Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Desperate Reflections ❯ The Laughing Grim Reaper ( Epilogue )

ANNOUNCEMENT:

 

The sequel Absolute Nexus has gone on hiatus. I have managed to write one chapter but as it is complete crap, I scrapped the entire thing. As of yet, I haven't managed to get my muses to inspire me to write anything else. I do not know if I will ever get to the sequel or not since all my muses have shifted towards Bleach.

 

If I decide to not write the sequel, then I will take down the epilogue so that the ending is just that, an ending. Perhaps after I finish my FF7 fanfiction I will find my muse for Absolute Nexus.

 

I apologize for those of you who have been waiting patiently, but I refuse to post anything that I believe is crap. I don't want to give my readers something shitty to read. I prefer to give you quality.

 

If you have any questions, feel free to send me an e-mail. I will be happy to answer them for you.

 

Thanks! And once again, I am sorry.

 

Epilogue: The Laughing Grim Reaper

 

“Has she awoken?”

 

The voice echoed in the brightly lit hallway, high and nasally with a distinct note of disdain. It was the type of tone that crawled up your spine and left a nasty taste in your mouth. It was the type that sent nightmares to even the most innocent and made you feel dirty, even if you had just bathed. It made you want to scrub your skin until it was raw and bleeding, all the while fearing you would never be clean again.

 

The answer was quick, subservient. “Yes, sir.”

 

A dark chuckle, laced with deceit followed the voice. “Finally,” he responded with an evident sneer. “Have the preparations been completed?”

 

“Hai.” The soldier was shuddering, evidently trying to hide the fear that was plainly evident. The other thrived on fear, consumed it as if it were a tasty dessert. It only made his power stronger.

 

“A complete scan of all sectors, sir. There were three others, as well as your enemies.” It was only through great will power that he did not stutter, clutching tightly to the sheaves of paper in his hands as though they were a lifeline.

 

A smirk quirked at the corner of thin lips. “Good. Send a small brigade after them.” A pause, for effect perhaps, as a derogatory noise escaped his mouth. “We wouldn't want to make a big fuss over nothing.”

 

“As you will it, sir!” There was a sharp salute, an open palm smacked to the opposite shoulder as the soldier stiffly bowed. He turned away from the man and made his way down the hallway as quickly as possible, the rapid beating of his heart only calming with distance.

 

Left behind, the man sniggered to himself, a malicious laugh, half-turning his body to peer out of the large, double-paned window. Two pairs of dark eyes, barely distinguishable from coals looked down at the hundreds - nay, thousands - of soldiers practicing drills in the yard. Their lines stretched further than his eyes could see, but he knew they were there.

 

“Soon,” he murmured under his breath, a feeling of great accomplishment stirring through him. “Soon they will be in our hands.” He tilted his head upwards then, glasses catching the bright light overhead. “And nothing will stop us… stop me.” He cackled, laughter echoing hollowly down the hall, and he folded his arms behind his back, quite pleased with the progress of their plans.

 

There was a faint trickle of something, some presence, some unknown pressure on the back of his mind. He frowned as behind him, a body stepped out of the darkness, footsteps barely audible in the otherwise empty hallway.

 

“Your penchant for dramatic monologues is tiresome at best.”

 

He whirled around, anger alit in his expression. “Where have you been?” the bespectacled man hissed.

 

His eyes caught a glint of something silver in the shadows, the faint sound of metal clanking against stone ringing in his ears. “It is none of your business.”

 

“It is when I am forced to search for you.”

 

A bemused snort quickly followed that statement. “What? Were you in need of me?” the other male asked from the gloom, his tone mocking.

 

His voice was that of whispered sin, secrets sliding through the dead of the night, a promise of seduction. It slithered across the spine, wrapped you in a cocoon of desire, yet not allowing knowledge of the need. It made you want to grasp something, anything, to run your fingers through the silken threads of his tone. You want to bathe in it forever. It is a startling contrast to the other, more sinister voice.

 

The bespectacled man sneered. “Have you caught the failure yet?” he snapped, beginning to lose his already short patience.

 

“I am biding my time. I want him to come willingly.” There was a slide of a footstep, a sound the other male meant to make. From the obscurity came a flash of liquid green eyes, showing nothing but loathing. “I want him to realize when he has no other choice.”

 

The other male sniffed imperiously. “You and your games,” he stated as he whirled on his heels and stalked down the hall, the click-click of his dress shoes a rapid staccato. “So long as he does not interfere.”

 

“And if he does?”

 

He paused, hands tightening into momentary fists behind his back. “If he does… I will kill him myself. I never should have let that nuisance live in the first place.” His lips curled into an annoyed snarl, irritated with his own lack of far sight in that particular matter.

 

There was a ruffle, as if feathers were shifting on wings. “You do not have the power to do so. He is my prey and my prey alone.” A slither of something the dark filled the silence as cold metal suddenly pressed warningly to the side of the other male's neck. “Do not touch him,” hissed the one in the shadows.

 

Yet, the bespectacled man stood unafraid. He simply reached up and batted the weapon away, unconcerned for the small dribble of blood on his neck. The wound itself sealed up almost as quickly as it had opened, even the crimson liquid evaporating until the flesh was unmarred and clean.

 

He turned to regard the arrogant foe, glasses glinting in the light and shading his eyes from view. “Oh? What is this? Grown fond of the brat have you?” His lips slid back to reveal a smirk that was not the least bit reassuring. “Or perhaps it is the other, hmm? The one he protects? Jealousy is not an emotion I believed you capable of.”

 

“And you would know!” the other sneered, his voice sharp and dangerous in the hallway. It degenerated into a warning hiss. “Stay away from him.”

 

“Which is it?” He tilted his head to the side, delight creeping into his features. “The failure or the friend? Your foolish human emotions amuse me.”

 

The blade returned to its sheath. “I grow tired of your voice.” He turned on his heels and walked away. “It sickens me.”

 

An evil chortle followed in his wake, far too loud for his ears and grating on his nerves. “When the world is ours, we'll let you have your pick. Until then, feel free to take your time in choosing who lives… and who will die.” He cackled even louder, growing slightly shrill as he strode down the hall in the opposite direction.

 

No answer came.

 

Behind them, a single, black feather floated to the ground, glossy shine glinting in the harsh and pale white, flourescent light.

 

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