Reaper

The stench of death

“Feeling a bit better are we?” an almost prudish voice enquired.

The unmistakable smell of formaldehyde and phenyl wafted in the air. This wasn’t a hospital and there was something else, the pungent smell of urea. It was the stench of death.

David Andrews opened his eyes to a bright white light.

“Where am I?” he mumbled. His head was still reeling from concussion and it hurt to move his limbs.

“Well, it’s not heaven if that’s what you are thinking,” answered the other voice. “Take a wild guess, Mr. David.”

David could make neither head nor tail of the situation he found himself plastered in. All he could vividly remember were a pair of coal-black eyes and the vicious claws of some kind of beast tearing at him. He was supposed to be dead; the doctors had even signed the death certificate. But now he found himself waking up inside the police morgue, surrounded by corpses. He felt something hammering inside his head and everything around him seemed like a blurry mess. Clutching his forehead in his palm, he sat up on the steel stretcher.

As he lifted his face, his eyes made out the profile of a tall, bearded old man dressed in black. Though he looked as healthy as a horse, the man’s eyes betrayed a faint flicker of insanity. His face, long and gaunt, with prominent jawbones, would have been a lot more charming if it weren’t for his scraggly black beard. He didn’t seem like he belonged to that day and age. A black top hat rested on his head, which was overflowing with silver gray locks that cascaded along his broad shoulders. A starched high-collared shirt, disciplined with an ashen bowtie, peeped from under his tight, raven-black frock coat, which reached all the way to his calves. He looked more like a ghost of a bygone era than a living, breathing man.

“Who are you? What happened to me?” David asked. His voice was still groggy and incoherent. After a fit of coughing, he resumed his inquiries. “Something attacked me in the alley. Why am I inside a morgue?”

The dark figure of the old man leaned back on his chair and curled his arms together. “Well, Mr. David, you seem very confused. But it’s all rather simple, no complications at all,” he grinned. “You are inside a morgue because that’s where the bodies of the murder victims inevitably end up. You know how it is with post mortems and all the legal formalities.”

Unable to make any sense of what he was hearing, David kept staring at that mysterious stranger in wide-eyed surprise.

The old man continued in his refined voice. “Take your time. I assure you, I am in no hurry. It always takes a while to accept things as they are, especially for a dead man.”

“What kind of sick joke is this? Are you saying that I am dead?” David burst out impatiently.

“You were...” Fixing his searing gaze on David, the stranger sized him up in his mind. “A 25-year-old cop with a surprisingly flexible and well-maintained body. I do envy your tidy brown tresses, but I can’t say the same about your eyes. You have the look of a timid little hare in your black pearls. I am still quite uncertain as to whether granting you a new life was a good idea. I sense far too much conflict in you.”

“It seems like you have done your research on me.”

“Oh, hardly. Everything about you is far too obvious.”

“And who the hell are you?” David reached for his gun only to realize that he had been stripped of everything and was only clothed in a loose gray gown.

“Temper temper.” The mysterious stranger suddenly disappeared from view.

David looked around searchingly. “I must be hallucinating. They must have given me anesthetics at the hospital,” he mumbled to himself.

“You are partially correct.” The voice came from behind. David turned his head around to find the stranger standing behind him. “They did take you to the hospital, but you were declared dead on arrival. A pity!”

“That’s a lie! I am still alive. I can move my limbs, I can speak, and I can walk!”

“And for that you have only me to thank. I do believe a bit of gratitude would go a long way.”

“You are not real. None of this is real!”

“Oh, Mr. David, I am as real as the thing that attacked you in that alley. If it hadn’t been for me, you would have been lying dead on the table right here.”

“You are saying that you saved my life?”

“It appears you haven’t been paying attention.” The stranger rushed in like a shadow and lifted David off his feet. Hoisting him in the air by his collar, the man tore open his gown. “As you can notice, all your wounds have healed and you can no longer feel any pain. I didn’t save your life. For the entire world, you are a dead man. However, I did bring you back from the dead.”

“That’s impossible. No one can cheat death. Are you saying that you are God?”

“I am neither God nor the Devil.” The old man released David from his grip and let him slump down on the chair in which he had been sitting. He bent down and brought his face closer to David’s. “My name is Phoenix Ryder, but most refer to me as The Gatekeeper. I am the one who guards the entrance to Purgatory, the realm of lost souls.”

David swallowed a lump in his throat and spoke in a quivering voice. “What do you want from me?”

“We will eventually come to that. But first I must ask you this. Do you know why I brought you back from the dead?”

“I...am not sure.”

“It was because you belonged neither in heaven nor in hell. You were fated to wander around aimlessly in Purgatory, but I knew your soul didn’t fit in there either. There are far too many contradictions in you. You are indecisive and afraid, but you are also impulsive and selfless. You waited for backup to arrive at the alley because you were scared, but you rushed to the man’s aid after hearing the gunshots because you care too much about people. You fired and you missed because you were inexperienced and finally you died because that was for the best.” He drew in a deep breath and backed away from David, who sat there petrified. “I need your help, Mr. David Andrews.”

“For.... what?” David piped feebly.

“For preserving the balance. If we don’t act now, and by we, I mean you and you alone, then it will be too late. All hell shall break loose on earth and your souls shall burn till the end of time.”

“I am not sure I follow what you are saying, Mr. Ryder.”

“There will be time to talk later. For now, all you need to know is that terrible things are about to unfold on earth. All kinds of malevolent beings are on the loose now and there will be more if they aren’t stopped.” Placing his left hand on David’s shoulder, the man asked, “Mr. David, do you believe in demons?”

“I don’t,” David replied.

The old man closed his eyes and sighed, “That’s too bad, because they certainly believe in you.”