Don't Fear The Reaper

{xxiv. we'll be able to fly}

"The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry / And leave us nothing but grief and pain instead of promised joy."

-To A Mouse by Robert Burns

✕✕✕✕✕

I feel like my breath is torn out of my chest.

The Realm of the Reapers.

That dark, forbidden place Mor said was worse than any depressing small town. The place I'm supposedly not allowed to know anything about. Out of all places, he's brought me here?

I know there's no way this or anything relating to this could possibly be on my bucket list. Adrenaline and shock clangs through me, cold and metallic, just like Mor.

My reaper lets go of my hand, leaving it to hang limply at my side. "You've been wanting an inside look into the otherworld for weeks. Here it is."

"Why though?" I'm almost too surprised to add anything else. My eyes, unable to stay on Mor, fly around the wooded grove we're standing in, looking for this 'party' he claims to be taking me to. "I thought this was completely illegal. What suddenly changed that I'm allowed to come?"

"Oh no, you're still not allowed, but..." Mor trails off. His tone is almost smug.

I stare at him. Weeks and weeks of me begging, of him locking up every time I bring up the afterlife, of only getting a few answers here and there... and now I'm in the middle of it all.

If it weren't for the fact that I know it's completely in the realm of possibility, and that my dreams rarely stray from violent flashbacks, I might think it's some weird nightmare. Like something out of the Twilight Zone.

"If I'm not allowed, why am I here?"

That verge-of-tears edge is still in my voice, and I think Mor understands what I'm implying, because he quickly says, "Don't get ahead of yourself, Lila. I just figured I'd give you more of a look into my world, so you know what you're getting yourself into once you pass beyond the realm of the living. No need for further explanation."

At least not now.

I blink. That wasn't my thought - and it wasn't one Mor purposely sent, either. I think I'm beginning to be able to see his normal thoughts, too, just like he can see mine.

I can feel the surprise radiating from Mor as he realizes the same thing just seconds later. As if our minds are fortresses, a gate-like barrier falls down between us. He turns his back to me and begins walking towards the treeline as if nothing just happened, calling to me, "Come, Miss Cabrera, it's not smart to be here by yourself. The party is this way."

My eyes narrow, but I quickly catch up to him. As we walk through the shadows of the ash trees, Mor explains plainly, "I have glamoured you so that you look like a reaper. There are too many reapers in the world - to the point that nobody will think twice if they've never seen you before."

"What if I have to introduce myself?"

"Say you're from Florida. And in the case you run into Amara, who will definitely remember you if you say your real name, say your name's... something gothic."

I think about it for a moment, cocking my head, but Mor interrupts my thought process before I can even come up with an alias past 'Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way'. "You don't need to figure it out right now."

Now, that hint of music is louder, but I don't recognize the genre or melody. As he leads me through the wood, I'm reminded of the masquerade ball in Paris Mor took Kat and I to, all those weeks ago. Somehow, the whole feeling also reminds me of the prom I almost attended. The dance I may have gone to, if it weren't for vodka and broken stop lights and oncoming trucks.