Gun Shot

Ever since the gun was invented and easy to come by, death by one was common in rough places like London's East End. For Alan however, this was his first soul collection from someone who was wounded by a bullet. Eric told him that the death can vary from there, depending on where they were shot and how long the bullet stays in the body. It was just another death, there was nothing too special about it. But first time things were special to Alan for one reason or another. New deaths were new experiences and new things to learn. For Alan, learning, experiencing, and knowledge were some of his favorite parts of life. The brunette didn't care if Eric said it was just another death, it was a new one to him. Patiently, he waited around the corner of a dirty alleyway. According to his log, a man was suppose to run right by here from some thugs before being shot several times in the back. Alan cringed slightly, any wound in the back was extremely painful with the main nerves being located there. Even a harmless slap on the back from Eric got him sore for an hour. He couldn't imagine the pain this man was going to go through in a few minutes to come.

It wasn't much longer until the pounding footsteps of several men along with shouts of foul language and demands were heard in Alan's ears. Keeping himself as hidden as possible, he peered around the corner of the wall to see exactly what his ears were hearing. It won't be long now, the men were already pulling out their guns. The reaper held his scythe tight with gloved hands, waiting until the time of death came.

"Running away ain't gonna save yer sorry arse! Either pay up or yer gonna get shot 'ere and now!" one of the men shouted, firing the first bullet. The shot hit right on target due to the short distance between the group and the lone man who stumbled and fell right at Alan's feet. Pain surging through his body, the only thing the unfortunate man could do was lay down with his face in the dirt. Alan took a step back as the other men approached to surround the wounded man. More shots were fired, more shouts echoed across the walls, and Alan's stomach grew tighter and tighter as he watched the man's back be torn apart and blood splatter. The reaper has seen some violent deaths beforehand, but something about this one made him want to throw up. His back cringed as if he could feel the pain this man was going through. The brunette fidgeted in his spot as the shots continued to ring in his ears as well as the gurgling of blood from the victim's mouth. The groaning, the moaning, the agonizing cries- Alan couldn't stand to hear them. The sounds themselves were enough to make his stomach churn, watching the scene was worse. However he couldn't tear his eyes away from the gruesome scene.

He couldn't run away, this was his job. His work. A demon could come in at anytime to snatch away this soul and he had to be there to protect and collect it. He had to remain vigilant, his eyes on the dying man and his nearby surroundings. He had no chose but to watch, he couldn't close his eyes or look away. He swallowed the bile that he felt built up in the back of his throat and tried to calm his trembling. The nerves in his back didn't stop twitching. No matter how hard he tried to remain still, he could only imagine the pain of this man and felt it himself. He didn't want to feel that way- not in any way, but it was unavoidable. Every shot set another chills and stiff fidgeting through his spine. He wanted this to end. He wanted Eric here to shield him so that the job was done right and Alan didn't have to watch this any longer.

After what felt like a thousand hours, the gunshots turned into retreating footsteps and friendly chattering among the men who just committed murder. That pleasant chatter turned Alan's blood from shivering and frightened to angry and boiling. Such disrespect for another person alone could make the young reaper angry, but to laugh at a body? A death? Did this men never hear of respecting the living yet alone the dead? Alan let himself calm down through deep breaths as he waited for the sound of the men to fade to nothing. He despised this type of collection, any murder really. This man had a family, a wife and two darling children. Most likely they had no idea the kind of dealings he had to keep them supported. Now, they wouldn't know for some time that he was dead.

Letting out a final, long breath to ease his nerves, Alan stepped out of the shadows and approached the body, skillfully swinging his scythe overhead and hitting the man in the center of his destroyed back. Instantly, Cinematic Records spilled from his soul and surrounded the reaper. A normal collection from this point on. "Alexander Knite, died on the fifteenth of March 1884 at three fourteen in the morning by loss of blood, internal damage, and loss of connection from the brain and the rest of the body. No further remarks," Alan stated in a monotone voice, having had done this procedure several times before. As the records continued to play before him, chills ran through his body and made his heart ache. This man did not live all too happy of a life. Poverty throughout childhood and continued into his years as an adult. He did everything to make his family happy even if it would cause him much trouble and grieving. The young reaper couldn't held but let his eyes water and a tear or two slide down his cheeks. What in the name of the Gods would have made his death alright? This man did nothing wrong; everything he did was out of love for his family. To suffer so much for the happiness of others was unbearable for Alan to think of.

He couldn't leave this man with such painful thoughts and memories, at death only the good moments in life should be remembered. Why so much pain? Before debating any further on the subject, Alan took a small knife from inside his coat pocket and began to cut up the records to how he wanted them. Painful memories scatted lifelessly to the dirty floor of the alley as joyful, treasured moments played before the man's closed eyes. That's how it should be for any death. Before long, the collection was completed. Everything Alan did not remove went into his death scythe, the soul happy and safe. Giving a sigh, he placed the knife into his pocket once more and laid his scythe next to him. Alan knew he just broke a serious rule for reapers in a moment of having intense feelings. He didn't care for the most part, this man died with happy memories and forgot his pain. What was wrong in that? What harm did it cause? The brunette rubbed his eyes, drying them with the cuffs of his sleeves so he could return back to Dispatch as normally as he left. He wanted to go home, lay in bed, and sleep off this night.

As his thoughts swam around in his head, Alan did not notice the discarded pieces of the man's record beginning to stir. They sewed themselves together, making themselves one record once more, containing all the bitter memories of Mr. Knite's life. The worst memories were the hardest to deal with, emotional and physically. They were stubborn and hard to get rid off, they stuck easiest to the soul and dominated it when emotions were lowest. At the moment, they craved a soul to latch onto. The only one nearby was the reaper's.

As Alan finished collecting himself, he picked up his scythe and prepared to stand up. In the middle of the simple process, the young reaper felt a burning sensation in the middle of his chest making him collapse to the ground and drop his scythe. Everything he just did for nothing. The tears he just wiped away returned within moments as the pain grew and spread through his body. Memories that were not his own passed through his eyes and entered his soul. He couldn't think strait, he couldn't react or fight this force. It was all too much at one moment in time. As quickly as the pain come, it left. Alan sat in the middle of the alley next to the body, his breath coming out in short pants, and sweat and tears running down his pale cheeks.

How long he stayed like that he didn't know. It only felt like a few minutes. The pain itself has faded but there was a feeling deep within him that made him stay still. He was afraid of something, just what he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he snapped out of it when feeling a large, broad hand upon his shoulder.

"Alan? What are ye doin' sittin' on th' floor? Are ye okay?" a warm, familiar voice sounded throughout the brunette's ears. Eric.

"Huh? Yes... I'm alright. I just, blanked out for a while. I'm not used to this kind of reaping, I took it too hard. Don't worry about it Eric," Alan somehow managed to say. His mind was still fuzzy even as the older reaper pulled him up to his feet. "The soul is collected and there was nothing wrong with the collection. No need to fuss."

"I ain't fussin'. You're the one who keeps on babbblin' away," Eric laughed, giving a friendly pat to Alan's back followed by a kiss to the cheek. "Ye had me worried not comin' home or the office. Yer shift ended an 'our ago ye know?"

"An hour?!" Alan asked shocked. That's how long he sat on the ground, mouth gaped open like a fool? "I didn't know the time! I need to get back to the office and return my scythe and fill out the paperwork-"

A sudden kiss to the lips silenced his rambling. Alan relaxed right away and grew quiet as Eric kissed him. He always did that to shut him up and Gods did it work every time. It was too easy to fall for the man's lips and love. "Relax Alan. Let's just take ye home for the sleep an' you can deal with the nasty paperwork in the mornin'. The souls ye got ain't gonna go anywhere. You just need to sleep, obviously this reap stressed ye out somethin' awful."

Alan nodded, his head still in a daze from both the pain earlier, the unknown feeling in his chest, and now Eric's kiss and closeness. Sighing heavily, he leaned against Eric's broad chest and closed his eyes. If only it was nighttime he could say he was happy the day was finally coming to a close, but it was morning and that meant he still had a whole day ahead of him- and he was not ready for that. When Eric tried to pull away so that they can head home, Alan quickly wrapped his arms around the man's torso. "Not yet... I... want to stay like this for a while... my head is still fuzzy and I don't want to move..."

Eric gave a quiet chuckle and kissed the chocolate locks on the reaper's head. "That's fine with me... just tell me when yer ready to 'ead 'ome. I'll get ye there safe an' sound love."

The younger reaper gave a light hum in response, resting his head on the other's shoulder with a content look on his face. Eric always seemed to know what to do, even if he wasn't exactly sure what was happening or what to do. He was just that type of person and Alan loved it. It wasn't long before the thoughts and painful memories from earlier were gone and Alan was completely relaxed in the man's arms. But he didn't say anything to Eric, he didn't mind staying like this for a minute longer.