The Reaper (Alternate)

A short alternate story on Brim the Reaper. Her role is to accompany those who are taking their final journey.

Her hair was pure white, the color of death. Her eyes were luminous one red, the other green. A pair of small, black, devil horns sprouted from atop her head. A forked tail protruding from her lower spine swayed two and fro. She stood tall, proud, garbed in all black with a domineering presence.

She held a large black and white scythe with intricate vines going down the handle, a rose where her hand was, thorns prickled from the curved blade. It was twice the size of any other scythe, yet as it rested against her shoulder effortlessly it seemed weightless.

Strapped to her hip was a small satchel. “Brim,” was stitched in gold embroidery across the soft, black leather strap. Large, Black, bone wings tucked close to her back from which they sprouted. Bits of white feather still clung to them desperately.

She had a stoic expression on her face as she stood atop a building, overlooking the small town she lived near. Her own home was safe, miles in the forest behind where no mortal could find her.

“And another day begins.” She spoke softly, with only herself for an audience as her eyes drifted to the rising sun. The sky was painted with a brilliant pink and orange.

Stretching her massive wings she launched herself over the edge of the building, plummeting down in a spiral. She inhaled with exhilaration before angling her wings to slow her descent. With a powerful downward thrust, she rocketed to the sky.

Her shriek of delight was audible to all below, but when they looked up nothing was in sight. A small, blue, orb flickering and revolving around her was the cause for her invisibility.
“Let’s go.” She called in a sing-song voice.
Her course changed and she dived down, moving toward centre, the orb in tow not far behind.

A tall bronze statue stood in the center of town. An ancient, pioneer man stood proud, arms crossed as if he were watching over the town hall before him. Written on the plaque beneath his feet were the words, “Founder James Hendricks: Forever watch over us in peace.”

“Here we are.” Brim whispered to the orb which could only flicker in response.
“My next target is inside.”
Landing in front of the building, she took the time to look over her surroundings. It was a sleepy Saturday morning. As far as she could see, there were four people and two cars parked in front of the building.
“Good.”

Without another moments hesitation she strode into the building, confident, each step bringing her closer and closer to the mayors office. Upon reaching the door she let herself in. An elder, short, portly man with thinning grey hair and a jolly face looked up from the paperwork sprawled over the desk before him. His eyes rose, his expression became perplexed. The orb faded, revealing her.

“Who are you?” He stood, his voice shaking in alarm.
“Robert Meyer.” Brim spoke her voice projecting as she pulled her shoulders back, standing tall.
“Your time has come.”

Briefly, a look of horror crossed the mayors face before his shoulders slumped in resignation.
“I know.” His words were lonely as he moved from behind his desk crossing the room to her side.
“You had a good run.” She spoke with a gentle smile.
“That I did.” He sighed. “Now, I may be with my family once more.”

Brim nodded toward the wall beside them and with a flick of her wrist and snap of her fingers a spiraling black vortex formed before them.
“Come now.”
The Mayor nodded, took one long last look at the room around him, then disappeared through the vortex with the reaper as it quietly closed behind them.