Plead for the Widow

Chapter 4

For this Perishable Body

Reaper groaned to himself as he removed his black gauntlets, exposing a pale, dry skin with multiple scabs and black spots. He then threw the gloves on his small bed and looked at a small vase of flowers, which he subsequently held and looked at.

The flowers started to rapidly wilt and dried out destructively, but this caused a chain reaction that caused Reaper's skin to gain some vitality- things like a hint of brown color and the removal of some of the scabs and dark spots. Unfortunately, this event faded as quickly as it appeared, and the pale dry skin returned once more to plague Reaper's left arm.

"Hmph." Reaper growled and then heard the muting of the shower, which told him that Widowmaker was done, "About time." he grumbled and stood up, but then remembered to put on his gauntlets in order to hide his condition.

"It is finished." Widowmaker appeared with a bath robe, "The lavatories are free for you to use." she muttered and stepped aside.

Reaper walked past her and gave a small grunt, then stood in front of the door in silence.

"It's a motel, not the Babylon Five Star." Widowmaker grumbled, "And do not tell me you will bathe in those heavy drapes." she scoffed.

"Don't be stupid." Reaper growled and stepped inside, locking the door in haste.

There was an audible thud when Reaper's robes fell to the ground, and then the subsequent inner clothing added another wave of bumps and noises that indicated the clothing articles were probably armored or at least had something in them.

Reaper took a look of himself in the mirror, a horrible vestige of what once was a strong soldier now a rotting heap of meat struggling to stay alive and functioning. His left eye could hardly be called an eye, and his right eye was no better- or more precisely, and not even there at all- which could be for better or for worse. His lips were also missing, was was most of his nose, probably a good reason to keep his mask on since his face could quite literally be called a nightmare, though it was getting better due to these areas slowly regenerating.

Without further observation, Reaper stepped into the shower and turned it on, letting the cool water hit his face and body.

Outside, Widowmaker clothed herself in a nightgown, but then walked to Reaper's bed and lifted the pillow. The woman then put a small poison mine under the pillow and set the pillow down in order to keep her device hidden. "Just in case." the woman muttered and then sat down on a small recliner and opened up a book.

2 chapters into the book, the woman heard the shower shut off, and as if on cue the door opened, revealing Reaper in his inner clothing and mask, but not with his heavy cloak, which he carried in his arms.

"Bonjour." Widowmaker analyzed the man, who appeared leaner without that massive coat, "I see you have bathed."

Reaper nodded and sat on his bed, glaring at the woman while setting down his cloak on the cloak on the ground.

"We report to the airport and board a private flight." Widowmaker closed her book, "We will be briefed in the jet before touching down in Portugal."

"Portugal." Reaper mumbled to himself, "Where in Portugal?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" Widowmaker responded bluntly, "We are landing in the nearest Talon base... Which was in Portugal if you recall." she said condescendingly.

Reaper clenched his first, then laid on his bed.

"Sleeping with your regular clothes... so insecure for such a hothead." Widowmaker taunted a bit, "Now I would get my sleep, we are getting up early." she shut off the lamp and the room went dark.

However, it didn't go dark for the Reaper, who suddenly gained a strange form of vision that highlighted living things in a scale from glowing orange to cool blue.

Unfortunately for Reaper, the most he could see was either the cockroaches in the roof and walls or the occasional rat that crept through the same places or even the sewer pipes.

Then again, there was Widowmaker next to him, and what appeared to be a distant couple probably three rooms away.

Reaper stood up and shuffled out of bed, then walked up to a nearby wall and drove his fist into it.

Widowmaker woke up in shock and saw Reaper holding a rat, which he tightly clenched in his right hand. She then saw a dark haze leave the rat and enter through Reaper's mask, which the man seemed to breathe in deeply as if it was some kind of air freshener.

Reaper set down the carcass and took off his gauntlet, revealing that his hand appeared very normal, gaining some color and life. "It won't last long..." the man grumbled and sighed, then turned rapidly and faced a disgusted Widowmaer, "Why are you awake?"

"You slammed the wall." Widowmaker growled and sat up, "What the hell are you doin-"

"None of your damn business..." Reaper responded coldly and kicked the rat away, then drove his arm into the wall again, this time pulling out a handful of cockroaches, to which he did the same.

Widowmaker rolled over to grab her pistol, but was topped when the man pulled out a sawed off shotgun from his inner clothing.

"I wouldn't." Reaper shook his head and threw all the exoskeletons on the ground, "Just go to sleep, Widow." he growled and nudged his shotgun to her bed. The man himself also sat down on his bed, then took off his glove again and saw that his hand was starting to become dry and scabby once more.

Widowmaker muttered to herself and saw Reaper finally rest, then pulled out a small button device and pushed it.

The poison mine under the pillow launched a small needle and injected its deadly dosage into Reaper's skull, or that was what the woman believed.

Reaper growled and sat up, then removed the small booby trap harmlessly, "I'm quite tired of these games." he removed his hood, showing her that it was extra thick.

"Kevlar..." Widowmaker muttered and saw the man stand up, "Ha!" she gasped and shot the man when he pounced on her, "Gah!" she growled.

Reaper took the pistol rounds into his stomach, but chuckled when the crumpled bullets fell back into the bed, "You're really trying, aren't ya?" he seized her arms and pinned her down.

Widowmaker groaned as she felt Reaper's dry hands burn her arms, "Fils de pute." she saw that her arms were becoming pale, "Stop. Ahh!" she groaned.

Reaper grunted and removed his hands, then made a slicing motion across his neck, "I could have killed you right then and there." he stood up and turned away, then put up his gauntlets.

"Who... who are you?" Widowmaker muttered and looked at Reaper.

"Just call me... Death." Reaper murmured as he remembered his ghastly appearance.

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