The Grim Reaper’s Mate

The Intruder

“Goodnight, sir”, I bid my father goodnight as I turned to my tent. Dinner had been a quiet affair. My father did not speak to me as he ate, and I reciprocated the comfortable silence. It's not like I had anything to say to him. He's a stranger to me. However, tonight he addressed me as he hadn’t in many years.

“Goodnight, my Christine. I love you.”

I was startled and turned toward the voice of my father. He already had his back to me and was entering his tent. I swear for just a second I heard the voice of the man I used to know as my beloved father. My eyes filled with tears as I whispered after him,

“Goodnight... father. I loved you, too.”

I shook my head and tried to overcome the rising grief in my heart. It was like hearing the voice of the dead. Someone I had already mourned and long since closed my heart to had just haunted my thoughts. I was sure I would not hear from that man again. It must have been an accidental slip-up on his part. A momentary lapse of judgement. The happy, kind, loving, warm father who told his daughter he loved her didn’t exist in that body any more. I was shaken out of my grief and reverie by the voice of one of our security guards.

“Miss, this is unsafe territory. It is best if you go on into your tent and rest. We’ll be standing guard for you.”

I glanced at the young man who addressed me, not looking him in the face. The security never addressed me. The young man’s voice was soft and gentle. He sounded kind. I didn’t remember any of the security team members with that kind of voice. He must be new and not yet hardened to the ways of this accursed life.

“Thank you,” I respond softly. “I was lost in my thoughts for a moment. Goodnight.”

I stepped into my sleeping quarters and sighed. I liked his voice. He wasn’t facing me, but I also liked his build. He seemed like he was a strong and handsome man, even from behind. I longed for a man like that to sweep me off my feet and love me. I wanted to snuggle into his lap and fall asleep against his chest in a small, warm home. I don’t want to live with a rich, distant husband in a massive, cold house. I want to live with a caring, loving man in a warm home. Our home. Where every room has happiness and memories. Just like my tiny childhood home had for me. Sometimes, I felt like there was some kind of presence around me, loving me from afar. It was strange, sensing this feeling of being loved from afar but never identifying where it was coming from. My therapist has told me it's my subconscious child longing for the love of the parents I lost. I don't think I agree with that, but it sounds less crazy, so I go with it.

My name is Christine Rivers, and I am 20 years old. I am the privileged only daughter of Maxwell Rivers. When I was younger, his friends would call him ‘Axell’ since he also worked on cars for a little extra money. He could do anything and fix anything. Except his marriage. He couldn't fix his wife's longing for wealth and her discontent with a simple life. No amount of extra money was ever enough for her.

My mother’s name was Leslie Rivers before she left and remarried to become the all-powerful Lady Leslie Lillington. I have two half siblings and one step-sibling from what I understand, but I have never met them and do not even know their names. My father never spoke of them, and I only know of their existence from gossip at dinner parties, which was pretty limited hearsay despite the great love of gossip in those circles.

I sat down on my cot now that I was ready for bed. It was a hot night, and no one would bother me, so I opted to sleep in the nude tonight. I did enjoy that after being bound in heavy clothes all day every day. Luxury clothes LOOKED nice, but they were very uncomfortable. Plus, they broke my skin out if I didn’t give my skin a chance to breathe. I snuggled down into my organic Egyptian cotton sheets and breathed in the fresh air. It was intoxicating. I grabbed one of my favorite novels and read a couple of chapters before extinguishing my light and closing my eyes.

It seemed like only seconds later that I was startled awake by the feeling of a presence in my room. I sat up quickly with a gasp and saw a shadow move into the corner quickly.

“Who’s there?” I asked in fear.

No answer.

“I can clearly see that you are in the corner. You might as well answer me.” I said smugly. I was lying as I couldn't really see anything, but the shadow I thought I saw darted into the corner, so I might as well use my poker face. I felt a tingle of terror run down my spine as my body reacted to potential danger. The shadow moved. I heard a soft sigh, and then the shadow person stepped a little closer. I quickly reached for my flashlight and turned it on. I didn’t want to use my lamp and alert everyone if it was a false alarm. This person might be murdered by my father if he or she was discovered in my tent.

I shone my light up and onto his face. He squinted, and I mumbled a, “sorry”, as I dropped the light a bit and looked at him. I had never seen him before. He was...handsome. The dim light didn’t do him justice. I couldn’t make out exact details about him, but his features were perfect. He had a pointed face with a chiseled jaw and a thin chin. His eyes were exotic in their shape and color. They looked like the sea green color of the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Greece, from what I could tell. I couldn’t see the exact color due to the low light, but the flashlight shining did give me the impression of either blue or green. Maybe both. Either way, I felt like I was looking at an ocean. I must have been gawking because his eyebrows shot up in amusement.

“What are you doing in here?” I managed to ask the intruder nervously.

"I'm sorry, my lady," he began coldly. I shivered. This was the same voice as the kind security guard who addressed me earlier, so why did he sound so different now? Was this a different person with a similar voice? "I've been hired to kill you and your father tonight. Everyone else has already been taken care of except you. Nothing personal, miss. It's just business, you see."

I stared at him, my eyes fully adjusted to the light. He didn't look terribly menacing. He looked more resolved. Like this was something he had to do. Two emotions crashed together in that moment. A desire to live and a desire to die.