist about to face the biggest demon-possession case of all time, but then it’s probably no more than what inner-city school teachers face every day, I try to reassure myself. As soon as I think this, Septimus generates a ball of fire and flings it straight at me. I scream and escape incineration by the skin of my teeth. Probably not. I’m hissing and spitting like only an actual threatened feline can. Then I notice my backside has been charred and there’s this small matter of a flame on the small tip past my ball tail. A hyperactive skeleton races to put the tremulous fire out. It runs screaming and dragging
The Reaper's Pet Chapter 19: Infernal Affairs
First, a short history lesson from the Lachesis monitors: {In the beginning was darkness. From it, light and life were born. Light was varied, free and unpredictable as embodied by the Spirits of Creation, the Storks. On the other hand, darkness was clean, still and barren as embodied by the Spirits of Destruction, the Ravens. {Between these two camps, a pact was made to govern the comings and goings of life into the mortal realm. The Fates, or the Wyrd Ones, arose upon the principle of three counter-balancing forces: {First was Clotho, who spun the thread of life, the Umballicus, to grant entry into the world by birth or reincarnation. {Second was Lachesis, who calculated and measured that which was duly apportioned and owed. {Third was Atropos, also called the Grim One, who inflexibly cut the thread of life to bring forth death.} I recognize the three characters from Greek mythology and again marvel at how close the ancient Greeks got to actual fact. I assume Septimus is Atro
The Reaper's Pet Chapter 20: Dark Horse
Once in your life you’ll find the perfect love and it’ll be everything you imagined, whether or not you stayed a believer. You’ll find it at the most unexpected time and in the most unassuming place. It masquerades as something commonplace, neither remarkable nor memorable. It just happens. This is the beauty of the whole thing because later when you look back, there’s no landmark by which you can say, “Here it is. This is where love started.” Just this faint recognition of a dream you forgot you ever had and an inescapable, almost frightening sense of rightness, like the softest scrape of tumblers shifting into place as the key fits the lock. This is what Sol and I had. We WERE soulmates, and it pains me now to think I had to lose her for good before I would start believing. Worse, this is the same effect Septimus and I aim to recreate and trap Oriana Conti with. I don’t intend to teach Septimus any of those reverse-psychology seduction techniques that are peddled by pick-up artists
The Reaper's Pet Chapter 21: The Proposition
In the middle of our training, as the deadline draws inexorably closer but Septimus seems to be getting farther and farther away from readiness, he makes a proposition. As per usual, he’s sitting on his throne of bones atop a pedestal minus the ebony desk, and I’m kneeling in front of him in my half-human half-reaper form. {Wampus, hasn’t it occurred to you that there’s a faster and more certain way for me to get what I want?} My furry forehead knits. “There is?” {It is only a possibility, mind you. My need for love may well be a one-off deal, an… urge that I need to get out of my system. In such a case, any human female would suffice. A single experience of human coitus could return me to the very equilibrium we seek. A quick in-and-out operation, so to speak.} As he says this, Septimus isn’t ordering or scheming as is his wont. He isn’t the slightest bit malicious. If anything, he’s embarrassed and nervous. This is the impression that I sense from him and glimpse through
The Reaper's Pet Chapter 22: Above Ground
With a light, reverent touch, the man’s fingers catch and rub the oscillating crucifix of the rosary hanging from the rear-view mirror. This cabbie should be both a religious and superstitious man; in other words, your typical Filipino. Apart from the steadiness of his hands and the deftness with which they weave the taxi in and out of traffic, his aura tells me he’s seen a lot of crazy accidents on the road but never once felt anything because of them – at least nothing weird enough to freak him out and stop him from delivering a fare to their destination. But years of driving a cab sharpens a man’s intuition of people, of the different strangers he picks up on the road. Plus he’s listened enough times to stories of that “psychic” feeling that forebodes a really bad accident or a violent holdup, what the veteran cabbies are fond of sharing. The cabbie (Ray, as introduced by his ID hanging with the rosary) has had his own psychic moment tonight for the first time ever. It came with th
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