“Excuse m- oh hey Jack,. Kyron hey, up top Chark, oh h-” Palock zips past his fellow reapers, waving at two and quickly high-fiving another before being grabbed by another reaper…Jeni.

“A E Harnor” She blurts out before half-dragging him in the correct direction.

He shrugs his shoulders and they begin hastily making their way down the chilled corridor, making half finished greetings to their fellow reapers, who act as busily as they.

Within a minute, they’ve traversed the length of two corridors, burst into a wide room with ‘East’ carved on the stone door.

With practiced knowledge, they both instinctively turn right once they enter. Power walking through another open door, this time the doorway is encased in a strange, almost invisible viscuous liquid.

Diving into the portal, they soon appear on the other side, wearing traveling garb and wrapped in a disguise of flesh.

“Whoo, been a while since I’ve seen that bod” Jeni chuckles and begins to saunter away from the graveyard, her large breasts bobbing up and down in sync with her curly brown hair.

Palock starts walking after her, enjoying the fresh breeze on his skin.

They both merrily, yet hastily, saunter up and down the meadow hills for a few minutes.

In the near distance they spot a shabby little village, Harnor.

Seems like they’ve come early too…

The place looks as dull as an out of the way village would be; peasants dully milling about with a bored cheer from the inn raising the noise level above silent, every now and then.

Jeni turns to him, her hazel eyes sparkling with boredom, although her mouth is plastered in the relieved smile of someone who just found somewhere safe to sleep for the night.

Maintaining the mask, they bob tiredly down to the inn, getting a few curious stares from the locals, which are deflected by their ‘obvious’ intent to find a place to rest.

Walking through the doors, Jeni takes the lead and almost collapses onto the bar, breasts squishing on wood, her clothes revealing a more than subtle amount.

“May I help you?” The innkeeper seems to slide down the bar towards her, maintaining professionalism with his body, but not his eyes.

“I need a room for me and…” She looks back at Palock, eyes glancing up and down appraising “my brother”

Refraining from throttling her right then and there, he instead gives a tired smile to the innkeeper.

He nods and passes her a key for a silver, before returning to serving the rest, only taking a small eyeful more.

Yawning, she starts to walk upstairs, quickly followed by him.

They find their room and once inside, she jumps onto the bed giving a relieved sigh.

“Ahh, really just want to run naked in a field right now” She wistfully tosses and turns on the bed, trying to imagine the feeling of the wind on her skin.

“And I want to actually get some work done, so what are the details?” He claps his hands, bringing her back to her senses.

She looks up at him and rolls her eyes “Somewhere within today and the next, catastrophe level incident, so a lot of work for us”

“Really? I’ve got to waste an entire day worth of soul collecting to wait?” He groans and plants himself at the foot of the bed.

“Jeesh” She sits up and gives him a flick on the side of his head “You are such a workaholic, lighten up…have some fun” Her hand slides up his thigh slowly and with purpose.

He grabs her delicate hand, encasing it with pudgy fingers.

Looking towards her puppy eyed, lip sadly drooping face, he emotionlessly returns her hand to her own body.

“Really now stop playing, I know you want a taste of this” She whispers into his ear, her hot breath tickling the insides.

“I’m sorry but I don’t fuck my sister” He whispers back.

She gives him an unimpressed look “Come on, it’d definitely raise questions if I said we were lovers. I mean look at me and look at you”

Responding with his own unimpressed face, he crosses his arms over his large belly “So how are you going to explain the fucking?”

“Pal, how many times have we fucked in the last century alone?”

“Two hundred and thirty six times” 

“Ehe, you kept count, weirdo” She chuckles lightly.

“Fuck off”

“Anyways, how many times have we been called out on incest?”

“Fourty six times and I bloody remember the last one” He points towards his neck, where a thin white line circles around, almost as if it were a tan line from a necklace. Though in his case, it was a scar from being hanged.

“Oh really, are you still pis-”

“YES. Being hanged hurts” He calms himself down, letting his anger subside deep within him. He was still annoyed about that, since she had fled in the night, leaving him to get caught and killed in the morning.

“Aww, little baby Pal can’t take a little asphyxiation” She rubs her eyes mockingly, accompanied by a small grin.

Snapping towards her and knowing she’s getting exactly what she wants; his right hand clutches her throat, squeezing the air out of her.

Immediately, slamming her against the wall, she chokes, drool dripping off her chin as her tongue hangs out like a dog.

“Harder...brother” She manages to breathe out and he responds by squeezing more, mostly in anger at her still taking the piss.

She makes choking sounds and her face begins to turn a shade of purple and then a darker shade.

Finally letting her go, she takes a deep breath and drops to her knees, looking up at him with lusty eyes and drool dropping onto her cleavage, tongue out like a dog, sucking up air heftily.

Unbuckling his belt he grabs her arms and ties her hands together, raised above her head before dropping his trousers and his briefs.

Before she can truly recover her breath, he shoves himself in her mouth, hitting the back of her throat and causing her to gag and choke on it.

Pulling out, already her saliva drenches it and he rams it in her again, her head smacking the wall while she gags noisily and messily.

Thrusting a few more times, he gets bored and leading her by her tied hands, almost chucks her onto the bed.

Ripping her leather trousers off, his hand slaps and grabs one of her ass cheeks, releasing a moan of pleasure and pain from her.

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He raises his hand for another slap, but stops midway due to hearing a scream from outside.

Jumping off the bed, he rushes to the window to see the village in commotion; men and women running and screaming, streaming to his left and out of his view.

The reason for this commotion soon appears, leaping onto a running woman, tearing out her throat before devouring her child whole. Its bristly black fur gets splashed with more blood, adding to its already reddening coat.

A worg, rather a pack of them had entered town.

The screams are short lived as the pack of worgs quickly out run and hunt everyone down, massacring all on the streets.

Those inside, bar their doors but the strength of the worgs were severely underestimated: in some houses they bust down the doors with a single charge, in others they burst through the walls or windows with ease.

A crash comes from downstairs, followed by screams and the loud ripping sounds.

Taking out a knife and ripping away his shirt, he stabs himself in scar by his heart with practiced ease.

Dying, his body drops onto the floor but he remains standing, in black robes and a feeling of nothingness.

It’s odd, to suddenly lose the feeling of the heart beating rapidly, or the warmth of flesh, or even the relaxing throbbing down below. All of it gone in an instant, a strange feeling indeed.

Though he has done this many times before, so he quickly gets used to the nothingness.

Jeni quickly joins him in her usual skeleton self, crossing her arms rather annoyed.

A worg summarily bursts into their room and takes a sniff at their bodies before moving on to another room.

So they’re not here for food, interesting

“I know what you’re thinking. Not your job” She chides him before taking lead.

Rattling his head, he follows after her.

Going downstairs, they find the usual souls crying over their slightly mutilated bodies, while some just look shocked.

Jeni grabs their attention with a bark, striding towards one, the innkeeper, and swipes towards him with a hand mirror.

Some souls cry out silently in shock, at the sudden disappearance of the innkeeper.

With brutal efficiency, she darts around swiping away at every last soul in the room.

While she does that, Palock hurries upstairs, gathering the few souls from their rooms.

Within minutes, they are outside and collecting souls from the village square.

It is rather dull work; swiping away at souls which silently scream and try to run away but are still attached to their bodies so cannot.

As they worked the worgs milled about, finding an appropriate body to feed upon.

Sweeping through the houses, they finally move on to the souls standing on the edge of the village; the ones which just reached the meadows but no further.

Though quite unexpectedly, they encounter no souls, rather they encounter a large black undead horse and a carriage adorned made from bones and skin and adorned with familiar skulls, candle lit inside causing the eye sockets to shine brightly.

Next to the carriage is a man in black leather, his decrepit head sitting on the driver’s seat with a hideous grin from ear to ear, eyes darting about furtively, jerking to a stop when it notices the duo.

The body continues yanking the soul forcibly from its body, finally ripping it away, leaving it’s legs behind and immediately the soul pales, becoming more transparent.

Chucking it into his wagon, the Dullahan’s body then turns towards them.

“Excuse me, but what in the name of Norac are you doing?” Palock walks up, cracking his knuckles.

“None of your business…Reaper” The head spits in disgust and its body takes out a long human spine, encased in dry blood.

Sensing the obvious hostility, Palock continues forward, ducking under the spine as it whips out.

Rushing towards the body, he slams into it, taking both of them to the floor.

Immediately he’s flattened by the large body, which drops the spine whip and raises its fists.

Bones crack and his forearms both snap loudly, though doing their duty and guarding his skull.

The second punch never comes as the body, flailing in pain as his head screams.

The carriage begins moving, undead black horse bolting under the command of the Dullahan’s head.

The body catches onto the side of the wagon and gets dragged along as it rushes far away.

“How’d you make him flee?” he asks her from the floor.

“A gold coin in each eye”

She helps him up and picks up his arms for him, slinging them over her shoulder.

Since there are no more souls, to gather, they begin to walk back to the portal, passing by a large pack of worgs which soon dash off in the same direction as the fleeing Dullahan.

“Not my job eh?” He muses as he watches the worgs run off, to which Jeni responds with a shrug.

“Could be coincidence”

“Definitely not” He shakes his head and begins storming towards the portal.

“What was with him too? Never seen a Dullahan take souls before” She muses as they walk through the meadows.

“Never seen a Dullahan’s carriage made from reapers” He responds, to which she looks at him perplexed. “I saw Muran’s skull on top and another’s robe used as a curtain”

They both shiver in slight terror at the fact that the Dullahan was not only doing something was out of his job spec, he had killed reapers…

At least this won’t be dull

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Author's Corner:

Hey! New chappie with new peeps. Hope you enjoyed it and this is the beginning of something awesome i hope!

Well hope you enjoyed it and since i'm bored, expect more!!

Please comment and review your thoughts while I go write more :P (also what is with the cheeky comments from some of you :P?)

-TRUE NORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRD