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The best puppet masters remain hidden. Those watching the puppets can see the strings, but don’t know who is manipulating the puppets. Eventually, the audience will forget there are strings entirely once they are engulfed into the story. Anonymity was the best strategy for those who wanted to play the real power games.
Sadly, Reaper tired of his playthings so easily. Emperors, generals, and common rabble alike had fallen before him, with screams and vacant eyes. He worked his black magic behind the scenes, playing a master game of chess with armies and generations after generations. His game and manipulations had birthed the Terran Empire. The Powers of Be still answered to him when he wished to weigh in.
The mere whisper of THE REAPER was enough to invoke fear in the scariest of men. The 23rd Psalm of the Bible read, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” Sinners learned to fear death for Reaper wasn’t just any evil. He also cast a long, lethal shadow.
John Grimm had earned the nickname of Reaper with a pure and unadulterated talent for delivering death. It was only later in life that he learned the finer points of the kill. Making the prey suffer and linger, like his lovely twin sister had made into an art form. He learned to appreciate and perfect the art of torture. His favourite victims were those who prayed upon children. Even Reaper had morals.
He found Jimmy Kirk on Tarsus IV when he was a part of the landing party of the first relief ships. Reaper found Jimmy locked inside a dog’s cage in the Governor’s office. A boy named Kevin Riley was the Governor’s current favourite pet, but Kodos had spotted Jimmy shortly before the culling. The little shit had actually bit him when Reaper crouched down to try to lure him out from the shadows. Despite being half starved, the kid survived, but had a wild look Reaper hated to see in someone so young.
He learned Jimmy had been forced to watch the massacre in an attempt to break him. It had only made Jimmy stronger. Kodos ordered the dead bodies roasted and fed to the survivors he deemed worthy. Sickeningly, he deemed Jimmy to be worthy and the kid had been force fed when he refused to become a willing cannibal.
Reaper skinned Kodos alive and let Jimmy watch. Right away the kid asked to take a strip off for himself and Reaper let him hack away at Kodos’ thigh with unskilled eagerness. Never once did Jimmy cry or wince, instead he smiled at Reaper with malicious glee. Reaper remembered rubbing off a streak of blood from Jimmy’s cheek and showing him how to get to the bone marrow while the victim lived. He gave Jimmy his favourite blade as a souvenir.
When it was time to leave and slip back into obscurity those blue eyes watched him carefully with guarded adoration.
Jimmy had a whispered, “Take me with you.”
Reaper gave him a crooked grin. “Death always comes a callin’, kid.”
It had been meant to frighten him, but to Jimmy, it had been a promise. Reaper had thought he would be forced to lock Jimmy in a closet when he tried to follow him. He fought with Reaper to stay by his side. The goddamn kid bit him again, sinking his teeth in so deep Reaper had to pry his jaw open to get free.
Finally Reaper had hissed, “Only when you’re ready.”
Jimmy had licked Reaper’s blood off his lips and smirked. He squared his shoulders and held his head high, then saluted Reaper. Later he found out that Jimmy set the remains of Kodos on fire, burning down the entire building.
Reaper made sure Jimmy got a placement in the best Academy Military Prep-School. Buying him safety wouldn’t do him any good in a ruthless world. The kid didn’t just sink or swim in his new environment. He ended up doing the preverbal Tholian backstroke. Jimmy thrived at the boarding school. When he was fourteen, he castrated an upper class man for trying to molest him. Reaper sent the kid a note to kill the bastard and signed it with a skull and bones. The next morning Jimmy strung up the body of his enemy in the main quad. During his three hours in the agonizer booth as punishment, Jimmy never screamed once and got an automatic A+ in his strategic advancement class.
Reaper watched him grow from a distance. He watched Jimmy claw, fight, and charm his way up the food chain. Reaper would’ve killed anyone who dared to mark Jim’s skin if they weren’t already dead by Jim’s whim. Every scar would be erased and replaced by one made by Reaper.
Reaper’s boy grew into a beautifully dark man. Ruthless and violent, with a temper hidden behind a winning and oh-so-dangerous smile. He inspired fear and awe in his wake. He didn’t burn as bright as the sun. Jim was a goddamn supernova.
Leonard McCoy was an alias Reaper took on to enter the Academy. A doctor was the perfect cover and made him think of Sam, bless her twisted departed soul. Running into Jim on the transport was not a coincidence. The slight southern drawl and time since Tarsus IV wasn’t enough to fool Jim. Reaper had known it wouldn’t be.
“I may throw up on ya,” Reaper said in way a greeting.
“I may kill you,” Jim shot back with a wicked grin. He knew exactly who was sitting beside him and he was willing to play the game.
“You can try.”
“I think these things are pretty safe. Me, I’m anything but safe.”
“Don't pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. Solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And, wait till you're sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles, see if you're so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”
Jim licked his lips and settled his hand on Reaper’s knee, caressing up his thigh. “Well, I hate to break this to you, but the Empire Fleet operates in space. Besides, I like darkness.”
“Yeah. Well, I got nowhere else to go, the ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I got left is my bones after I killed her.”
Jim’s hand made it up to Reaper’s crotch, squeezing the hardness he found there. Grabbing Reaper’s hand he brought it over to mirror the action in Jim’s lap. With a smirk, Jim guided Reaper’s hand from his cock to his thigh where he had a large dagger strapped on with leather ties.
“I think you’ve got more than your bones.”
Reaper caressed the knife life the old friend that it was. “Are ya ready to take on the world, kid?”
Jim sprawled back in his seat, pushing Reaper’s hand back to his crotch. “Death always comes a callin’.”
“Death owns you,” Reaper whispered.
“Bring it on, Bones.”
BONES. “How appropriate,” Reaper thought.
Some philosophers claimed that love was a weakness. They had never loved James T. Kirk. Reaper had built and controlled the Empire. Now he had found a soul mate to help him rip it asunder for fun.
When Jim was ready, he would kill him. Reaper groaned in ecstasy thinking of how he would use their dagger. He would plunge it into Jim’s heart and then feed him his blood. Together they would bring stunning havoc to the universe.
Everybody dances with the Grim Reaper, but there is only one who lives to tell about it.
END.