Fantasy Friday #5 – January 19, 2018

Image By: TheBoyofCheese (Benjamin Ee) on DeviantArt


By: Robin Gagnon


The shadows moved in time with the clouds that passed over the bright, full moon. Standing in a dark alleyway was a man, dressed in a full black trench coat. His hair was the colour of a Raven and his black eyes were cold and soulless. In his line of work, you couldn’t have feelings for anything or anyone.

This man, though dark and emotionless, was not bad nor good. He was simply a being doing his job. It was not wrong to say, however, that he preferred to do his job during the night. There was something peaceful about the stillness of the dark that set him at ease.

In a few moments time, his target would be walking down this alleyway. His name was Marco Romero and he had done some terrible things in his life, which was now about to catch up with him. Karma could be a nasty woman if she wanted to be, but she provided him with at least half of his jobs.

The man stood against the wall, carelessly waiting. He looked at his watch, eager to get this job done and move onto the next one. His watch was rather peculiar and only counted down time instead of counting forward. It was black, with a skull where the twelve should of been, and showed that there was only two minutes time, before Marco Romero was to arrive in this alley.

“When did he say he was going to show up?” an Asian man dressed in low hanging jeans and a sports jersey asked his two companions. “It feels like we’ve been waiting here for too long.”

“He’ll be here,” one of the other men replied from the shadows. “And when he get’s here, he’ll be a dead man.”

The man in the black trench coat watched the three of them. One was standing with a briefcase, while the other two hid among the shadows behind trashcans. None of them knew that the man in the black trench coat was there, watching everything unfold as planned.

When there was a minute left, the man got ready; all hell was about to break loose. A car’s headlights illuminated the darkness, as Marco’s car turned down the small alley. The man with the briefcase started walking to the car and when Marco got out, the men from the shadows shot him five times; the gunshots echoing into the night. All three thugs jumped into Marco’s car and sped off, leaving Marco to die in the alley.

The man in the black trench coat walked over to Marco’s body, as he moaned in pain. The man materialized a scythe, which glimmered like the moon, in his right hand and brought it down on the young man. No physical wounds appeared on the Marco’s body, but with that strike, he breathed his last breath. A blue aura floated out of Marco’s chest and the man grabbed it out of the air. After looking down at Marco’s motionless body one last time, the man in the black trench coat turned around and headed back down towards the end of the alley.

With the soul he had collected in his hand, the man used his scythe to slice open a black portal in front of him. Just as the man stepped through the portal, the sound of cop cars rang through the night. The Grim Reaper’s job was done.


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