Chapter 13

Completion

A couple of months had passed since Claude had performed the Wolves-Bane Ritual, and life had certainly improved for young Ashling. On the first full moon after the bit of demonic magic had been performed, the group had eagerly taken the former werewolf out into a meadow in the forest (just in case). As the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, Ashling huddled anxiously in the shadow of a large tree. With a great deal of encouragement (and a final shove from Grell), Ashling stumbled out into the soft glow of the moon's light.

The Shinigami held their breath as they watched her. After a few minutes, that breath was released as nothing happened. Ashling turned back to grin happily at the others, tears of sheer joy brimming in her acidic green eyes. She gave a yelp of joy as Ronald rushed forward and pulled her into the best kiss if her life, and the other Shinigami cheered in equal elation at the ritual's success.

Now, Ashling was leaping across rooftops in the darkness of a moonless night, searching for her last soul of the night. The target was an elderly woman, bedridden with a terrible illness. She was set to die in a few minutes in a hospital bed of congestive heart failure. Ashling sighed as the tall white hospital building came into view, and quickly made her way inside.

The waiting room was full of people, some of whom Ashling had appointments with in just a few days. None of them stirred or glanced her way: it was for reapings like this that Shinigami had to make themselves invisible. She walked briskly to the elevator and rode it slowly up to the desired floor, mulling the reaping over in her head. The patient had been in a chemically induced coma for a couple of days, so this reaping would be a silent one. She needn't speak a word.

The door to the room slid open easily, and Ashling inhaled sharply. The woman was in her bed, breathing shallow and ragged, mouth slightly open and body shrunken. An elderly man and a young woman, both with tears in their eyes, stood on either side of the bed. The Shinigami felt a sharp pain in her heart: relatives of the dying woman. She could only imagine the pain this would cause them.

With a final sigh, Ashling strode forward and popped the blades out of her key-tar death scythe. She lifted it over her head and, hesitating for only a brief moment, brought it down on the woman's chest. The woman gave a final whimper of agony, then glowing reels of film spilled from the invisible wound. The other people in the room gasped and cried out, unaware of the cinematic record but well aware of their loved one's passing.

As the last trails of light filtered into the woman's file, Ashling stood over the empty body and watched the two other humans weep. There were rarely other people around when she collected a soul, so seeing such raw pain exposed was uncommon. She turned away sharply: it hurt.

Without a sound, Ashling fled the hospital and returned to the shadows outside. It was time to return to the Dispatch and turn in the day's files. She had a date with Ronald tonight, and didn't want to be late. She shook the pain from her mind and began the journey back to her office. It had been a long day, but relaxation and the desperate hatred of overtime drove her forward.

Meanwhile, somewhere deep and dark and secluded, a demon set up the final circle needed for the ritual he had been waiting so long to perform. He double, triple, and quadruple checked everything to make sure it was absolutely perfect. There could not be a single flaw or mistake: it could ruin everything he had worked so hard for. He turned his gleaming gold eyes toward his anxious master and nodded silently, the air full of tension.

"Alright. Now I need the book, and for you to stand in the very center of all of the circles, my lady." Claude said gently.

Silver nodded and handed the demon her Cinematic Record, striding carefully into the center circle and making sure she was positioned just right. Claude stared at her for a few moments, then sighed.

"I need you to stand completely still, my love. Do not move until I tell you that you can. Okay?" he asked for perhaps the hundredth time.

"Yes, Claude, I can handle it. Let's do this, you're making me nervous." the woman replied with a small, nervous smile.

Claude nodded and strode forward, flipping the book open. Strips of almost ghostly film spilled out, and Claude began chanting lowly in a language Silver couldn't even begin to understand.

"Is é seo an teaghrán go hiomlán randamach de na focail go súil agam go mbeidh cuma really cool sa teanga a roghnaigh mé." he muttered, his eyes turning a strange shade of purple as he spoke.

The strips of film writhed, then began to wind themselves around Silver's body, never once touching her. The circles around her glowed in various vibrant colors, and the film turned a deep red as it spun faster and faster around. Silver stood as still as possible, her blue eyes wide as she watched everything happeneing around her. Claude kept his concentration on the ritual, and muttered one final string of words.

"Focail de chumhacht, heed mo uacht."

There was a loud rumbling, then everything stopped. The glowing colors vanished, as did the film reels. Even the circles that had been drawn around Silver had disappeared. Claude's eyes slowly returned to their normal gold, and he set the Cinematic Record down on a table before carefully striding toward his master. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and he slowly lifted a hand to her face to life it toward him.

"Open your eyes." he said slowly, his voice calm.

Eyelids lifted languidly, revealing once blue eyes turned a deep red. Claude grinned victoriously before embracing her.

"Finally. Welcome, Silver, to the life of a demon."

Yay! Everyone wins! I'm so glad to have finally finished this! One less thing on my plate! I really hope you guys liked it, and I hope it didn't end too abruptly!

~Silver