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“Why did you bring me here?”
My thoughts had slowed. Each came through a fog before it reached my consciousness.
He materialized a rag out of shadow. “You were having a breakdown. I thought removing you from the environment was best. These fields are devoid of magic or life. Nothing will bother us.” He dragged the shadow cloth up the length of my arm. The blood had stained the straps of my dress a rich scarlet. “Don’t look,” he commanded.
“For once, I think I agree with you,” I breathed. I avoided thinking about what I just saw. Of what I was covered in. How I'd get home. I was in denial. Free and ignorant of my current life circumstances.
The shadows brushed my collarbone. I shivered. Closed my eyes to darkness.
“Are you cold?” His voice embraced my skin like the shadows had.
“No,” I murmured. He shifted so that his arms wrapped around me from behind. The shadows dripped down my legs. Soft. Warm.
“Where did you acquire the dokkaebi?” Reaper asked.
“The what?” I was on my way to slumber.
“Your goblin. Where did you acquire him? The black market? A shady merchant?” His shadows slid around my body in a soothing cocoon.
“Wouldn’t you love to know, lover boy,” Gaksi huffed.
“Lover—what? I did not invite you here!” Reaper stuttered. For once, he actually sounded a little flustered.
“It’s a barren wasteland. Nobody is invited here,” Gaksi said.
“How did you cross over, goblin?”
“I’ve been between realms longer than you, boy.” Gaksi’s creaky chuckle echoed in the howling wind.
“Seraphim—” Reaper started.
“Seraphim? Not gumiho this time?” I questioned.
“It's rare for a gumiho to seek vengeance for others,” Reaper said. “You were also crying over that boy.” His chin pressed down against my hair, head rested on mine. He smelled good, like jasmine and chocolate. “Did you love him?”
Why was he continuously asking me questions? I was tired, the dregs of sleep calling to me. So tired. Yawning, I replied, “Mind your business.”
Adam and I had been stuck in the university dungeons for 24 hours while the police interrogated us. Due to our inability to explain Reaper's incomprehensible rambling, the questions persisted. The picture saved it from being labeled as walking woods hysteria.
The police were extra hard on him because of how adamant he was that he heard the sword talk. But he held his tongue when they asked him if the sword spoke more or less after interacting with me. I would always be grateful to him for hiding that.
For hiding Gaksi, even if he couldn’t hide my interaction with Reaper.
“If you collect the dead, how come nobody’s ever seen you before?” I asked.
Energy sapped out of me every second, and I had limited time to question him for Flora before I passed out.
“You could try reading a book about me some time,” he said dryly. “There’s multiple in your library about me.”
Arrogant demon. “You could try with politeness,” I slurred out. My tongue felt so thick in my mouth. “Most of the books barely mention you.”
“There are multiple messengers on the other side. The Grim Reaper, Thanatos, I am one of many. My recent visibility is because we all take care of our own messes. For instance, the Grim Reaper would greet the ones who were to die at a vampire’s hand. Anyone slighted by the fickle threads of the Fates would be greeted by Thanatos. But the gumiho? She’s an escapee from my universe. So she’s my mess to clean up.”
“Hmm,” I groaned out. I was dizzy and drifting away.
The shadows crooned around me gently until I was gone.
* * *
