Taming the Darkness Read online

  “Lighten up,” I cheer. “You’re around Michael too much.”

  Raphael crosses his arms. “Well, we do lead God’s army together.”

  Waving my hands up, I say, “Yeah, but you guys are so uptight.”

  He nudges his head down to the girl. “In front of a human, yes.”

  “Are you telling me there are angelic keggers?”

  He nods his head. “Yes, you should come.”

  Totally shocked, I yell, “Really?”

  “No,” he replies. “But you should come to see us more often.”

  “I fit in in hell better.” A tightness forms in my chest and I have to look away from him.

  “That’s not true,” Raphael groans. “You’re half good.”

  “Half saved and half fallen. Blah, blah, blah.”

  He comes over and touches my shoulder. Ugh it feels so good. An angel’s touch is better than anything you could ever imagine. It’s love. It’s home. It’s purity. It’s a part of God reaching into your soul. It’s healing. I quickly brush his hand off. Raphael steps closer to me and forces me to look at him. “Harness your good side. You do have one.”

  Smirking, I say, “Maybe if you had more keggers I’d come.” I don’t want to be having this conversation. It’s making my skin crawl.

  Whispering ever so quietly, he says, “I see when you go to hell.”

  My stomach tightens. “Whatever,” I reply, with a blasé attitude. He’s hitting way too close to home here.

  “It’s not as often as you’d like us to think.”

  Now, feeling pinned and I snap at him. “Again, whatever Raphael. I have a job to do.” I turn away from him and head for the door. “Take care of her,” I spit out the last part.

  “Raven,” Raphael groans. “Please…”

  Holding up the peace sign, I yell, “See ya!” With that I leave him to do his magic. He will heal her and make her right. She won’t remember a thing. It’s best that way. Now, onto the fun part of my job. The part I like to do the most.

  I walk into the bedroom. Tyrone is still pinned up against the wall, writhing in pain. “Set me free,” he cries.

  “I freed your captive. You just made it so much worse on yourself.” I saunter over to him and cross my arms.

  “What do you mean?” He stammers. “Who are you?”

  Putting my hand to my chest, I reply, “My name’s Raven. You shouldn’t be so concerned with who I am. You should be concerned about what I am.”

  Tyrone shakes his head. “What are you?”

  With a sinister grin, I whisper, “I’m a reaper.” This is my favorite line; it sends chills down your spine.

  “What’s a reaper?” He whines in pain.

  Of course. It’s always the same. “I reap souls,” I slither, walking up to him. “It’s sorta my job, and I’m really good at it.”

  He looks completely confused. “What?”

  Great. “Have you heard of the Grim Reaper?”

  “Yes,” Tyrone replies, vigorously nodding his head.

  I lean in. “He’s like our origin.” Tyrone still stares at me. “Ugh,” I groan. “All humans have a soul. I reap the bad ones.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Tracing my finger down his chest, I pull back quickly and clench my fist. “I’m going to rip your soul from your body. Detach it, so to speak. It’s really painful.”

  “You’re going to kill me?” Tyrone cries.

  “Your body, sure,” I declare. “Your soul goes straight to hell. I hand deliver you.”

  “No, please, no!”

  I roll my eyes; his cries are nothing I haven’t heard before. And I’ve never backed out of a reaping. “Oh, here we go. You guys are always the same. Please, no. Please. I didn’t mean it. God, forgive me. PLEASE.” I clasp my hands together like I am praying dramatically. He stares at me in horror. I lean into him. “Go ahead. Say it. You know you want to.”

  He puffs his chest out. “God has to forgive me.”

  “God doesn’t have to do anything. That’s not how it works.”

  Looking very sure of himself, Tyrone nods. “If I say sorry, he has to.”

  “Really?” I counter sarcastically. “You don’t say. Wow.” I pause and look at the floor. “If it’s that easy I will be out of a job. Go ahead. Try.”

  Tyrone looks up to the ceiling. “Please forgive me.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “The stuff I’ve done,” Tyrone replies.

  I laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not going to work. Try again.”

  “I’m…not…sure…” he says, shaking his head.

  “You’re not even going to try!” I yell, throwing up my hands. “What? You make it too easy.” I walk up to him and put my hand on his forehead and push his head against the wall. “Come here.”

  “Wait! Wait!” He cries.

  Sighing, I look at him. “What?”

  “What do you mean my soul goes to hell?”

  Oooo, show time. “Hell,” I reply, matter-of-factly. “Wanna see.” I wave my hand over the floor and a great heat rises as the floor opens to an abyss. There is screaming and moaning. The desperate torture of lost souls. A demon looks up at us. His eyes blaze red.

  Tyrone starts screaming. “Oh my God. Oh my God! I’m sorry. Please, no.”

  The floor seals back up and I look up at Tyrone. “You do have the chance to repent.”

  “I repent! I repent!”

  Pressing my lips together, I ask, “Do you have any idea what it means to repent?”

  “Ask for forgiveness?”

  Wow, this guy is so bright, I’m blinded by his brilliance. Ugh. “You have to confess what you’ve done and then your soul has to be sincerely sorry. Then you ask God for forgiveness.”

  “I thought I would die and then would be judged.”

  I shake my head. “No, not if you’re really bad. Sometimes we get a little antsy and can’t wait. Anyway, you’re my mark today.”

  “How do you know it’s me?” He asks defiantly.

  “You smell like death,” I reply, smelling his shirt.

  He tilts his head down and smells his shirt. “No, I don’t. I smell fine.”

  “Your soul smells like death.”

  Tyrone shakes his head. “What does that mean?”

  “Your soul is dying. It’s turning so black that it’s like a festering sore. Slowly, eating away and dying.”

  A look of horror crosses his face. “Oh my God.”

  I snort. “You’re asking for forgiveness and then take the lord’s name in vain. There’s a good idea.”

  “Shit,” he snaps.

  “Oh, there’s an even better attempt,” I laugh.

  “What do I need to do?” He asks.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I answer, “Confess to what you’ve done.”

  “I’m not sure…”

  My hands fall and I blankly stare at him. “You don’t even know what you’ve all done.”

  “No…”

  “Okay, I’ll help. Hold on for this rollercoaster.” I put my hands on both sides of his head to keep him still and look into his eyes. Now, here’s the scary part. It’s time to peer into his soul. I see the reflection of my silver eyes in his and we’re off. Tyrone starts screaming. It must be scary seeing every evil thing you’ve done in fast forward. He’s seeing it from the opposite side as it truly happened. I assume that’s the scariest thing you could ever witness. I ignore the playback of his memories. It’s not my journey to watch. It’s his.

  Finally, he jerks and it stops. He’s whimpering and crying. The only thing holding him up are the blades. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, as the tears fall. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

  “Are you truly sorry? Not, I’m sorry because I’m scared shitless.”

  He quickly looks up at me. “You swore.”

  “I’m half fallen angel, baby. Half bad. Half very bad.”

  “What?”

  Stretching out my hands, I hold up one. “My father is
a fallen angel.” I put up the other hand. “My mother was a good angel.”

  Tyrone shakes his head. “Was?”

  “Pretty sure it’s a bad thing to sleep with a fallen angel,” I laugh.

  “She died?”

  “No, she got booted out of heaven. She’s not a fallen but pretty close.”

  His lip is quivering and I smile, the dark side coming through. The pleasure from the pain I’m seeing. “So, you’re a reaper.”

  I put my hands on my hips proudly. “One of the best.”

  “How is one good at reaping?”

  “Detaching a soul from a body isn’t easy,” I answer. “It’s like a fine surgery. If I screw up, your soul will be broken. There’s no coming back from a broken soul.”

  “What’s a broken soul?”

  “No way to repent anymore,” I reply. “It’s kind of being like in a coma. Seeing everything going on around you but never being able to speak or do anything.”

  Tyrone stammers, “That sounds better than hell.”

  “Oh, my child, you’re wrong. You can still repent in hell. It’s just a thousand times harder.”

  “You can go from hell to heaven?” He gasps.

  “Yes,” I reply, playing with one of my nails. “Crap, I broke one.”

  He looks angry. “You’re worried about your nails. We are talking about my soul.”

  “Oh yes,” I say. “We were.” Looking at him, I say, “After everything you’ve done, now you are worried about your soul. Rape, torture, stealing, and the most important, murder.”

  “I didn’t believe in God,” Tyrone snaps.

  “And now you do?” I counter. “Interesting. Do you really believe or are you just trying to escape damnation? Your repentance hangs in the balance.”

  His eyes narrow. “What did God ever do for me when I was a kid?”

  Ah. So, the truth comes out. “What happened when you were a kid, Tyrone?”

  There’s a battle in his eyes but he doesn’t say anything. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh Honey, but it does matter. If it affects the way you see God, it matters. Tell me. I won’t judge.”

  “No,” he hisses.

  Time to bring out the light. I drop all guards and reach out. I gently put my hand on the side of his face. Tyrone takes a deep breath in and starts crying. It’s angelic touch but I only use it when I have to. “Tell me, Tyrone. What happened?”

  “He locked me up…in a closet.”

  I put my other hand on the side of his face. “Tell me Tyrone.”

  “He did bad things to me. Told me to shut up and take it.”

  My cold heart breaks at moments like this. “Let it out Tyrone.”

  Suddenly, his eyes flash cold and he sneers. “It doesn’t matter. I will get my hands on your pretty neck and kill you.”

  In a flash, I pull out the seraph blade from his hand and spin around, stabbing the air behind me. There is a screeching cry. I pull the blade back, as a body falls to the ground. “A demon against a reaper is never a good idea,” I spit out.

  It boils and burns and evaporates in the air. I turn back to Tyrone. He looks like he’s aged twenty years. “I’m so tired.”

  “It’s in you to repent,” I whisper, tilting his head up. “See it within yourself. You are not lost.”

  “There is no God,” he seethes. “This is all a dream. I will wake up and I will kill that bitch and then I will take another one. No one can stop me.”

  “Hmmm,” I hum. Thrusting my hand out, I shove it into his chest. I feel his soul slither around my hand. It’s cold. Like ice. It’s supposed to be warm, hot even. Pleasurable. This is pain and sickness. He looks into my eyes. My heart hurts. Every time. Damn light. “Repent,” I whisper. “Please.”

  “Fuck. You,” he enunciates.

  I shake my head. “I can’t fix you. I’m sorry.” I yank out the other seraph blade and shove him onto his knees. I bend his head back and say, “I’m so sorry.” Using my powers, I hold him completely still. Bending over I place my mouth over his. Gently, I start to draw his soul out. I hear him screaming in my head from utter terror and pain. I keep drawing him out. This is the hardest part. The actual reaping. I do it slowly and so far I have only broken one soul. They fought so hard, that I couldn’t hold on. Now, I take my time. I will never do that again.

  Finally, his body falls and I take deep breath. Oh god, this is the shitty part, holding in the soul. I burp and feel a little better. I walk over to his laptop and open it up. All his memories are inside of me, because, well, he’s inside of me. I open Word and start a letter. My name is Tyrone Hollbrook and I’ve killed six women. Here’s my story…

  When I am done, I take him onto the porch. Using my powers, I make his body stand on the ledge. I wait for it and wait for it, then I hear screaming from below. I flick my wrist and he jumps. Down he goes. SPLAT.

  Ah, my dark side is back. I walk to the middle of the room and wave my hand. The hole to hell opens up again. Ugh. I’m not supposed to hate this as much as I do, but I will never tell a single soul that. With a leap, I jump down into the depths of despair.

  I land nimbly on the ground. Man, is it hot down here. I put the blades back together and then thrust out my hand. Now, I have a seraph sword. Kind of need it in hell. The demons around me hiss. Suddenly, an arm is around my shoulder. I look to my left. “I didn’t bring her with.”

  Azrael smiles. “Of course not, you let Raphael have her. I could have had so much fun…”

  “I’m going to shove this up your ass and turn in you into a skewer,” I state.

  “You like me too much,” Azrael purrs. “Let’s walk.”

  Begrudgingly, we walk through the streets. There are souls pinned up against walls and against torture machines. Hell is everything you expect it to be. Part of me feels at home down here and that scares me. Finally, I look at him. “I don’t like you Azrael. I tolerate you.”

  “You like me, don’t lie to yourself,” he says. “I warm the darkness of your soul.”

  “That’s not true,” I snap.

  “Struck a nerve, did I?” He laughs. “Ooo, little reaper is showing some feelings.”

  I grab him and kiss him hard for a few seconds before shoving him away and punching him in the face. “There’s some feelings.”

  He lies on the ground, holding his face, laughing hysterically. “I still think you and I should get together.” He dissipates and then appears directly in front of me. “Think of all the fun we could have.”

  “Whatever Azrael,” I groan, brushing past him.

  Quickly, coming up next to me, Azrael asks, “Is today going to be the big day? We’re all waiting in anticipation.”

  Stopping, I glare at him. “No.”

  “Then give it to me,” Azrael says. “Give it to me, or I will make you hand deliver it to Lucifer.”

  A knot forms in my stomach. That is something I haven’t done yet. “You’re such a…”

  “Jerk, jackass, asshole…there are so many nouns. And you’re in hell, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “You just want the points,” I snort.

  “Yes!” He yells. “I’m on the top of the leader board.”

  “That’s why you want to be my friend,” I state. “I’m the best reaper there is.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Broken souls do us no good. You bring them whole. You have a gift.”

  I snap, “Do you want it or not?”

  Azrael grabs my hips and pulls them against his. “I definitely want it.”

  I smile at him, but his head starts to turn up from the tip of my blade. “I know what I would like right now.”

  Rolling his eyes, Azrael says, “One day, you will give up your virginity. Can’t keep it forever.”

  “I’m not going to give it up to you,” I exclaim. “I’m not into slumming it.”

  “I’m the best there is,” Azrael laughs.

  “Doubtful,” I snort. “Do you want the soul or not?”

  With a sm
ile, Azrael holds out his hands. Bending over, I gently blow out. A black mist comes out of me and forms into a sphere. Azrael squeals like a little girl and it makes my stomach turn. He holds up the sphere to his ear. “Do you hear the screaming?” He then puts it under his nose. “Smell the fear.”

  “You’re twisted,” I say.

  “I’m a demon, baby. I’m twenty shades of fucked up,” he laughs. “So, are you going to hang with us?”

  I give him a look. “What do you think?”

  He comes to my ear and breathes out, “Your dark side wants to.”

  His words pull on me and I close my eyes. “Yes.”

  “Join me for a little game,” Azrael whispers. “Just the two of us.”

  “Leave her alone,” a deep voice growls.

  Shaking out of my stupor, I push Azrael away. “It will never happen. Get off it.”

  Azrael seems very pleased with himself. He bounces from side to side. “I’m going to go deliver this. It’s smells extremely evil. 1000 points for me!”

  “Go. Away.”

  He turns, looking very proud of himself, and walks away. I turn to the figure next to me. He smiles. “Hi Dear.”

  “Dude, Dad…why are you in hell?” I ask.

  “I’m a fallen angel, Honey, it comes with the territory,” he replies. “I didn’t want you to fall prey to Azrael. He has it out for you.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “He asked me to marry him once.”

  “I can’t really show you by example, but I hope if you bring someone home, it’s not a demon.”

  “I don’t have emotions like that, Dad. I’m a reaper, or haven’t you noticed?” I’m not having this conversation. Turning, I start to walk away.

  He follows me. “You have a light side. You can feel love.”

  “Did you love Mom?” I snap, angrily. “Or did you just rip her from heaven for shits and giggles.”

  His face turns serious. “I never wanted that for your mother.”

  “You knew what was going to happen, so obviously you didn’t care at all, otherwise you would have left her alone.”

  A sad look crosses his face. “Raven, it’s not as easy as that.”

  “You’re incapable of love. I’m incapable of love. That’s all there is to it.” I keep walking.

  “Stop,” he groans, grabbing me and forcing me to halt in place. “I care about your mother.”