The Reaper Wars 02 Live To Die

There is nothing more freeing than to run. To repeat that simple cycle of movements as you feel the strength of your own body flourish and waver for as long as need be. All of the worries, memories and pains fall away in the primal effort to keep moving at pace. The breathing space that running offered the now retired Captain Takashi was second only to his dreams. The feeling of clarity was akin to keeping his head above water.

The Captain couldn't just run anywhere either, not the streets of his birth city amongst the visibly polluted air with the stink and noise of humanity. For a true escape he needed the visual tranquillity of the trees and flowers that only his neighboring park could provide. Anywhere else and he wouldn't feel like he could fully breathe. Sheltered in a glass dome with filtered air it was only accessed through a toll, an expense that the Captain was willing to pay even with though it left a large hole in megre pension.

Any time he regretfully had to travel to the inner city would always be a tortuous affair. He could hold his own keeping his troops alive under fire but dealing with the hustle and bustle of the crowds of inner Tokyo was nearly unbearable. Through the course of his life it seemed like society had lost its sense of community and decency. His wife had tried for years to reinforce in him a hope for people but even her tireless love couldn't rekindle that wasted ideal.

In his entire career he had endured the horrors of war and returned to her scarred only in his body. Even after they had taken his leg the memories never haunted him. His wife merely thought he was keeping his pain from her with the strength of a dutiful husband. That he only wished to spare her the horrifying details. The truth was he was traditionally raised and honor bound from a military family filled with men of stone. War never invaded home with it's pointless violence.

Battle was the duty of the men of the Takashi family. The family and home were the women's responsibility. They were looked down on from others for their views of women in combat, they respected fighting women but they wouldn't abandon generations of tradition. Takashi couldn't help but recognize glances as he pounded the pavement on this beautiful day. Dressed in a tank top and running shorts his scars were plain to see and his prosthetic leg augment garnered attention from the higher class runners and their obsession for the perfect body. His disgust was evident on his face as he passed their fake smiles, he knew that fitness wouldn't last under the hardships of military service. Their porcelain perfection would shatter under the pressure.

Some of them ran to solidify their confidence within themselves but Takashi's daily routine was his only escape from the pain of her. Finally after two hours with his body bathed in sweat and his mind somewhat recollected he left an oasis of peace and exited the dome into another realm. A tsunami of humanity.

His chest began tightening as he entered the endless horde of pedestrian commuters on Tokyo's chaotic footpaths. His vision was clouded to the backs in front of him as they walked in a unified pace of hurried frenzy. In the morning rush hour he sought the breath and sight of fresh air and gazed to the sky instinctively. A view of the sky was a distant hope as his eyes met buildings of monolithic proportions. Human construction grasped at the sun, blocking her light with fingers of engineered steel. These pillars of civilization shrouded the district's pathways in near constant shadow making the park Takashi's only daily source of natural light.

There were no conversations between members of the throng only grunts of discomfort as they each pressed against each other, desperate to reach their respective jobs. Takashi even in his tired state from the run was forced on by the heel-clipping shoes at his back as he rode the train of the daily human grind.

Just as the teeming crowds sparked his anxiety he gazed up to see the street sign he was looking for and he charged to the side, pushing and shoving until he escaped the undertow. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and let the pain in his chest subside. Her voice echoed in his mind soothing his anxiety with her gentle tone until his tired heart settled. With his breathing finally under control he continued on in the journey of his daily routine.

He escaped the crowds into a shortcut through a desolate underpass that most if not all civilians avoided. Nicknamed Purgatory by local law enforcement the entire underside of the raised freeway was taken over by some of the city's homeless. Most of them to his disgust and shame were ex military and no matter how much the politicians railed against this fallen fate of the nation's heroes their number only continued to grow.

Their tax funded survival skills were developed so they could make a home in enemy territory in every corner of the galaxy. Now those skills kept them alive as the people they swore to protect ignored their hellish reward to their bravery and sacrifice. Campfires littered the area beside beds made from anything from blankets, cardboard to even newspapers. A tent was considered hot property and often fought for.

Takashi walked through confidently, he could hear his name being called out a few times and he smiled and waved back. When he had the money he would purchase food and water to distribute amongst these brothers and sisters in arms. He continued to make his way through Purgatory without haste or apprehension, occasionally stopping to check on some of the residents before continuing on. Upon reaching the other side he gazed into another raging torrent of humanity and braced himself for crossing the river of willing slaves and wasted dreams.

He pushed against the tide as it flowed downwards, without apology or recognition of his ailment they crashed against him. They were so desperate to work jobs they hated to buy things they didn't need that they didn't care who got in their way. The sea of faces briefly formed a gap which revealed his salvation situated below massive screens advertising unaffordable milestones for the masses.

He reached the other side and swiftly entered the apartment block where he lived and he was greeted by the familiar, lingering scent of human settlement as a young child's protesting cry sounded from a floor above. When it was first built the walls were a clinical white but now from years of neglect they were a dirty smoke-stained yellow and littered with ugly, mindless graffiti. Some of the apartment's doors were left open as Takashi passed by them, their residents ignorant of being a nuisance as they mingled loudly in the hallways. As he ascended the building towards his apartment on the fourth floor he couldn't help but notice certain residents conducting criminal activities as they sold narcotics outside their homes without fear of consequence.

Finally he was on his floor but the door to his apartment was blocked by two young boys who grinned as they saw him approach. They passed him without saying a word and he discreetly passed them a few dollars each. It was a simple arrangement, they watched over certain apartments when the owners were away so they wouldn't be robbed or vandalized. If he didn't pay them his home would be ransacked the next time he left it.

He swiped his keycard along the lock before the door slid open and he entered with a feeling of relief and sadness. Instantly he saw her resting on top of the table beside the balcony door, the love of his life nestled inside a featureless, black porcelain jar. He walked over and tenderly brushed his hand against the orb as the bittersweet image of her smile rocked him from his foundations. He immediately regretted touching her as he realized he was in dire need of a shower. He silently cursed himself for jeopardizing her purity with his dirty hands and left to take a shower.

Once washed and refreshed he heated a meal of chicken and rice and without complaint to its lack of flavor consumed it as he listened to the sounds of the world pass him by through his open balcony. His apartment was spartan and immaculately kept through military discipline and respect to his wife's standard. Completely lacking in decoration except for the table in which her ashes rested. Plastic flowers lacking scent surrounded a photo of her pale, smiling face framed in dark wood with unlit tealights surrounding the vase. It was the focus piece of his existence, a minimalist expression of her existence, a mere shadow of how the light of her life filled his heart.

Such a lost love was a double edged sword that tormented every pleasured memory of her with a vicious duality and the ever sharpened pangs of loss. He attempted to escape the hurt with the continuation of his daily ritual as he tidied away all signs of recent habitation. Once his home was cleaned to her liking he rested himself on his throne beside her and lit the tealights. With the sweet scent of lavender filling his nostrils he laid his head back and closed his eyes before sinking into the conscious dreams of a life past.

In this meditative state his memories of her were so strong he believed he could feel her beside him. He could feel the warmth of her body against him as the entrancing smell of her hair settled his tumultuous heart. His need for her was agonizing and he reached for her only to feel the cold coming form the open balcony door and the memory of her ghost drift away from his yearning reach.

Cursing he leapt up and moved to shut the door only to see a lifeless crow nestled against the balcony wall, he knelt down and lifted its dead weight and she flooded his mind again. He was holding her as her loving heart failed her and robbed him of the better half of his soul. He felt her panicked tremors as he fought against her last strength, helplessly holding her in his arms as he pleaded for her to live. He remembered the exact moment when he felt the life leave her body as she grew limp in his terrified, shaking grasp. He rested in that hospital room for what seemed like an eternity, too afraid to move her. Foolishly disbelieving her death and hoping against all hope that she would begin to move again. The doctors found them an hour later bathed in his silent tears as he cursed the cruel world that would take this angel and not him, an awarded killer.

He wrapped the dead bird in a towel and rested it inside a plastic container out in the balcony. He would dispose of it tomorrow. Back inside he sat frozen gazing at her picture as grief washed over him in continuation of his daily torture. Their son told him that he should get out in the world and meet new people that having friends would make the loss more bearable.

He didn't understand this world anymore and all of his friends were dead, crushed under the slow rolling weight of military ambition to guard a world that wouldn't give them the time of day. He was a slowly aging iron relic in a world obsessed with technology and the all encompassing power of currency. This apartment was his only sanctuary, a still island oasis from the constant living waves of a world alien to him.

Looking towards his apartment's rarely used telecom system his despair moved to his son and their torn relationship. It beckoned him to press a few buttons and end a cavernous gap between parent and child that had begun with something so trivial but he knew both of their titanic prides would never allow that bridge to be crossed. Yet he missed his grandchildren and selfishly he missed their innocent power to draw him away from his memories. He hated himself even further for such a destructive weakness.

Reaching inside the single drawer underneath her photo he drew forth the tool of his trade. Cared for to the highest degree its grip was fitted to his hand as a perfect joining of man and machine, life and death. Without thinking he turned the loaded handgun on himself and pressed the muzzle into his temple, feeling the cool barrel rest against his short cropped hair he turned to gaze at her.

His eyes misted with tears as grief and regret unrelentingly pummeled his will. He still retained the composure to realize that if he pulled the trigger he would cover her with his blood. Swallowing hard he moved the barrel to his mouth and pressed it in, the sickly taste of metal mixing with bile as he fought with his mounting depression. The grip was warm now and slick with sweat as he fought for release, he was sick of waiting for the end, he wanted to be free of this living purgatory.

With trembling hands he gazed at her smile and those loving eyes, knowing she wouldn't want this fate for him. Part of him at that moment hated her for being in his life, for loving him. Feeling his stomach lurch he ripped the barrel out his mouth as he vomited over the clean floor with tears and sweat covering his face in a lotion of inner pain.

A bittersweet numbness rose in him as he moved to clean the evidence of his attempted suicide. The ordeal only lasted a brief minute but it exhausted him to his very core as he disposed of the vomit-soaked towel and knelt down to wipe the floor clean with disinfectant. Once finished he looked up to her with one hand on her ashes. "I'll wait." He whispered before getting up and staggering towards the bedroom.

Like the rest of his home it was devoid of decoration only containing a single bed and a set of drawers containing uninformedly folded sets of the same clothes. Too drained to even undress himself he collapsed onto the bed, grateful for the feeling of cool fabric against his stressed and overheated body. He lay facing the shuttered window listening to the never sleeping hive of humanity outside, watching as the thin lights of aerial traffic flew past until thankfully sleep took him.

For years he had grown accustomed to the constant droning sound of the city, no matter how high you got an apartment you couldn't escape it. So with this it wasn't a loud noise that awoke Takashi it was the fact that for a brief moment all noise was cut out in an eerie city-wide silence. Alarmed he opened his eyes and slowly raised himself to approach the window. Gradually the black night sky was illuminated from a descending sun as the masses outside screamed in fleeing panic as an army fled uselessly from danger. Shielding his eyes from the intense light Takashi barely made it halfway out his bedroom door before the heavens fell to Earth.

Takashi was flung backwards as the hammer of the gods thunderclapped against his ears with strike after strike as he struggled to raise himself up only to be thrown back again. He was completely deaf and as such his balance failed him on multiple occasions. His vision swam as hellfire seared across open windows and he finally stood up and walked towards the balcony on trembling legs.

His progress was halted by the sight of her vessel scattered across the floor, mixed with burnt plastic flower petals and the broken glass of her now ruined picture. Behind her scattered ashes was a city broken and burning as towers in the distance crumbled down into a storm of dust and debris enshrouding a helpless chorus of screams.

A panicked shock filled his muscles with a wavering strength as he wiped her ashes into a pile, caring not for the shards of glass piercing his hands as the fuel of his life mixed with her death. Her former vase shattered he threw the dead crow from the plastic container and hastily brushed his wife's remains into it, too hysteric and fearful to care for his methods. He clutched her close to him as he stepped towards his phone station only to find the communication mainframe completely malfunctioning.

Suffering from shock and a severe concussion he collapsed against the wall, his vision fading as the rubble settled within the interior of the city. He was unconscious as the black devils crawled forth from hell to snatch away those helpless souls unlucky enough to escape a quick death. For the next few hours the noise of civilization was replaced with the gunfire and screams of a city under siege from within. Takashi saw none of this as he slept a dreamless, death-like slumber.

His eyes opened slowly, the lids and eyelashes glued together by eye-watered dust as he gazed on a view of chaos from prime real estate. She was still clutched in his arms wincing as the bruises o his body protested against movement.

A hideous scream came from somewhere above his apartment as a burst of gunfire echoed from somewhere further into the city. His instincts pressed him into action and he checked over his prosthetic leg for damage, it was still functional. Swiftly but with caution he raised himself up and peered outside his apartment. The door was open, the locking mechanism malfunctioning as his eyes met damaged, flickering lights. They illuminated a grisly sight as he stared at blood smeared across the walls of the hallway and leading downwards to the stairs.

Something not human screeched from floors above, heavy thunderous pounding could be heard descending downwards at an impossible speed. Takashi silently stalked back inside to his bedroom as the heavy footsteps were on his level and approaching. Gently he lowered himself under his bed-frame until he was satisfied that he was hidden.

From his position and in the flickering light he saw black skeletal feet enter his apartment, followed closely by a long, bony tail with a sickle bladed tip. With his heart hammering from a primal fear of this unknown beast he harnessed all his control to regulate his breathing as it entered the bedroom. The claws of its slender feet clicked against the hard floor as thick, jelly like saliva dripped on the floor. Heavy breaths came from the lungs of the monster as Takashi felt himself pressed into the floor by the sheer presence of this creature as it stopped just beside the bed.

He could hear his heartbeat pounding into his ears as he saw clawed hands lowered to the floor. This was his end and he clutched her in a death grip, afraid but ready for the end. Its crouch continued to lower until the lower half of an open mouth could be seen. Lined with glistening sharp teeth the creature's breathing turned into a resonating hiss until a loud clang could be heard from the apartment next door.

Before Takashi could even begin to swallow his colossal fear the beast had turned and raced out the apartment like lightning on charging steps to invade his neighbor. He heard the door being smashed in followed closely by lung shredding screams as they were cut short. He didn't know the couple next door, they seemed like nice people on first glance but like most people he was viewed as invisible.

He didn't have time to consider the horror that was taking place next door, he new this was his only chance, the monster would come back. He shifted out from underneath his bed and left the apartment keeping his hurried steps as quiet as possible. He made it halfway down the first flight of stairs before he heard something following.

It was the woman from next door, screaming as she ran down the hall towards the stairs. Takashi turned to see her make her way around the corner, staring at him before it claimed her. She barely made it down one step before a black, glistening hand wrapped around the entirety of her skull. She was pulled back out Takashi's sight like a weightless rag-doll and he turned to run for his life.

He raced down three steps at a time convinced he was being chased even though nothing could be heard behind. With each floor descended more sights of death and macabre graced his eyes, the lingering crowds of residents were discarded bodies, the graffiti lining the walls were painted over with blood. His burning lungs absorbed the stench of the dead without repulsion, to stop was to join them.

Finally he reached the ground floor and the open door to the outside was in his sight. He had never seen the street outside empty, the dried up human riverbed perplexed him even with all that was going on. His brief pause was punished as something hammered into his side, sending him flying into a wall. His grip on the container failed and it smacked the wall with him, splitting open as she was spilled again onto the bloodstained floor.