Notes from the Author:

Just a quick note to say... thanks if you're reading this. Hopefully you're enjoying it. I'm honestly mostly writing this for myself to flush out details about reapers. Heru's been a character I've been working on for the past ten years, slowly flushing out his personality and how he became a reaper. But everything I've written with him takes place while he's alive or just after he becomes a full reaper, I've never written him this far in his timeline.

Just some factoids for any curious individuals:

Heru was born in 1990, grew on Skid Row LA until he was adopted at age 14. He died his last death at age 22 (thus freezing his aging) and left his mortal life in 2034 at age 44.

Chapter Six

June 27, 1998

267 5th Ave, New York City
10:49 AM

Heru

Heru sat sideways in the comfortable leather tub chair situated in the corner of Bradley's office, his legs over the arm as he leaned against the other arm, his right hand dangling to the floor as he lazily watched the man at his desk. He'd been with him since Wade had left, having gone straight to his apartment. He'd wrapped his presence around Bradley like static, the hairs on the back of his neck in a constant state of alert, and had been whispering little threats in his ear whenever he got bored. Already, Bradley was on edge, constantly fumbling things and snapping at his secretary.

'Which, isn't a great feeling, the girl doesn't deserve that'

{We'll send her flowers later}

The paranoia was beginning to get to the man though and that was exactly what Heru wanted. He continued to toy with him, randomly moving his coffee cup to the other side of his desk but the most fun was getting him to write shit. Heru lifted a hand and turned his wrist as Bradley was signing his name to a bunch of legal documents. He grinned when he saw the color drain from his face and he looked around with wild eyes, a bead of sweat forming along his temple and trailing down.

He had just signed the name Judy Smith. He hastily put the document through his shredder {that thing gets a lot of work} and called for another copy. He took a sip of water and moved onto the next, giving his head a little shake to clear it.

Regina Gonzalaz . Heru chuckled at the absolute look of horror on the man's face as he angrily threw the next document into the shredder. He was beginning to pant in his anxiety. He looked up at the glass door to his office, ensuring his security guard was still standing outside of it.

He looks nice and prepped

'Nurse, scalpel'

Heru swung his legs down and got to his feet and began wandering around the office. It was massive but of course it was, Bradley hadn't spent much time climbing the corporate ladder, he'd raced to the top in only a couple years. The brightest star among all the other employees. His office was filled with the highest quality furniture, the latest tech and a bar that would have made the Rat Pack drool. Everything was luxurious and the very best . His appreciation for plants had filled this office as well and the lush greens and bright colors of flowers brought a warmth to the room that reminded Heru of a Venus Flytrap. Bradley was nothing but a pretty predator who lured his victims with a false sense of safety. A large ficus stood by the desk, ferns hung in the windows and there was another table of orchids by the bar. Heru ran his fingers across the back of Bradley's neck, making the man jump and hit his knees painfully on his desk. He looked around him, glaring into the empty space as Heru walked around him, waiting for the man's eyes to fall on him unknowingly. As his grey eyes landed on him, Heru touched the base of the ficus, watching his face as he watched the plant begin to wither. He drained the life from the roots up, the plant slowly crumbling and shriveling into a slimy rot.

Bradley pushed away from his desk with a sharp intake of breath. Heru grinned and moved to the next plant, drawing the life energy from that one before moving to the next until he had drained all the plants of their life. Bradley scrambled out of his chair and ran to the door.

"Banes!" He shouted, grabbing at his security's jacket, his face sweaty and his lips trembling. Heru grinned and opened his mouth, letting out a small sigh where the plant's life energy slipped out and raced back to where it belonged. When Bradley and the officer turned around and came back into the office, the plants were alive and thriving, their verdant leaves full of life.

"I don't understand," Bradley gaped, stepping forward and looking at the plants.

"Sir?" Banes was looking at him questioningly, his stern face pulled into lines of concern for his boss who was clearly rattled.

"They were all dead," he said, touching the ficus in disbelief.

"What were sir?" he kept his hands clasped behind his back.

"The plants… I saw them all…" he trailed off, his face setting into a cold anger, "never mind," he snapped, "that will be all Banes."

"Thank you sir," he acknowledged and left, returning to his post. Heru sighed happily and dropped back into the chair.

"Well Bradley," he rumbled happily, "shall I introduce you to some friends or shall we wait until tonight?"

{Let's wait until tonight}

'Noo, let's see if we can get him to run screaming from his office!'

Yes that! But naked!

"Ah, we'll wait until tonight, there's no need to rush it, we still have a few weeks together my love," Heru purred, drawing a finger across Bradley's cheek from afar and grinning happily when he rubbed at the spot.

June 27, 1998

Somewhere in a not very friendly neighbourhood, New York City
6:50 PM

Wade

Deadpool strode through the dimly lit alley as he made his way to Margaret's, anxiety about Abegail making him jittery.

{That's not the only reason you're jittery}

[He saved his number under Sweetcheeks]

I don't want to think about him right now.

{I disagree, I think we should list all the reasons why he would hate you and is never, ever going to call. I'll start, 1. Hes met you}

[Ooh I've got this one! 2, he knows what you look like and jumps away from you like you're contagious because he thinks you're a vile, disgusting piece of shit]

Leave me alone. He adjusted his mask, it was irritating his face, the humidity sure as fuck wasn't helping either. The moisture was burning his skin and he wanted nothing more than to rip the stupid thing off.

{Come now, we don't want to give the rats nightmares}

[That's animal cruelty]

It wasn't like he'd remove it, he knew better than to do that anywhere in public if he could avoid it. He just hated the way the hot weather would make everything so much worse for his skin, his body was already at war with itself, he didn't need the weather helping it to rip apart his flesh. It really didn't help that he only got a couple hours of sleep which had only served to amplify his shitty mood.

{Somebody's a grumpy puss}

Back off. The boxes had kept him up most of the day after he left Heru's. Between the reminders of why a scab like him couldn't be happy and thinking about what Bradely was responsible for, it had been a pretty restless, nightmare filled two hours of sleep. When he had given Heru his number, he'd seen a couple of the pages on the table. There had been a picture of what Wade had initially thought was a slaughter house but after Yellow and White had painstakingly described every detail of the picture, he knew it hadn't been. He'd seen some pretty messed up stuff, had been the messed up stuff on more than a few occasions and was, more often than not, the one doing the messed up stuff but that? Nope, that was the kind of shit that people like those behind Weapon X got involved in, the kind of assholes that he'd made it his business to snuff out. He had also seen the initials A.B. on a few other sticky-notes and memos. Wade didn't think Saint Bradley was being singled out because he was a good flosser.

He pushed open the door to Margaret's and stepped inside. It was busier than the other night, a number of ruckus groups were being exceptionally loud and obnoxious in the corner and for a moment, Wade considered forgetting everything and having a jolly good night getting shit faced and seeing who would win the pool.

"Wade," Weasel called, having spotted the merc the minute he'd walked in and was waving him over, "Cryp," he nudged a sandy haired fellow who was as much a part of the bar as the light fixtures, "watch the bar for me," he told him and the blurry-eyed man nodded and crawled off his chair to slink behind the bar. He leaned on his elbows and dropped his head in his hands, "come on Wade," Weasel guided him into the back to where his office was stuffed into a storage closet. It was definitely serious business when he was brought to the back.

"Did you find anything else out?" he asked. He'd done some more of his own digging that afternoon and had called a few contacts and was waiting for a detailed report that would outline every movement Bradley had made in the last two years. He wanted to know where he ate, where he traveled to, what kind of socks he wore, who he voted for and every financial transaction he'd ever made. He needed to know everything.

"A little bit but I didn't want to dig too much. While you might be the first merc he's hired directly, there are a lot of webs that connect back to him from a lot of pretty sketchy jobs. Now I couldn't ask too many questions," he sat down at his desk and pulled out a thin manila folder, "but here's everything I could get on that potential witness. Her name is Abigail Weston but she's had a shit load of aliases. Currently, she's a third grade teacher in Milton Ontario going by the name Peggy Holland," he pulled out a picture of a pretty brunette with striking blue eyes, "She was born in Milwaukee and went missing when she was fourteen. Police suspected she ran away after things got ugly with her step father during a fight, that's the last anyone heard of Abigail Weston, officially anyway. There was a rumor about her showing up in a hotel here in New York a couple years later, she looked strung out and was hanging off the arm of some high roller. No one really looked much into it, figured she was turning tricks for a drug habit she had before she ran or one picked up on the street afterwards. She'd crossed state lines and out of the jurisdiction of the locals and she wasn't really on the top priority list. So when a woman who looked exactly like her showed up five years later in a magazine as the date of a Spanish diplomat, it was easy to say it wasn't her," Weasel shook his head, "poor girl. Anyway, you remember that huge political shit show a few years back in '86?" Wade tried to think back but his memory had been Swiss cheese since Weapon X. Not much stuck.

"Was there some kind of murder investigation?" he asked, vaguely remembering there being some weird sex scandal that had involved a murder.

"More like a mass murder," Weasel pulled several other photos from the folder and laid them out on the desk, one in particular looked disturbingly familiar, "six women were found in the penthouse suite where a well known Spanish diplomat had reportedly been seen visiting. They were all butchered, one of them was even skinned, a suspected mutant. They never solved it, which just goes to show there's got to be someone pretty powerful pulling some strings if you ask me. But this is where it gets good, there was a woman caught on camera fleeing the scene, completely covered in blood that looked suspiciously like our Abigail Weston. I suspect she left the country and that's when Bradley lost track of her. I'm not sure what the connection to him is, but he's the one who put the bounty on her. My border guy was able to help me out, I got her address here," he handed Wade a sticky note with the address written on it.

"Thanks," he took the pictures and folder from him, flipping through it, his eyes lingering on the hotel room photo, the same photo that had been in Heru's kitchen.
{You know if Weasel was able to find her, that probably means Bradley's going to if he hasn't already}

[You probably led him straight to her]

{She's going to be in danger now because of you}

No she'll be alright, Weasel's good at what he does, he wouldn't let that information leak.

{Don't be an idiot}

[He almost did yesterday on the phone]

"Shut up," he hissed at the boxes.

"Don't thank me yet," he growled and glared at him, he was used to Wade yelling at things that weren't there.

"What?"

"I'm out," he held up his hands in surrender, shaking his head, "I can't go digging in this guy's business Wade, it's bad for my business," he warned and Wade let out a slow breath, nodding. He understood completely. If Bradley had a finger in every crime pie, then it meant he had dealings with weapons and that was Weasel's business. If word got out that he was looking into a Sponsor, which is what he thought Bradley might be, then his contacts would dry up faster than his chapped lips under a blow torch.

"Fair enough," he said as he stood up, "thanks for looking this far into it, I'm sorry if it gives you any grief, Weas," he said and meant it. Weasel might be a low-life arms dealer but he was still a friend, or at least as close to a friend as Wade could ever get. He might betray Wade for the right amount but that didn't mean Wade wanted to see him get hurt.

"It better not," he warned and Wade winced. He decided to leave, figuring Weasel might be a little too tempted to spit into any drink he served him and headed for Bradley's. He would keep up the pretense of protecting him simply for the easy access to his home and to avoid tipping him off that it was him who was investigating him.

June 27, 1998
East 23rd St, New York City

8:02 PM

Heru

His feet dangled in the air as he sat on the ledge, a joint held between two fingers as he watched the apartment. Bradley was in his office dealing with a phone call,

'We all know what that call is about'

Mmm , Heru frowned and glanced at the living room where Deadpool was leaning against the window, staring out at the skyline.

I guess he's not backing off

"He never said he was, he just promised to stop trying to kill us," Heru corrected, he knew Deadpool wasn't going to leave it alone, he couldn't. Heru had turned him onto a psychopath and Wade wasn't the kind of man to let that go.

{The method is still in flux} Future pointed out, Bradley's cause of death was the one of the very few unfixed points surrounding him now. Heru took the last drag and flicked the butt into the air, turning his focus back to his prey. He had finished the phone call and was going through a file. He knew he was crossing names out and Heru's breath shook as he sighed. He only had a few minutes before he needed to leave but it was enough time. He waited as Bradley locked the file in his desk drawer I guess he got that fixed and went out into the living room. Wade turned away from the window and the two started to talk. He didn't know what about, he didn't care.

Heru let Future fill his mind, its voice and knowledge nearly pulling him out of the present but he reached out, his mind touching Bradley's.

It licked and lapped at the skin, the flames searing flesh and bone and Bradley screamed, his hands pawing at his body in a wild panic. Heru gritted his teeth, his anger as hot as the blue and red flames that would consume them. He watched as the man fell to the floor, rolling and screaming madly as imaginary fire consumed him. Wade was completely at a loss, standing next to him helplessly before turning back to the window and looking up at the building Heru sat on.

He couldn't resist the temptation and waved merrily before pulling out of Bradley's mind and vanishing. He had work to do.

June 27, 1998
Apartment 405
Madison Square Park Tower, New York City

9:00 PM

Wade

He had heard that kind of scream from people who were experiencing the most excruciating pain imaginable, he'd made those kinds of screams himself far too often, had made people scream like that several times but it still made his skin crawl. It was incredibly unsettling watching Bradley writhe on the floor, screaming at an imagined pain but there was nothing he could do.

{Would you have done anything if there was?}

Probably not , it wasn't like he got off on Bradley being in pain but he cared about him as much as he cared about who would win The Challenge, that is to say, not at all. He'd seen Heru up on the roof, watching and doing whatever it was that he did that made Bradley suffer. He'd waved. Now Bradley was in the shower and Wade suspected he was attempting to calm himself down, and probably to wash off the piss. Whatever had been happening had abruptly ended when Heru had vanished and Bradley had sat up, shaky and weak but insisting nothing had just happened and that he was fine. He had stormed off to the shower, leaving Wade the perfect opportunity to snoop.

Humming along to One More Time by Britney Spears, he went through the desk drawers, looking for anything of importance.

{Bingo} Yellow said as he grabbed the handle to the locked drawer. Glancing at the door, he hesitated, the sound of water still running encouraging him forward. He pulled out his lock picking set and in a few seconds, the drawer popped open.

You guys keep a lookout , he whispered to the boxes and pulled out the top file. It was filled with documents pertaining to a shipment of clothing donation for a local charity that worked with runaways.

[Interesting]

{That's odd, he's ordered it to be sent back}

[Correction, he's ordered it to be destroyed]

Wade frowned, a red stamp saying cancelled across the papers. He flipped through the sheets of paper and stopped at a long list of names. The file underneath was filled with forged identities, a couple hundred in total. Well that's suspicious , Wade thought before taking out his cell phone and snapping pictures of every document he could find. He quickly tucked them back in the drawer and locked it. Heading back into the living room, he flopped down on the couch, the sound of the shower stopping as he grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. It was set to a news station, a red strip with text scrolled across the top: Breaking News: An explosion at the docks has killed 8, injured 15.

"Reports of injuries are still coming in," the news anchor was saying, "and the cause of the explosion is still unknown as firefighters are working hard to put out the flames before it spreads," they cut to the scene where four firetrucks had gathered, streams of water evaporating as it hit the dancing flames. The helicopter circled the scene, carefully avoiding the billowing clouds of smoke. Wade frowned and squinted at the screen.

[That's the pier that shipment came into]

"Mr. Wilson," Bradley's voice startled the merc and he looked over to see the billionaire standing in the doorway, his fluffy grey housecoat tied tightly around his thick waist. Wade turned the TV off, "I would like to discuss something with you," he said as he went to the bar and made himself a drink.

"Sure boss! You can tell me anything, you know. Do you have a crush on a boy?" he quipped, leaning forward and cupping his cheeks in his hands, his elbows planted on his crossed legs. Bradley glared at him but ignored him.

"I would like an update on your progress in regards to identifying this stalker," he said, sitting down in the lazy-boy, "you promised me proof you'd take care of it yesterday and yet," he spread an arm out, gesturing to the empty room, "I have yet to see any signs of it."

{Shit sticks}

"It's a funny story," he said, thinking quickly, "I still haven't found any proof that there is a stalker," Bradley nodded, he seemed to have expected his lack of success {rude}, "no one's been following you, there's no sign of you being bugged, no security has actually been breached and well, besides your uh… episodes and the weird lipstick thing, there hasn't been any indication that anyone is following you."

"I don't blame you for your failure," he said kindly, "I suspect we're dealing with a mutant who has some… telepathic and invisibility abilities, possibly telekinesis too," he explained.

[Gotta give him props for not being a total moron]

{No one gets this high up in the crime world being an idiot, he's hella smart}

[And yet, so very off]

"A mutant?" Wade whistled, feigning ignorance and nodding, "yea that would make sense. I was starting to think this was a little too X-Files-y."

"I want him dead," he stated boldly, his gaze locked on Wade over the rim of his glass as he sipped the amber liquid, "I don't have time for this nonsense and I've just about had enough of these games. I will not let this project be jeopardized. If you want your money, you're going to bring me this mutant's head on a platter, is that understood?"

{No one tell him we already cashed the cheque!}

Souls Collected:
283
Ages 11 months-73 years old
Died June 27, 1990 8:05 PM
Asphyxiation, fire