Page 47 of The Reaper
“Today, consumption is known as TB, tuberculosis. Back then it was called consumption because it consumed the whole being of the person who contracted it. It was an agonisingly slow death. Bacteria would burrow its way into your lungs, eating away at the tissue from the inside out until your chest began to fill with blood as the destroyed lung tissue turned to mush. Eventually, the lungs would totally liquify, meaning the patient couldn’t breathe anymore, and then they’d drown inside their own body.”
Devon hissed and shook his head.
“And they think we’re twisted for what we do. I think God invented some pretty sick ways to kill people. If there even is a God.”
I didn’t want to get into a discussion on faith, so I changed the subject.
“My favourite gravestone is Penny Picker’s. She died aged eighty-two, and her headstone reads, ‘I told you I was sick’.
Devon laughed. “If I were buried here, not that I would be, but I’d have to have something like, ‘Here lies an atheist. All dressed up and nowhere to go’.”
I laughed at his dry humour, and then remembering my own experience of settling on a headstone and all the crippling emotions that came along with it, I gave a weak smile.
“My mum wanted the recipe for her favourite fudge carved into hers, but when the time came, Dad couldn’t bring himself to do it.” I sighed. “They were like chalk and cheese, my mum and dad, but it didn’t matter. Their love always won out in the end.”
They were the reason I believed true love could conquer all. Their relationship, the closeness they had, it had been the benchmark that I’d always aspired to. The love that I wanted for myself.
“She sounds cool,” Devon said with a quiet reverence. “I wish I could’ve met her. You’ll have to tell me more about her one day.” Empathy shone from his eyes, but that wasn’t what I wanted to see. I wanted the fire that I saw before.
“One day,” I replied. “But not today.” I wanted this night to be about us. Exciting, new, an adventure that I would always remember. Those memories had no place here, no matter how precious they were.
Suddenly, I felt self-conscious, so I turned away, creeping further into the heart of the graveyard.
“Did you know that in the olden days, the type of stone used to make your grave used to represent how wealthy you were?” Devon hummed something that sounded like he was feigning interest. “If you had marble or granite, you were rich, but poorer people had sandstone, lime, or if they were really poor, wood.”
“Or a ditch.” He shrugged, and I carried on, each step feeling like I was luring him into an abyss, with no idea what the outcome would be. But the excitement I was feeling, firing up inside of me, only spurred me on even more.
“Early gravestones were rumoured to face the east. They said you had to have the feet pointing east, and the head towards the west, that way, on the rise of a new day, you’d be facing the sun, ready to be reborn.”
“That sounds like a crock of shit,” he spat back, and I could hear the playfulness in his voice as he said, “Are you trying to get away from me?”
“No.”
I was, but only because I felt nervous, and I couldn’t seem to stop my feet from wandering deeper into the darkness.
“I think you’re lying to me. I bet if you stopped and turned around to look at me, I’d see the truth in your eyes. I can always see what you’re thinking in those eyes of yours, Leah May.”
My heart fluttered hearing his gravelly, seductive tone, like liquid velvet making my body melt and yearn for him. The way he spoke, knowing that he saw through all the bullshit, created a warmth inside of me. In my eyes, he noticed the real me, the one I kept hidden from the world, locked behind closed doors. No one had ever found the key before, the key to my soul. But here, in this graveyard, I felt like he’d taken ownership, changed the locks and woken up a side of me that I never wanted to lose again. He’d breathed life into me and made me feel excited for what was to come. I hadn’t felt alive like this for a long time.
“They call Mount Everest the ‘Graveyard in the Clouds’.” I don’t know why I was still talking. It was like my mouth had bypassed my brain that was currently screaming at me to shut the hell up and throw myself at this man and climb him like a monkey up a tree. “So many hikers have died up there––”
“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass if the bloody pope died up there.” He laughed. “Come here.”
He reached forward to grab my arm, and I don’t know why, maybe because in that moment I felt playful and wanted to tease him, but I turned and started to run away, dancing through the graves and panting as I laughed. I could hear him behind me, hot on my heels, the heaviness of his breathing as he picked up his pace made my skin prickle in excitement. He’d catch up to me, capture me, and what then? What would happen when he had me?
I glanced over my shoulder to see how close he was and didn’t notice the stone jutting out of the ground. My body twisted as I fell onto the grass, landing on my back. I was lucky I hadn’t injured myself, and as I lay on the ground, he came to stand over me, and I couldn’t stop the laughter from breaking free.
But he didn’t laugh.
He just stared down at me. A storm was brewing in his eyes, darkness clouding his vision as a veil of wicked intent seemed to fall over him. Right before my eyes, the reaper everyone had spoken about from Brinton Manor appeared. Only my reaper wasn’t here to take my soul, he was here to own it.
“You’re more like me than I ever thought possible,” he whispered, his rasping voice sparking every nerve in my body to come to life. “I always said I never liked doing things the easy way. Seems you’re the same, if that little chase you just made me do was anything to go by. Do you like me chasing you?”
I nodded, struck dumb, and slowly he knelt on the grass beside me. Then, like a tiger, he crawled over my body, his arms holding the weight of his upper body, but his legs and his hips sliding over mine.
“I like chasing you too.” His voice was like a seductive wave warming me from within, making me crave what was about to happen.
His face hovered over mine as we both stared, savouring the moment, and yet, pining for more.
