An Evil Justice

Chapter 12 – AssasSin (pt. 2)

A/ N – Finally the weekend for me, it feels like it’s been three weeks. As I’ve said, uploads will slow down, but only to four days instead of three. Thanks for the patience.

Also, this was so hard to write as well. I really do just specialize on killing things…

Mature Warning- Harsh language

--* Fenlei City, Missor *--

Facing the masterfully crafted door, the Emissaries’ hearts skipped a beat as they stared at the pictures inscribed into its wooden grains. Just like the carefully carved tiles they stood upon, the door featured horrendous and terrifying acts of death and sin. Only, the door contained much more appalling events.

The massacre of thousands upon thousands of children, their faces wrapped in horrid terror as swords approached their frail bodies.

Prisoners left in cells for weeks, slowly rotting away and tortured by young assassin initiates, their eyes leaking sparkling tears with each limb hacked away.

Massive mansions and government buildings burnt away into cinders and embers as aristocrats stare in despair as their whole lives collapse into piles of ash.

Lilith’s face scrounged up in disgust with every picture she viewed as if she was personally experiencing the events herself, feeling the melancholy and misery each one of them portrayed. Beside her, Grim only absorbed each picture emotionlessly, as if it did not affect him one bit though a hint of reminiscence was almost perceivable in his crimson pupils.

Silently, Grim’s rugged hands, crisscrossed with scars and burn marks, rose and pushed open the door, snapping Lilith out of her daze. Instantly, the surrounding atmosphere grew colder and chilling. Ignoring the ghastly mood, the two of them carefully entered the dark room. With each step, they were driven deeper and deeper into darkness. Fortunately, their demonic eyes dilated and allowed them to see even in such thick shadow.

The room was covered in red velvet, staying true to the rest of the building’s obsession with crimson. A layer of weapons lined the walls, along with numerous portraits. Though they were incapable of matching up to the monster painted by the stairwell, many of them still emitted intense feelings of dread. On the opposite wall was a massive window, though most of it was covered by scarlet curtains, blocking the moonlight from entering.

In front of the window sat a massive desk, layered with numerous sheets of paper, ranging from assassination contracts to information concerning various topics. Sitting behind it all was a middle-aged man, the source of the terror that had filled the room. Just like Grim, his eyes were terribly crimson, almost like an ocean of blood. Though his body was covered by a red cloak, his muscles continued to protrude through the thick cloth.

Every part of his body was riddled with scars, giving him an aged veteran’s aura. Danger was the only word capable of describing him.

“So, you two are the ones causing havoc within my organization?” a deep and terrifying voice gurgled out of his throat. While waiting for their response, the man’s eyes carefully examined the two Emissaries. Lilith’s beauty, which was capable of bewitching even the holiest man, was incapable of attracting his attention as his eyes then shifted over to Grim.

Instantly, his gaze burned sharper with shock.

“Old man, we’re here for business,” Grim’s voice rumbled impatiently as if he was unable to wait any longer. He had noticed the surprised look in the assassin’s eyes. Beads of sweat began to drip down his forehead.

Instantly, the man stood up and disappeared from his desk. Grim’s eyes shifted all over the room trying to find him, but to no avail. That was, until two arms wrapped around his body, hugging him tightly. He felt the warmth of the old assassin surround him. Though he tried to pry away the muscular arms, even his demonic strength was incapable of overpowering the man.

“I thought you died,” Grim felt a whisper cross his ears. His eyes were warped with pain and betrayal as he felt his body grow limp. Lilith only stared in surprise, fearing that the assassin was trying to kill the Emissary of Wrath, but seeing them struggle against each other only fueled her confusion.

Tears ran down Grim’s crimson eyes when he heard the man’s words, “Old man, you were the ones who killed me.”

“Grant, I didn’t have a choice!” catching himself, the man let go of Grim and slowly walked back to his desk.

With a grunt, Grim responded, “Are you telling me that sending multiple elite assassins to kill me wasn’t your choice?”

The cold atmosphere only grew colder with these words. Lilith’s eyes furrowed in frustration as she stared at the two of them argue, ‘So this is why Satan sent the Emissary of Wrath along in this mission.’

“You damn kid, you think I wanted to kill my own son?” the man roared in anger, the building shook with the might of his voice.

With a wave of his hands, the papers stacked on the desk fluttered into the air and crashed into the floor like cascading snow, “The other factions wanted your death, we’re lucky you even survived!”

Grim’s hand clenched in anger, “You’re not my father, Marcus Oswald, and I did die.”

“What?” the assassin, Marcus, gaped.

“Those assassins you sent under that fucking pig managed to kill me,” Grim’s voice shook with rage, “and now here I am, as a reincarnated demon.”

Marcus’ eyes widened in horror the moment these words escaped the Reaper’s dry mouth. Suddenly, suspicion flew into his soul as he stared deeply into Grim’s eyes.

“So, in the end, I did kill my son after all…” an area of gloom covered the assassin’s body as he slouched back into his leather chair. A tinge of regret crossed his whole body as he stared in regret at Grim’s crimson eyes, his pale skin, his white hair, and the horrific scars across his neck and shoulder. “You truly look like you died,” he laughed painfully.

“I’ve already said, you’re not my father,” Grim was adamantly denied the old man’s familial approaches.

Pained eyes stared deep into his soul, “You may not think of me as a father, but I truly raised you well into a great assassin.”

“You tortured me.”

“I helped you get through your guilt!” Marcus roared, “If it wasn’t for me, you would have killed yourself after killing your biological parents.”

Grim’s face grinned wildly, his eyes filled with denial, “You should have let me kill myself!”

“Would you have killed yourself?” the assassin asked quietly, his eyes judging Grim’s expressions, “I’ve seen it in your eyes, you enjoy killing.”

The Reaper’s teeth roughly bit into his lips in anger as blood poured out of the resulting wound.

Marcus smiled, “Before you left us and killed your whole unit, I’ve heard you chant that you just want to grow stronger, but don’t lie to yourself. I know you enjoy killing!”

“Shut up!”

“Stop denying it, if it weren’t for the fact that I treated you like my own son, I wouldn’t have tried to stop those damn Underground Factions from trying to kill you because of all the lives you’ve taken,” with every word he yelled, Grim grew more and more enraged. Instead of facing them, however, his body turned around and walked through the large wooden door and disappeared.

“Denying his problems…” Marcus sighed in depression, “So, what do you want?” his eyes wondered over to Lilith.

Seeing her opportunity, Lilith stepped forward and elegantly bowed before the assassin, “Head Assassin, the two of us have been sent by a demon organization in order to ask for your help concerning information.”

Hearing the beauty’s words, Marcus’ glaring anger lessened, “Concerning what?”

“Rogue demons and angels. We hope that you can help us by providing information concerning any supernatural beings that may appear in the area.”

“So, what’s in it for me?” he asked. Of course, he wouldn’t accept immediately, though they were an organization of assassins, they were also mercenaries, and money was the only thing that could satiate their stomach for greed.

“We can help you suppress the other factions and rise higher,” Lilith’s naturally bewitching face grew rogue and cunning.

Hearing these words, the assassin’s brows raised in curiosity, “How so?”

“An army of thousands, threats of consuming their souls, forging your group of ruffians weapons gifted with astonishing power,” Lilith smiled with shrewdness. Though the Soul Citadel would never interfere with the mortal world, it was necessary with the events occurring in the background. Even she did not know anything occurring, but she put it at the back of her mind. Accomplishing the mission at hand was more important.

“All that for information huh?” Marcus grinned with joy. The reason why he was unable to protect Grim, essentially his son, from death was because of the other factions. If he could push them all to the side and obtain such great power, it would be the end of his worries.

“Deal!”

….

--* Soul Citadel, Underworld *--

Without waiting for Lilith, Grim had left the mortal plane through a portal hidden inside of the bountiful cliff from before. His eyes were red with anger but also regret. Seeing the crimson skies, he truly felt more at home as he walked around the large citadel. Being left alone by himself let him have time to think back upon his death. Feeling his throat and shoulder, he rubbed the large scars marring them.

Remembering the massive assassin’s words, Grim felt anger ball up in his chest. Looking forward, he approached the citadel walls and descended one of its watchtowers. He felt regret, shame and most importantly, confusion. The Reaper truly did not know what he wanted to be, or even what he was.

Grim’s eyes depressingly watched the expansive lands beyond the horizon, filled with who knows what. Remembering his childhood, he realized the comedy of it all. He truly wasn’t special, but his actions really were quite astounding. Killing his parents all because of simple restrictions and groundings, he remembered the feeling of joy when he cut into their necks.

A normal child would have just thrown a tantrum, but Grim escalated into a supreme murderer. Of course, it was short-lived. Regret and fright were the only emotion he remembered after realizing what he had done. That was the start of Grim’s career as a killer. Reaper or not, his childhood was filled with tribulations. The anger he had for himself, the desire to seek approval.

It was all too real.

‘But what now?’ Grim frowned in frustration as his hand clanged tighter and tighter, his nails digging deep into his flesh.

“Am I just a horrific killer? Am I even in the right to kill? The innocent lives I’ve taken all because of my selfishness, all because of my stupidity. Do I even deserve to live?” he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, his ears twitched as he heard footsteps approach him from behind. Standing in the middle of the pathway was a scraggly dressed teenager, his hair in a mess of ruin.

“So, how’d I do, observer?” Grim sneered at the man. Naturally, as a fighter, his senses have risen to unprecedented heights and had felt the man’s eyes following his actions in the moral world.

“Haha, so you did find out,” Chronos laughed as he approached the wall beside Grim and looked out into the vast wasteland as well.

Seeing the Reaper’s depressed look, Chronos smiled lazily as his mouth moved, “Are you affected by the assassin’s words?”

Hearing those words, Grim stared at Chronos. At first, he thought that the teenage boy wanted to mock him, but seeing the boy’s aloof and honest eyes, he could only sigh. It was the first time that he was able to properly have a conversation with someone without any feeling of fear from either side.

A hint of respect grew in his soul as he replied, "I don’t know if I can even live without guilt anymore after realizing my selfish actions of killing and murdering…”

Grim felt a weight lift from his shoulders just as he said those words. It truly tortured him when he realized the sins he has committed, but it was only natural. Why else would the Sins accept him if he was a pure and innocent soul?

“Well, just remember my words,” Chronos’ green eyes shifted over to the Emissary of Wrath, “Feel guilty for all the innocent lives you’ve taken and repent for it, but do sinners, criminals and threats deserve the same mercy?”

With that, Chronos slowly walked away from Grim.

The Reaper’s eyes widened in surprise as he watched the teen leave the watchtower then he suddenly laughed wildly.

“That’s right, I’ll just have to repay for the sins I’ve committed. Let’s continue my legend as a farmer of souls and continue my legacy of Death...”

….

At the base of the wall watchtower, Chronos walked away slowly, his eyes kept their aloof vision.

“Michael, you owe me one. For now, the Sin of Wrath won’t be able to take his soul,” he yawned as a golden flash appeared beside him.

“Thanks, Chronos. His potential is too great to lose; I wish that he can grow more and more powerful so he can assist us,” the Emissary of Pride stepped out of the golden light and walked beside Chronos, “This war might just be dictated by that personification of death, the Grim Reaper…”

“Only time can tell… only time…” Chronos whispered as the two of them walked quietly.

The gears have been set, but how will the story progress? The future is unknown, but death is inevitable. Let time tell the tales of the Grim Reaper and the origin of the heavens, the mortal planes and the home of the Sins, the Underworld.

And so the clock spins.