Note: Reaper standalone chapter w/ ReaperxWidowmaker moment. Mostly Reaper standalone

Northern Estate, Venice, Italy. Post – Masquerade, 2:37am

"D-don't do this…please."

His armored claws tightened around the handle of his weapon – his arm slowly raising the barrel towards his targets head.

"I…" The target coughed, blood splurting from his mouth and into his cuffed hands, his suit was already torn from the running and the several bullet wounds that spread from his thighs to his lower waist were leaking his ever declining blood.

"I…I'll do anything. P-please! I never wanted to betray the Council. Vialli just brought up the subject of change!"

The masked shadow murmured beneath his breath, "It's nothing personal. You were just another liability."

"P-please! I have a fami…"

A loud bang roared throughout the estate. Then it was silent. Time seemed to slow down as the target's lifeless body slowly slid across the wall, plummeting to the ground with a lifeless thump. Through his mask he watched as the blood from his head oozed through the marble pavement. Time resumed into its normal state, the wraith letting out a deep breath which stained the courtyard's night air. Murdering a statesman in the middle of his own mansion. What a job, what a life worth dying for.

His head peered over his shoulder; the shot of course woke the residents living inside that mansion. It didn't matter, the last of the Council traitors were dealt with. It was surprising that the people hear them earlier from the chase he had to go through in order to track him down. The Reaper deteriorated into a soft shadow and repositioned himself on the roof of the mansion. The doors busted open, butlers and maids rushing out to the dead corpse who was once their master. Reaper peered over his shoulder and scoffed.

"This was a waste of my time…" His heavy boots slowly began to trudge forward.

"Daddy!"

Reaper stopped and slowly turned his body back and looked down on the courtyard. A young woman accompanied by a small girl slowly walked towards the body.

"Don't look Amanda!" The woman would cry, shielding the child's eyes and encouraging her to turn away – it was obviously the statesman's wife. Reaper's eyes glanced towards the small girl in her arms…it was obviously the statesman's daughter, no more than twelve he'd guess. The girl broke from her mother's arms and rushed towards her father's body, kneeling in the pool of blood and sobbing against his chest.

"Daddy…please don't leave me. Y-you were supposed to take me to the park tomorrow…p-please."

The mother instantly picked up the weeping child, her eyes sharing the same painful cries.

"It's ok Amanda…" She lied through her teeth.

Reaper narrowed his eyes, gently lowering himself on one knee and looked down at the two women, tears streaming down both their faces. He honestly didn't know what to think of this. That man was a corrupt bureaucrat who involved himself with a terrorist organisation, now he screwed himself over and got what he had deserved – Talon did justice in a way. But as he directed his gaze from the women, to the corpse lying infront of them – he grinded his teeth and his pupils turned lupine. That fucking corrupt scumbag of a human being had something even he doesn't have – people who cared about him.

Reaper paused, something didn't feel right in him. Realising what it was – he stood up and turned, escaping from the scene.

The girl sobbed into her mother's shoulder, only to look up to the roof as she felt she was being watched – the roof was empty, her eyes only catching the mere sight of the tail of a black trench coat disappearing into the roof.

"M-mum." She said as she sobbed.

The mother looked at her with teary eyes, "What is it Amanda?"

"I…I think I saw an Angel."

Venice, Italy. Talon Safehouse, 2:55am

Reaper sat down on his chair, placing his hellfires on the table next to him and looked out the window, watching as the sirens belonging to both police and ambulance lights rush past the traffic lights and avoiding late night drivers. The wraith couldn't help but smirk, as he knew that the man inside one of those vehicles was already dead, if not – then already bled to death.

Realising that the peculiar feeling inside him persists, he begins to getup from his seat and walk towards his bathroom. He treaded across the wooden floorboards slowly in an attempt to not make too much noise as Sombra and Widowmaker resided close by in the rooms next to his. Not that it mattered too much in his opinion. Most likely Widowmaker would be adjusting her rifle until the next dawn and Sombra might not even be in the safehouse – probably conducting her own operations.

Reluctantly, he threw his gauntlets onto a chair next to his bed, next dismantling his armour and throwing his trenchcoat off his body and placing them neatly on the chair. He sat down on his bed and took off his boots before finally removing the pale white mask that was dawned over his face for nearly days. He placed them all over the chair and finally walks into the bathroom.

Once inside he hung the towel on a hook hanging from the door to the shower space and made his way infront of his mirror and sink. Tired and uncaring, Reaper turns the tap to the hot water and cups it into both of his hands, splashing it over his face – releasing a low and composed sigh. He raises himself up, turning the tap off and stared into the mirror – his reflection looking straight at him.

Through narrowed eyes, he hated what he saw. He turned his head, realizing that some of his scars on his left cheek had re-opened, leaking blood down his cheek and nestled into his beard. He swipes the blood away and turns his head once more, noticing that his toned skin on his right cheek begun to wither into a light gray tint.

"Fuck…" He murmured to himself. This is what usually happened when he's gone too long from feeding. Scars begin to open, skin begins to decay, eyes become bloodshot – and in one extreme case, parts of his body become black: into God knows what. Reaper never managed to find out what the last phase of his feeding neglect was, and he certainty doesn't intend to know at all.

Reaper takes off his black combat shirt and throws it idly to a nearby stand. His eyes glanced down his torso. He notices nothing across his pectorals, his arms and his abdomen. He tenses slightly as he looks into the mirror. His hair and beard turned from a dark brown to a toned silvery gray. Parts of his torso erode to the similar gray colour of his right cheek while other parts of his body continue to hold his former character.

"Gabriel Reyes…" Reaper says into the mirror as he watches the gray sectors spread sluggishly across his body – invading his toned skin. "What have you become?"

The gray spots stopped spreading and Reaper looked into the mirror – finding the empty shell of the man he once was. His body seemed to be completely decayed with the exception of his left arm, right pectoral and some parts of his abdomen. He looked into the mirror, his beard was gray with the exception of several strands retaining their dark brown colour – the same could not be said with the rest of his hair, having turned completely gray.

His face still preserved the dark tone of brown with the exclusion of his right cheek. He met the eyes of his reflection – bloodshot and lifeless.

"I should've drained that fucker when I had the chance…" His tongue slowly lurks over his teeth yet instantly pulls it back as he feels them prick his tongue. He opens his mouth, discovering that his once human teeth had emerged as fangs. His face flinched slightly as he felt the blood leak from his tongue and run through his teeth – ultimately landing back over his tongue. The copper taste of blood never irritated him before, but for some strange reason, at this moment in time – he couldn't help but despise it.

However his current form didn't matter as of now. He knew that right now was merely a moderate phase of his feeding neglect. A few more days without feeding, and he wouldn't even know what he would become. With a snarl, Gabriel turns around and enters his shower space – trying to relieve his thoughts with a cool wash. As the water runs down his muscular body he couldn't help but close his eyes, look up at the showerhead and smile. Happiness was a luxury Gabriel could never afford – a sad truth in retrospect. But whenever he's alone, especially in his current state, he finds rare moments to reminisce, to wonder, to finally think.To actually think about the times when he was happy. When he actually had a family to look towards. A family that watched his back.

A family that would never abandon him.

Reyes blinked his eyes, looking down and turning off the water – swiping the residue off his face and stepped out of the space, drying himself off with the towel. He felt tired and run down, soon Doomfist would be a functioning member to the Talon Council once more – and operations will resume as they usually do. But tonight, Gabriel needed sleep.

Reyes glanced towards the mirror once more and looked infront of him yet paused. He slowly turns his head towards the mirror – fear beginning to crawl across his body. In his reflection, shadowy tendrils surrounded the wraith's body. His face was completely contorted, demonic eyes replaced his human ones – his jaw resembled the jaw of a shark, rows of long, sharp teeth armed against his gums. His entire body descended into a dark grey, bits of flesh and decaying muscle hung off his body.

Reyes looked into the reflection and the demonic reflection looked back – seemingly laughing at him.

"Don't…mock…me." Reyes murmured at the mirror. The demon increased its bellowing laughter, echoing into Gabriel's mind.

"Stop…laughing."

The demon did not heed, instead – it continued its laughter and slowly walked towards the edge of the mirror while Reyes was standing completely still, beginning to clamber out of the mirror. With narrowed eyes, Gabriel clenched his fist and spoke to himself once more.

"I will not…become you."

The reflection moved its figure closer to Reyes, it's many demonic, red eyes blinking erratically at him. Its long arm stretched out and extended its long claws towards Gabriel's face, it's echoing laughter drilled into his ears.

"DIE!" Gabriel roared, throwing his clenched fist towards the demonic figure and shattering the glass mirror behind it, pieces of glass spilling into the sink and some landing on the floor. Reyes blinked and the demonic reflection was gone. He looked at his body, plastered with the gray patches yet was thankfully accompanied by toned skin. He looked at one of the remaining shards left on the mirror infront of him, he had no demonic eyes yet they were still bloodshot. It didn't matter, he was still in his moderate neglect form – as long as that thing did not take his character. He needed to feed soon if he wanted to get rid of these visions.

Reyes soon discovered that he was panting heavily and sweat was beginning to build along his back. Fear had not gripped him like this in a long time. It felt as if by looking at the demon in the mirror – his body was collapsing and what's left of his soul was being torn out of his core. Gabriel shook his head and raised his fist to look at it. Bits of glass had lodged its way into his knuckles and blood was dripping from the injuries. As soon as Gabriel tried to take the pieces out, a hard knock came to his door.

No doubt the booming shatter of glass was loud and most likely woke someone up. Most likely one of the Talon watchers checking to see what happened, yet the wraith couldn't be seen like this – not in his decaying state. Reyes quickly dries himself off and throws on his black combat attire before walking to the door. Maybe his face would scare the Talon watcher away and leave him in peace for the rest of the night.

As the wraith opened the door ever so slightly, expecting to scare the man away. He paused, surprised to find Widowmaker standing at his door with her arms crossed, sporting nothing but a navy blue nightgown over her curvy physique. Her hair was untied yet curled; allowing her long, spread hair to sprawl over her back. With a calm, yet cold voice she asked the wraith a question.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Gabriel, appalled at how calm she is – wondered about why she isn't deterred at all at his appearance yet realised that his room was in complete darkness, as a result shielding her from his form. He sighed shallowly and responded with a graveled tone, baring his sharp teeth.

"Sorry, guess I woke you up huh? I didn't know you even slept Larcroix. I…er. Had an accident."

Widowmaker stood there with an arched eyebrow and tapped her finger over her crossed forearms, unsatisfied with his answer.

"Accident? Hmph, absurdité." "I have nothing more to say about it Larcroix." Reyes responded harshly, making it clear he did intend to expand on the subject. Widowmaker stood there for a few more moments, eying the wraith down with her pure gold eyes and stern lips before shaking her head and confirming that the subject was not worth to ramble on about. As Widowmaker walked down the hallway back to her room, Gabriel called for her.

"Amélie…"

She darted a cold look over her shoulder and clenched her fists. Gabriel, taken back by her sudden look of hostility, realised his mistake and corrected himself. "…Widowmaker." The woman turned around and folded her arms, impatiently waiting for what he had to say.

"Out of pure curiosity…" Reyes walks out of his room and exposes his face to the hallway light, clearly depicting his dying features on top of his normal saturated face. He motions his hand over his face, "…This."

As a test, Gabriel wanted to see what her reaction was to his grotesque sight, expecting her to wince in disgust or at least widen her eyes in shock. Yet the result was something completely different. Widowmaker stands there, undeterred and not moving a muscle. Her arms remained folded and her finger tapped on her forearm.

The wraith, surprised from her motionless reaction arched an eyebrow, "You're not…scared?"

Widowmaker straightens herself, "Why should I be?"

"So, when you're looking at this…this…monster. You're not scared?"

With a sigh, the woman slowly walks up the man and stands directly infront of him. Once more she parts her lips and speaks with her assassins tone.

"My heart does not beat. I do not feel the cold, even in the harshest conditions. I disregard the thought of anyone being 'close' to me. I do not feel regret nor pity to those I have killed, nor do I ever intend to. So when you ask me, why I'm not scared at looking at a 'monster'. Perhaps I should ask the same to you. Why aren't you scared of the monster infront of you?"

Gabriel stood motionless; appalled at the degradation the woman put herself in.

"Why am I not scared? Because we're both monsters." With that, Widowmaker finally turns and makes her way towards her room. She pauses and makes one final remark.

"Also, you should clean the wounds on your hand. Blood isn't easy to wash from carpet." She walks into her room and closes the door behind her.

Reyes couldn't help but smile after her statement. In ways more than one, they are the same. Gabriel turns back towards his room, pulling out the shards of glass from his bloody knuckles, cleaning it in the process and finally makes his way to his comfortable bed.

"Hmph, tomorrow is a good opportunity to show Angela what she has done to me."

Reyes turns his head to the side and falls into a deep slumber.