Page 24 of Ravaged By the Reaper
Every flick of her wrist, every muscle tension… I see it all. I match her strikes. Not because sheneedssaving, but because Ineedher. And I know now—I’ll go to hell’s door and back just to stand beside her.
Soldiers fall. Sparks rain. Bodies clatter down the corridor like heavy raindrops. The roar of the inferno behind us fades under the thunder of battle.
She cuts down one with a graceful arc. He drops. She doesn't break pace. She eyes me again, this time not with surprise but recognition.
I think I see a smile—but then she’s moving on, drives her blade forward and I follow with Bloodfont’s hook to finish the job.
We fight. Not as predator and prey. Not even as lovers. As a single violent storm given shape.
I don’t know her name.
But I know I’m hers.
We move like a storm unleashed, as if we’ve rehearsed this on battlefield astral planes before our souls ever met. My scythe, Bloodfont, arcs through the air—its chain humming a predator’s tune. It plunges clean through a guard’s chest.Rip.Warm mist and gore arcs out, salty and metallic. I taste it, nearly gag, but the fight propels me forward like addiction.
The chain of Bloodfont whips taut beneath her boots, and she pushes off my shoulder with the graceful strength of a trained dancer. She soars, blade raised, and two more soldiers crack in half with one brutal slash each. The second’s scream is cut short and wet, dissolving into the roar of war.
Her back lands squarely against my shell. We spin—in perfect synchrony. My head whips to track her motion, and for the length of a breath, the world fractures around us. Sparks from overhead wiring rain like embers. Alarm lights flicker red. Smoke coils through the corridor in lazy waves. I taste ozone and gunpowder. My legs are shaking, blood pounding behind my ears.
The truth crashes in:This is home.The primal joy in battle—once a solo song in my soul now becomes a duet. I grin, revealing rows of fangs. It’s savage, hungry, intoxicating. I’ve known lust. I’ve known rage. And I’ve known hunger. But this… this is something holy in its ferocity.
Soldiers collapse. Their weapons fall in puddles of steam and blood. Bodies litter the floor like toys abandoned mid-fight. Yet we don’t slow.
She jerks backward, flipping her blade in a sweeping half-circle. The flat of the power sword collides with a charging laser trooper’s breastplate—again, lights flicker red as it comes undone. Her smile is feral, fierce.
I taste steel and sweat. My tongue presses between my teeth.
“You fight well,” I breathe, voice low but cracking with disbelieving awe.
She doesn’t answer, doesn’t look at me. Her eyes flick to the next threat—another guard blocking our exit, jump pack flaring.
I let out a guttural laugh. The sound echoes. Nobody interrupts.
Her blade glows. She cleaves downward. The body joining the ground feels like fallen stone. She turns—half to me—blade raised and shining like truth.
I swing Bloodfont high, chain thrumming. We converge on the guard. He attempts to fire but doesn’t—starts gurgling instead as broken metal collapses over him.
The silence that follows is heavy. Just the hiss of smoke. The crackle of a dying fire.
I pull Amara close—no soft apologies, just the pressure of bodies entwined in shared survival. She leans in, glowing with soot and blood and firelight.
“You’re different,” I murmur—no question. Statement.
She tilts her head and smiles again, but it’s quiet. Tender, almost. Then she turns and strides forward, blade still humming.
I follow.
We emerge into another war corridor. The hallway branches toward life-support and control arrays. Alarms still shriek. Theair is brittle. Burning metal flakes drift in the halo of strobe lights like blood-snow.
“Where to next?” I ask, voice rough with fire.
She holds out a finger and points down the west wing. Not speaking, but intent on the path.
Then she looks at me again. Not with question, but confidence. Permission. And I nod.
We move as one.
Every step, every turn, every swing is a living bond. A beating prayer. I feel her heart thrumming against mine—and it matches.
