First Cut

I don't have much to say right now. I feel like I need to say something here but I'm drawing a blank. Sorry!

Chapter 10

William was trying his best to keep the effects of only a couple hours of sleep from showing. Thankfully Annabelle was quiet as she walked along beside him. She hadn't even complained of the overtime the night before.

She had stopped, so he stopped as well. A long line of carriages were making their way down the street. "What do you think it is?" Annabelle asked him.

William shrugged. "Humans can make an event of anything." If anything, he assumed it was a funeral. The sound of horses' hooves against the cobblestones sounded a lot louder than normal. It was giving him a headache.

Light grabbing her arm, he turned her towards an alley. She looked slightly confused but did not question him as they hurried along and scaled a high fence at the end of the alley. They landed in a garden of soft purple and yellow blossoms and dashed out of the yard as quick as possible. The last thing they wanted was someone coming out and shouting at them for trespassing or flower stomping.

"A shortcut?" Annabelle asked conversationally.

"You might say that."

"Do you want to help or..." Annabelle began as they stepped through the gates leading up to a large manor house.

"Do I need to?" he asked her.

"I guess not." Annabelle sighed faintly as they walked along the side of the house. The sounds of several children playing around reached her ears. William was certainly into the role of watching, not doing, she realized. She knew he was no slacker, so it was his way of teaching her. She wasn't too happy about being taught that way but she had to admit to herself that she knew no other method for teaching.

Five children of various ages were playing a game of their own design in the spacious backyard. Three of them boys, two of them little girls who had gotten their dresses dirty. 'Their mothers won't be happy,' Annabelle thought.

One of the boys had found a frog or perhaps some form of insect. He held it out in his hands to show the girls, who squealed as little girls do in the face of something gross and ran away. With a laugh he chased after them, slipping and stumbling but continuing to laugh at them.

Annabelle shook her head and readied her scythe. His chasing the girls lead them to a part of the yard covered with stones. He slipped again and lost his footing. A fat brown toad flew out of his hands and landed on the curly blonde hair of the smaller girl. She shrieked and raced for the house.

Annabelle thought it best to hurry towards the boy. The other three children crowded around him, calling to him to get up. If his parents came outside then her job would become even more difficult.

The oldest boy turned at the sounds of her approach. Then he looked beyond her to William. "Hey!" he began, accusation in his green gaze, "you're not supposed to be here! Who are you?"

"Move, please," Annabelle told him, gently nudging him aside. With a swift motion, she sliced the fallen boy open, revealing his cinematic record. As he was just a child, it was not long. But the sounds of the other children protesting found her ears, along with the crying of the girl who was still outside.

The expression of the older boy became one of fear. He wanted to turn and run to the house but was rooted on the spot. Annabelle ignored the children then, pulling out the list of souls and marked Mark Hutchinson, age nine Complete.

Continuing to ignore the children she turned and returned to William. He nodded and they retraced their steps back along the side of the house and out the gate.

"That wasn't too hard was it?" William asked.

Annabelle shook her head. "But they were just children. I'd still prefer to have the person I'm reaping be the only person around."

"It is not always going to be that way." William pointed out. "You did well," he added quickly.

"Thank you."

Annabelle was studying her list as she walked. "Do you want to just wait at the next location? We have some time."

"What would we do?" William asked.

Annabelle shrugged. "I have no idea," she answered honestly, "I just wanted your opinion."

"Let's wait."

Their waiting spot was a narrow passage between an inn and photography studio. The studio and it's customers were of no importance to them. It was a conflict in the inn that would spill outside that they waited on.

William and Annabelle waited in nearly identical positions, arms crossed over their chests with their backs to the wall. Annabelle leaned her head against William's shoulder. He did not complain so she stayed there until the shouting begun.

Jacob Riley was arguing with another man, one whose name was not listed on the death list. It did not matter anyway. He would kill Jacob with a single gunshot in the alley. Jacob was telling the other man that he did not cheat him out of his money, that he had paid the waitress for his room before.

"Quite the temper, hmm?" Annabelle asked William, referring to the owner of the inn. He nodded as the side door burst open and the two men came outside. Jacob was set, knowing he was right and the owner wrong. That devotion to his own faith in himself did not prevent him from getting shot by the foul-tempered innkeeper.

As Jacob lay bleeding sticky blood across the ground, Annabelle cut him with her scythe. William stood watching the alley, making sure that no one would become curious. Surely passers-by on the street heard the gunshot. Sure enough a small crowd had begun to form. He watched them all, wondering why no one had approached.

In the crowd, something caught his attention. Narrowing his eyes to yellow slits, he studied the faces again. The glimpse of white he thought he saw was gone but it worried him nonetheless.

"William?" Annabelle's voice brought him back to attention. She was putting away her copy of the death list and looking at him. "Anything wrong?"

"I thought I saw something. It's nothing," he added. "You should return to the office, wait for me there."

"Where are you going?" Annabelle hissed as he stepped towards the crowd.

"I have something to take care of."

Even after he had left, ignoring the questions the crowd of people had asked him, Annabelle stood rooted to the spot, trying to stare after him. What kind of business could he possibly have? She was torn between returning to his office to wait for him and following him. As Scotland Yard arrived, she slipped down the alley, hurried through the backdoor of the photography studio and started on her way back to William's office, hoping that whatever had distracted him, he would tell her about after he returned.