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“I never said I wanted to be a Reaper.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I’m going to save my family.”
I kicked up the engine, watching Bulldog and my brother’s defeat as I sped off.
I’d shut everyone out after the accident. My wife and daughter had perished and I had been left for dead. But I didn’t die. I survived. And there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t want to go with them. Why didn’t he take me too?Why?
Whatever lesson God wanted to teach me, I didn’t want to take part in. I wanted my wife and child by my side, and that was all that mattered to me. My little girl, so full of life. They’d been my whole world.
The day they died was the day I picked up drinking. That poisonous venom ran through my blood inhibiting me from taking my own damn life. But I didn’t stop trying until Bulldog found me, intoxicated and incoherent. That’s when he dragged my ass to the hospital, they pumped my stomach and I turned around and did it again. And there he was again, dragging my ass to the hospital. Telling me he’s got my six when all I wanted was to take my own goddamn and be left alone to rot.
It took me months to realize this motherfucker wasn’t going to let me die, so I went a different route. I jumped off the damn roof. Broke my left leg, three ribs, and had a concussion. That’s when they confined me into a damn psych ward. But he came by every fucking day to make sure I stayed alive.
It took me a year to force half the darkness out of my head. The other half remained in the death toll that followed me. I was the tracker for the Royal Bastards. Throughout the years the MC had taken a more twisted turn and I lived off it. The members didn’t want to face it but we had to stand our ground. The Bloody Scorpions were constantly fucking us over, and if we didn’t pull power, they’d have the upper hand.
So I took it upon myself to make sure they knew our name. That everyone from Port Townsend to New York knew our fucking name. And word quickly spread of the Royal Bastards MC and what that symbol represented.
Bulldog hated me for it, but he was grateful either way. It’s what he wanted. Representation. And in order to gain respect we had to take it. With every life I took it brought me closer to that darkness I craved. I wallowed in it, it became my shelter, and eventually it would be my demise.
1
SPECTRE
The hours became a blur as I focused on getting where I needed to be. Dawn had come and gone, and the sun was already setting once again. Streams of purples and pinks covered the sky, the last little bit of beauty before darkness fell.
I geared the bike down the highway, approaching the road where so many of the Bastards had ventured. Each of them committing their souls to hell. I figured my conversation with Lucifer was long overdue. I was well on my way down to him anyway, there was no redeeming my soul, so I might as well cut a deal.
Lightning struck, illuminating the eeriness of the night as I revved my bike down that desolate, dimly lit road. In that terrifying moment, a pair of blood red eyes pierced through the darkness and met my gaze. I quickly approached the dark shadow lurking in the center of the crossroads, but just as I drew nearer, my bike inexplicably jerked, sending me tumbling against that rough, uneven pavement below.
The deafening roar of thunder and another flash of lightning marked the foreboding night as I found myself sprawled on the rain-soaked ground, my motorcycle lying a few feet away, clearly worse for wear. Pain seared through my body as I struggled to get up, determination overriding the ache that surged through my limbs. The wind picked up and the storm’s relentless fury was a fitting backdrop to the evil I was about to behold.
Through the curtain of rain and darkness, I glimpsed the shadowy figure still lurking at the crossroads, a sinister presence whose mere existence defied everything that I knew as being reality. Those two crimson eyes pierced the night, staring straight into the depths of my soul. Fear gnawed at me, but I couldn't look away. This is what I’d come here for, and with a heavy heart and trembling legs, I approached the ominous figure. The rain continued to pour, soaking through my clothes as I stood face-to-face with the demon, its form shifting and swirling like thick, black smoke. The figure never fully formed.
“Speak,” it hissed.
"I've heard you have the power to make deals," I said, my voice steady but laced with desperation.
The demon turned to me, its voice a sinister whisper, "I do, mortal. But deals with me always come with a price. And that price is steep.”
“I don’t care. Name it…your price. I’ll pay it.”
“What is it that you seek?"
I hesitated for a moment, my thoughts consumed by the images of my wife and daughter. The void they’d left behind swallowed me whole. "I want my wife and daughter back," I declared, determination ringing in my voice.
The demon's evil eyes bore into mine, probing my soul. "Why?" it hissed, its voice dripping with curiosity. "Why do you desire this?"
Tears welled up in my eyes as I spoke, my voice quivering with raw emotion. "Because they were everything to me," I whispered, my words heavy with longing and pain. "I can't go on without them. I'll do anything to have them back, even if it means sacrificing my own soul."
The demon's eyes glinted, and a wicked grin played upon its shadowy features. Although I couldn’t make it out, I could feel the judgment pouring out of it. It chuckled and chills ran up my spine.
“Humans are so weak. Very well," it murmured, "your soul in exchange for their lives. Just remember what I said, such deals with the shadows come with consequences that you may not yet comprehend."
I nodded, the weight of my decision hovering over me. Desperation had driven me to the crossroads, and now I stood ready to make a pact that would forever alter the course of my fate. I closed my eyes and waited, and then a sudden a chill swept through the air, and the atmosphere grew heavy with what I could only describe as an ancient, sinister feeling. A figure materialized from the shadows, a commanding and terrifying presence that eclipsed the demon's malevolence.
He appeared out of the darkness, looking just like any other human. He didn’t have horns, no clove feet, but I knew instantly who I was standing in front of. My instinct was to fight it, the urge to kneel, so I forced myself to stay very still, standing my ground as best I could.
