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Her battered body is strapped into the flipped car behind her, her precious blood leaking onto the concrete. Yet, she doesn’t react. Doesn’t break out into hysterics. Doesn’t break down in tears.
Even as I slowly approach with my skin tingling, her soul doesn’t turn to me in terror. She doesn’t look upon me in fear.
She sits and gazes out at the calm water in peace.
That’s when something in me changes. Something snaps.
It’s not love. Grim Reapers are not capable of love. Although, it feels like… No. It’s not possible.
Reapers are supposed to be immune to feelings, but I sense them circling inside, growing stronger as they fight their way up from the murky depths. Possessiveness, protectiveness, desire, lust.
I want this girl. I need this girl.
One look at her stunning face and I already know I’m about to commit the cardinal sin.
The Soul Collector is not getting her. Not now. Not ever.
Her soul ismine.
She slowly turns to me and smiles sadly.
My legs buckle. I nearly drop my scythe for the first time in a century and a half.
Those lips… So full of color. So full of life. I stare at them in stunned silence, mesmerized by their beauty.
Her brown eyes are like poetry, both mysteriously cryptic and stunningly beautiful. They make what’s left of my soul sing.
I don’t know what to do. I’m at a loss.
My body is humming with energy as I stare at this treasure. There are no angels in this universe, but if there were, she’d be one of them.
Her long black hair is framing her face in a modern style. Normally, it wouldn’t be appealing to me, but with her, it’s utterly perfect.She’sperfect.
The screeching siren of the ambulance cuts through the air as several EMTs flood the bridge, looking for survivors to help.
I don’t look at them. I can’t take my eyes off this girl.
She finally glances back at her lifeless body through the shattered windshield. It’s hanging upside-down in her smashed car, her long black hair covering most of her still face. The seatbelt is the only thing holding her up.
An EMT approaches the car and presses two fingers to her neck. “This one is gone,” he shouts to his colleagues before moving on to the next car.
She looks at herself for a long moment and then slowly turns back to me with her beautiful brown eyes shining with fresh tears.
A sharp pang pierces my chest. I can’t stand to see her look so upset.
“Are you here for me?” she asks in a soft innocent voice.
The possession grows within me. I’ve never wanted anything like I want her.
This girl is all mine. Her soul is all mine. Let the Soul Collector come and try to take her away from me. I fucking dare him to.
“Are you taking me away?” she asks, barely above a whisper.
“No,” I say, forcing out the word. I haven’t spoken in decades. Longer even. My throat is like sandpaper. Grainy and harsh. The words come out coarse and cold. “Your time is not up, sweet soul. You have plenty of life left.”
She doesn’t flinch as I approach her, doesn’t recoil in fear. She just watches me trustingly, lovingly as I reach out my hand.
“Your soul is under my protection,” I tell her as I press my palm onto her upper chest.
