Reaper of the Guilty: Chapter 1 – A Shadowy Threat

Chapter 1 – A Shadowy Threat

Sometimes, after a long day of work, I like to look out at the city to remind myself of what I’m fighting for. Meridian is a beautiful place, especially at night. Despite the many sins she hides behind her surface, the good people in it make her worth fighting for, something that I do daily. It’s also something that’s starting to grind on me. I go out and help the law catch criminals or kill them, and no matter how many get locked up or killed, more come to take their place. There have been periods when they don’t show up as often, but they always come back.

Because of this, today I’ve given this latest group of criminals I’ve gone after a special suffering in which they want to die, but won’t. Maybe it’s morbid. Maybe I’m losing my sense of morality and justifying my brutality because I don’t control the punishment that people get, since God does it based on a person’s sins. Whatever the case is, maybe it’s something I should reflect on by taking a vacation. I haven’t taken a break beyond the ones I go on with my parents in the summer. I can’t reflect much now, especially since someone has entered the building.

When I investigate who it is, I find that it’s the Chief of Police, Raymond. He seems shocked at what he is looking at. Maybe I am getting too extreme for my own good and the good of the sinful if he’s afraid of what he’s seeing.

“Haha. You’d think after three years of seeing my work, you’d be used to the sight of it,” I say from the shadows as I manifest myself in front of Raymond.

“I don’t think anyone could get used to this besides you,” Raymond says, not trying to look frightened by my sudden appearance.

Hmm. Something is bothering me about seeing him. I can’t place it, yet for some reason.

Ignoring it for now, I say, “I’m surprised you came here so fast without me telling you about it.”

“You’d think someone wouldn’t report to the police all the screaming and moaning coming from this building?” he asks.

“Maybe. People know it’s my calling card after three years of working, so most know not to care or worry, knowing that I’m doing good by punishing evildoers.”

“You’re right,” Raymond says, taking out a piece of gum and chewing it. “Still, you might be scaring people more than teaching them a lesson.”

“Those two things aren’t always mutually exclusive.”

“Again, you’re right. I’m not arguing with your methods. I’m just saying you’re putting more people into asylums than turning them into upstanding citizens.”

“Now it’s my turn to admit you’re right, chief. Three years of work and the city has hardly changed from what it once was.”

“That’s not true. Most people look up to you now. They’re even starting to dress up and sell things with your name on it.”

“So? I don’t care for vain things like that.”

“What about those who try to be a hero and vigilante like you?”

“I don’t care for the extremists who use justice and virtue as an excuse to kill and steal from those whom they think deserve it.”

“What about the legitimate heroes and vigilantes? They’re doing a lot of good without going too far.”

“I pray that they have better success than I do.”

“Come on, L’Obscurité. Everything that you’ve done so far for the city has been positive, with few negatives to be found. Even all this, with criminals somehow being alive despite their organs hanging out of their bodies, will be helpful to making the city a better place.”

“If…you say so. You seem more positive about my work than usual. What changed?”

“Working with you can do that. You should talk to more street-level heroes that you’ve inspired if you want to make a larger difference this year.”

Again, another change of heart. Before I can point it out, I feel that I’m getting a call from my phone, so I manifest it from my normal pockets, and am surprised to see that it’s Raymond calling me. Looking back over to where I saw him, I see that he’s disappeared.

Picking up the call and talking over him, I say, “What are you calling me for, and where did you go?”

“Huh? What are you talking about, kid? I’m headed to you right now after hearing people call the police about your work,” he says.

I take a few seconds to search the area, inside and outside of the building, and can’t find anyone who looks like Raymond.

“You weren’t just here talking to me?”

“No, I wasn’t. Why? What happened?”

“It looks like we have a shapeshifter on our hands. I was just talking to someone who looked and sounded like you.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. He has the same scar over his eye, bullet hole scars on the sides of his face, same sounding voice, and habit of chewing gum, but…now that I think about it, the oddities in his ideas stand out to me.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in a second. Keep searching the area for him in the meantime.”

I do as the chief says and still don’t find anything, no matter how thoroughly I search. Going a bit further beyond, I question people in the area and probe their minds for information. None of them know anything from the admiring citizens who want to take a picture and get my autograph to the shady criminals who work in the dark. When Raymond arrives, I tell him everything that was said between the shapeshifter and me.

“At least they don’t know your true identity. From the sound of it, you have a secret admirer. I’m surprised something like a shapeshifter got the drop on you since you can see into people’s souls,” Raymond says.

“I knew something was weird, but I ignored it. I can only read souls when I intentionally do so. It’s not automatic,” I say.

“Tch. I guess your powers can’t always be that convenient. This admirer is probably one of the new heroes or vigilantes who say they’re inspired by you.”

“That’s probably true, but I don’t think they’re any of the public ones associated with any legitimate hero or vigilante group, since they approached me without revealing who they truly are, unlike those who have publicly approached me without masking their identity.”

“Hopefully, they’re not one of the extremists. All I can suggest is that you try to get to know them more the next time they reveal themselves to you. In the meantime, I’ll clean up the mess you’ve made here, and I know I ask this a lot, but will these people be okay?”

“They will. Their organs will be back in their bodies by tomorrow morning, and they’ll be fine as if nothing happened. Well, at least their bodies will. As for their minds, I can’t say for certain other than I hope they’ve learned their lesson. Hahaha!”

“Tch. Sometimes, I swear you do this so your family’s asylums get more government funding for all the people who go there.”

“Please, chief. You know me better than that.”

“Yeah, yeah, Timeo. Just try to take it easier on these people, even though they may deserve it.”

I don’t say anything to the chief as I continue my hunt for criminals tonight. My weeding out of crime includes people being eaten from the inside or out by vermin, insects, or both, being ripped apart by beasts of the dark or the demons that tempt them, crushed by the material possessions they seek, or stretched from floor to ceiling. All of this either kills or makes the criminals repent, and yet, I feel as if I am doing nothing. Even the smiles of the people I rescue hardly lighten my heart like they used to. None of these people, not even the superhuman villains or people with political power or in business, know of the shapeshifter who talked to me, and by the end of the day, I notice that I’ve hardly been praying for the sinners I punish, which lightens their punishment.

Raymond has been okay with me killing criminals in certain situations, such as self-defense, but I feel as if I’m failing in my duties by forgetting or not even trying to pray. God, please forgive me for my incompetence and failures. Help my enemies see your light in your darkness, and me in my quest to enforce your justice. Help my loved ones in our shared endeavors, and those who say they are inspired by me and that I am open to them, despite the sin on their souls. Amen.