Of Monsters and Reapers - CHAPTER 1

Five minutes.

The battle had raged for five minutes.

It was only five minutes. But it had been a painfully slow five minutes. When an adversary is dangerous enough, a situation dire enough, five minutes can feel like a long time.

Five minutes is an eternity.

Mama Wu flew back from the explosion of magic energy. Purple flames had caught onto the shoulder of her kaba, and when she was through skidding back through the sand, she swatted the embers off.

A stone throw away, a pillar of lilac fire rose from the moonlit desert to the skies. At the heart of the pillar was a silhouette of a man. His eyes were lightning, and his screams were thunder. The earth quaked beneath his feet, and wind whipped the dust around him, producing clouds of sand that swirled up the fiery column.

“This is a stubborn one,” Mama Wu muttered, yanking her headwrap loose. She was a petite woman, and her chunky braids seemed too large for her head. They tumbled down to frame her small, stern face, her sable skin sheening with sweat.

Her assistant, Kwami, landed at her side in a crouch. He was a dusky, lean boy with cropped hair, in a black suit and dress shoes. As he stood, he patted down the embers flickering on his trousers, and adjusted his glasses. “This isn’t going very well,” he said, twirling the sword in his hand.

“Where are the others?” Mama Wu said, right before the pillar blew another gust of wind, trembling the ends of their hair and clothes.

“Master Shi and Miss Mara are on the other side of the pillar. Hikari was knocked out by the last wave of fire.”

Mama Wu frowned. “Damn it, Hikari.”

“We can’t put him down with ordinary magic,” Kwami said. “Looks like it’s up to you to save the day.”

“When is it not?” Mama Wu grumbled, and sighed. “Stand back.”

Kwami leapt away, distancing himself from the agent of Death by a few hundred feet.

Mama Wu rolled her head around to loosen her neck. She threw a hand out to her side, and an item began to materialize into her grasp, drawn into this world by crackling crimson light. The item was a sickle. As her fingers tightened around the handle of the blade, wings of the same crimson energy sprouted behind her, stretching up to five meters on either side. Her irises faded to ceramic white.

“I will only say this one more time, Mr. Turkson,” she said, taking slow but firm steps towards the man in the pillar of fire. Her voice carried with a haunting reverb. “Stand down.”

If Mr. Turkson could hear her, he didn’t show it. He raised his palms towards her.

The fireball was the size of a truck. It streaked out of the pillar, striking Mama Wu and engulfing her in an ear-shattering explosion. Fire and dust twisted and swished at the point of impact.

With a wave of her hand, Mama Wu dismissed the purple flames, casting off the foreign fire like a dirty blanket into the wind.

“Sorry for this,” she said, as she spread her feet apart, poising for attack. “Then again, you are barely real. This is mercy really. Yes. It is mercy.”

And she stepped.

Her movement was wind, and sound, and light. She was there, and then she was not. She was in the pillar of fire, behind Mr. Turkson, her sickle slick with blood.

It took a second for Mr. Turkson to realize there was a gash in his side, and that it was spraying ruby life. He let out a low moan, and shook from the shock. The pillar dissipated with a resounding rush, like the final breath of a dying giant.

Deafening silence settled upon the desert.

Mr. Turkson grabbed his side and fell to his knees. He looked up at Mama Wu, as she walked over to stand before him.

“I-I couldn’t help myself,” he whispered. His eyes filled with tears.

“I know,” Mama Wu said, matching the softness of his tone. The edge of her sickle glowed, as she pushed it against his forehead. His temples rippled like pools, as the curved blade sunk into his flesh. There was no blood, no pain, no suffering.

He opened his mouth and his soul, like a luminous vapour, tumbled out and over his lips. The vapour danced up to the sickle, and disappeared into the cold metal surface. Mr. Turkson’s shell fell onto its side.

Mama Wu let out a sigh of relief, as her sickle and wings faded away.

“Hm,” Kwami said, appearing next to her. “That was fast. A personal best, I think.”

“This is all quite upsetting,” Mama Wu murmured. “What is this, the fifth one this week?”

“The sixth,” Kwami said. “I hear there was an eruption in Cairo yesterday afternoon.”

“Very upsetting.”

“I suppose at this point there really isn’t much room for doubt, is there?”

“No,” said Mama Wu. “The trials have failed. Tell the others. I will recommend to the Council that we initiate an immediate global recall.”

“Uh oh,” Kwami muttered, with a sigh. “That’s a lot of unhappy reapers.”

“Well, it’s either that or watch the world burn to the ground.”

“And what if they resist?” Kwami asked. “Because of course, some of them will.”

“Is the answer not obvious?” Mama Wu said, walking away. “We will kill them.”