Chapter 1 - Thanatos the Aimless

Ferran was crouching behind the bushes. His heart had been beating with a fear filled kind of excitement since quite a while now. He had prepared himself for days, both physically and mentally, and yet, when confronted with the situation he had simulated in his mind so many times, he could still feel his body trembling.

A hand placed itself on his shoulder. Ferran looked to his right. His best friend was sitting there, leaning against the tree, with a concerned look on his face. Taion had be with him through all of this. While he wasn't very impressed by his decision, he still supported Ferran throughout the whole plan, not only lending him a helpful hand but also calming him down and reminding him of what's important. Truly, a better friend was unimaginable for Ferran. That's why he cannot allow himself to fail today.

He once more tightened his grip. The metal on his hand feels cold and heavy. His fingers were securely placed away from the trigger. It was surprisingly easy to get hold of a simple gun like this once you turn 18 years old. He had bought it a few months ago, training with it every day, mostly shooting on empty cans - but he had also successfully shot on living, moving animals. He had the confidence. One shot should be enough. Get up, aim, hold still, shoot. That's all there is to it. It will be over within seconds. Ferren leaned to the side, turning his head as he shifted some of the greenery to the side. A man was walking on the small road, his back turned away. He was clothed in a long, black coat. A hoodie was covering his head. His legs were completely hidden by long, thick pants. Combined with robust winter boots and a pair of think gloves, the man made a rather unique appearance, especially considering that it's already late May, with the temperature rising in the past few days. There was no doubt, it had to be him. The notorious serial killer. "The Black Reaper" or "Tanathos the Aimless" are both names assigned to this killer. Since years, the Gundo region had been plagued by mysterious deaths. At the beginning, they were all declared as the results of some kind of stroke or heart problem, but more and more reports were posted online: the existence of a cloaked man, who's mere presence can kill. Of course, it sounds like nothing more than a fairy tale, but as more and more reports kept appearing, with some being relatively credible, a lot of people began to believe these supernatural rumors. More and more people told stories of this suspect walking aimlessly through the woods, sometimes even being spotted in the streets of a city. There were even pictures taken of this suspected "Reaper", though his face was never properly captured. Worst of all, as relatives of the victims tried to get the police on the case, they were all rejected. the police gave the unsatisfying response of the deaths being "completely natural" and that there is no evidence for this suspect to actually exist, much less that he is responsible for the deaths.

But Ferran knew better. It can't be a coincidence that Tanathos the Aimless had be present in all of the reported cases. Plus, Ferran knew that the deaths could not be of natural cause.

Thanatos the Aimless. A cruel man who murders without prejudice. Nobody is safe. Not even Ferran's little sister. She died a few months back. She was just 10 years old.

Back then, she had been playing hide and seek in the forest with her friends. Ferran was in his room, playing on his Computer when her friends stormed into his room, all of them in complete panic as they tried to tell him what had happened.

"She just fell over and stopped moving!"

"We were trying to talk to this weird man!"

"It wasn't our fault!"

"We couldn't help her, we had to run away!"

By the time Ferran had arrived to the spot where her friends had led him, his dear sister's body was completely lifeless. Her eyelids were shut open, but her eyes were staring into the nothingness. She was rolled on her back, with a violet flower placed on her chest. The sight was deeply imprinted in Ferran's mind. He would never forget it. Every night he had problems falling asleep.

"What if I had been with her? What if I didn't allow her to play in the forest? What if I reached her body faster?"

These thoughts kept repeating in his head, over and over and over and over again. They would not let him enjoy a single moment. Ferran regretted very little decision he had made that day, no matter how insignificant. But he knew he couldn't fix this. There was no going back, and there was no way to bring his dear sister back to life. He would never see her smile again, he would never hear her voice again - all of it was gone. is parents had taken the loss even worse than him. When it happened, they were on vacation, and Ferran had the responsibility to watch over the house and his sister. He wondered if his parents blamed him for her death, but he wouldn't know. They barely talked after that. The only times when he would hear their voice was through the thin walls of the house, when he could hear their crying. Or when they tried to convince the police to do something about this situation, which always ended in useless arguments that led nowhere. The police would not help them. Ferran wasn't sure if it was due to incompetence or if there was more to it, but it didn't matter. If the police won't catch the killer, then Ferran would.

He broke his sight off the killer and looked back at Taion, before giving him a confident nod. Taion didn't have a gun with him, but he decided to accompany him on his mission as a sort of backup. Who what kind of weapon the killer had with him. Considering that there were no physical marks left on the bodies, maybe it was some kind of poison? But then again, the autopsies discovered nothing of that sort either. So in either case, Ferran had to be prepared for anything. If this monster truly had some supernatural abilities, then so be it.

He took a big, long breath before standing up. He turned around, stretching his arms as he took aim and-

Where was he? The killer had disappeared. Did he leave the hiking path? Why? Did he maybe notice them!?

Ferran's heart was going crazy. This wasn't how he had planned it. He expected it to be over within seconds - what if his determination wouldn't last longer? What if the killer had run away, maybe leaving the region for good after realizing he had been found out? Would Ferran be able to track him down? Did he just waste his one chance-

Taion walked out of the bushes. Unlike Ferran, his face was still showing an unwavering determination. That's right, this wasn't over. The chance at revenge had not sipped through his fingers just yet.

Slowly and carefully, while trying not make much sound, the two of them sneaked along the path. Even if the killer had deviated from the path, he wouldn't be able to get much distance between them in just mere seconds. And considering how thick the forest was, there would be a good amount of rusting if the killer decided to move. That led the Ferran and Taion to the same conclusion: the killer was silently hiding. With each step the took, they carefully looked behind every bush and every tree. He had to be here somewhere.

Ferran readied his fingers on the trigger as he pointed the gun behind a tree. Nothing. It's fine. It will be fine. He just had to continue searching, he was sure to find-

A loud crack. The man in the cloak appeared out of nowhere, right above Ferran. He was falling, and the branch he had just been standing on with him.

"This guy had climbed on the tree!?" Ferran thought in panic, as he took a step back, shifting the gun to aim at the attacker. The man landed on his feet, but even though Ferran expected him to stand up, he instead used the momentum of the fall to roll over, instantly closing the distance. The gun was aimed downwards, but it was already too late. The man in the coat had grabbed the barrel of the weapon with his right hand, forcing it to the side, when a single shot was fired, missing it's target completely. Ferran tried to pull the gun out of the killer's grip, but it was impossible. The glove of the reaper was tightly surrounding the barrel, seemingly using all of his force to now allow it to move. Ferran finally got a good look at the killer of his sister. He had covered the lower part of his face with some kind of white fabric, but his dark eyes were still visible. Eyes that seemed almost endless, like Ferran was staring inside a tunnel with no exit. Black strands of hair were sticking out under his hoodie. All in all, the man looked younger than expected, maybe even of similar age as Ferran himself. But that didn't matter. A killer is a killer. For some reason, Tanathos was using his mouth to spull his left hand out of the glove, but not without breaking eye contact. He didn't know why, but this sent shivers down Ferrans spine.

"Taion!" he creamed in desperation. He wasn't alone. Taion had always been with him. He had always helped him. Taion had an answer to everything. He could find a solution to any kind of problem. This is fine. Taion will come to his help. And so he did.

With aggressive speed, Taion ran towards his friend, already raising his hand for a punch. At the same time, Ferran leaned back, using the gun, which was held in place by the monster in front of him, as support. He lifted his knee, planning to kick the killer in the face as Taion was in punching distance. And yet suddenly, Ferran fell backwards. The killer had let go of the gun, making Ferran lose balance and fall on his back. That wasn't what he had anticipated, but at least he had recovered full control over the gun. He pushed himself back up, witnessing how the man skillfully caught Taion's punch with his left, bare hand, redirecting the momentum while grabbing hold of Taions neck. Ferran immediately aimed the gun once again, and this time the killer had no chance to grab onto it. Instead, he pushed Taion on his knees, using him as some kind of shield. Only small parts of the Reapers body were sticking out behind his best friend, but Ferran was not confident enough to take the shot.

"Let go, asshole!" Taion tried to resist, squirming in the killers grasp, before he suddenly stopped. His head fell down to his neck, his arms, which were flailing around before, suddenly went limb. His entire body sacked down, only being held up by Tanathos.

And there it was again. The eyes that stared into the nothingness. Ferran felt like puking before he had even realized what just happened.

"W-What did you do to him!? Tell me or I'll shoot!" Ferran screamed. He wanted to get up on his feet and get more distance between them, but he couldn't. Not a single muscle would do as Ferran commanded. It was like his fear had manifested as chains, holding him down and disallowing him from moving.

"Ah... this? I killed him. Sorry, I had no choice." Tanathos said in a nonchalant tone. His voice was coarse and barely audible. No, this made no sense. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"How!? Why!? That's impossible! You...! You're a monster! Killing people like it's nothing!" Ferran yelled. He could feel tears welling up, and his mind was torn between grief and denial.

"Hm? Didn't you attack me first?" Even though Ferran couldn't see the murderer, his voice was missing all sort of regret. In fact, it sounded like he was completely unfazed by this situation. A psychopath. A monster. A cruel man who deserved to die.

His hatred freed him out of his fear, and Ferran leaped to the side, trying to gain a new angle of attack. The murderer reacted fast, shifting the dead body as well, while pushing himself off the floor towards Ferran. How could someone use a person they just killed as a shield? How heartless must a person be?

But as Tanathos pushed himself onto his feet and towards Ferran, his head was slightly visible behind the shoulder of of the dead body. Ferran had managed to shoot down rabbits with this gun, at a far greater distance as well. He could do it. This was his chance. Closing one eye. Shifting the gun. Aiming. Putting force onto his fingers.

The sound of the shot ringed in his ears, temporarily disorienting him. Drops of blood were thrown through the air. But Tanathos did not stop moving. Instead, Ferran noticed a stain of dark blood on the shoulder of his best friend. He had failed.

The left hand of the murderer shot towards him, successfully grabbing Ferran's wrist. He tried to pull himself free, but he once again had no chance. The grip was too strong.

What now? Was he going to get poisoned? How would he die? Was there no way to survive?

His thoughts ran wild, before a warm feeling struck him. It started by his wrist and slowly creeped up his arm. Soon, his entire upper body was engulfed by it. It was so calming. Like it removed all tensity out of his body.

Ferran looked at the face of his dead friend. He wanted to feel sad. He wanted to die with anger and anguish like he was supposed to. But instead, there was none of that. The feeling just rushed through his veins, filling up his entire body. He could feel his muscles disobeying as he felt himself falling. He fell for such a long time. He thought about his life. What he had done, what he hadn't done. What he regretted, what he wanted to do. How far away was the ground? He didn't know. By the time his body hit the forest floor, Ferran had already left.

Wayde sighed as he looked at the two bodies. Another two, huh? Lately this has been happening more often, it seems he had become somewhat famous.... what an annoyance.

He walked over to his glove, picking it back up and putting it on, before carefully laying the two bodies next to each other.

"This could be useful..." he mumbled to himself, picking up the gun and storing it in the wide pocket of his coat.

He stood up, and for a few moments, he just stared at the corpses. Did they attack him because he had killed someone they knew? How long had they planned this? What led to this? Why did they have to die? Either way, they must've hated Wayde quite a lot.

Slowly, with a lot of hesitating, Wayde placed his hand on his chest. It was beating, sure, but... still not faster than usual.

He tried not to think about it as he walked away, on his search for two flowers.