'Week… Nine? Aye, three moons.' Jason thought to himself, 'three moons in this hell, with that brown eyed bitch treating me like dirt.' A flash of murderous anger caused his heart to demand action, the beats filling his ears like a war drum. He had no weapons, beside farm tools, but neither he nor the villagers had any doubt he could kill the entire village with his bare hands. Especially that whore pretending to be a convent girl. He pushed the doors of the barn open, to find the whore in question waiting for him. "You have work to do." She thrust a scythe at him, which he grabbed roughly, intentionally throwing her off balance. She remained as impassive as possible, and Jason followed up a barbed taunt, "And will you be working while I'm out? Or is the brothel closed today, whore?" He prowled past her, smiling darkly as she angrily launched into yet another argument with him. "Don't you dare call me a trollop, you lying bastard" she spat in fury, that black hate rising as he turned arrogantly to face her, scythe held low ready to flick upwards and taste blood. "I said I wouldn't hurt you, but I'm seriously reconsidering." She didn't flinch, but instead snarled back at him, "Again, you break your word. All you do is hurt me, Jason Drake, and I want nothing to do with a man like you." She crossed her arms and waited for his cruel retort, but Jason just laughed and turned to leave. "I'll be back by sunset. Try not to be on your back as usual when I return."
"Why are you always so nasty to her?" Jason was harvesting the robust wheat that somehow grew all year round here, while a girl from the village sat in the shadow of a tree. Sophita, a girl who held taken a friendly shine to Jason, bit into an apple as she quizzed Jason. He stopped working, hefting the scythe onto his shoulder and sat down next to her. "Because she pisses me off whenever she talks to me, that's why. What other reason do I need?" Sophita sighed wearily and shook her head. "I know she's with Darius but I think she loves you, deep down. She glances in your direction a lot. And for all your foul temper and horrid words, I think you're in love with her too." Jason snorted in derision and stood up, hefting his scythe off his shoulder. "Sorry to let you down, pet, but I hate the dirty harlot, pretending she's got airs and graces when she's nothing but filth." His scythe embedded itself in the frozen ground as he swung viciously at the wheat. He snarled and pulled it free as Sophita spoke again "No you don't…" She was cut off as a panicked villager emerged from the field spluttering "Miss Sophita, the bandits have returned!"
Jason and Sophita walked through the empty village towards the square, his eyes darting for potential targets, hers still, empty and heavy with resignation. "Who are these bandits, Sophita?" She continued to walk solemnly, stating her answer blankly. "They come every now and again, and we have to bribe them to leave us alone with food, supplies… and women." She paused on the last word, and Jason tightened his grip of the haft of his scythe as they stepped into the crowded village square to see Julia and Tamara in conversation with a huge man clad in barbaric clothing, the picture of a brutish ancestor of modern humanity. Behind him was a small force of similar beasts, all of their faces twisted into cruel smirks. "…And I want her." Jason caught the end of the leader's sentence as he thrust his thick finger at Tamara. She turned to look at Darius in a panicked plea for help, but he turned away from, sacrificing Tamara to the man's uncouth whim to save himself. She took a step back, and the leader lunged for her. Before Tamara could finish her scream, a flash of steel severed the hand in a red spray and the scythe tore out of the man's back as Jason spun on his heel and plunged the blade through the bandit's torso.
He pulled the blade out of the corpse, it crashed to the ground. The red mist narrowed his vision, he spoke in predator snarls and animal growls. "I won't let you touch her." The bandits recoiled in shock as they saw the crimson fluid pour from their former leader, and the killer struck, suddenly and violently, the scythe rising and falling in bloody arcs. Limbs flew through the clouds of crimson viscera torn from rent bodies and blood flowed like a river. The killer left carcasses in his wake, his scythe finally coming to rest when he ran out of things to kill. He saw Sophita and Tamara look at him in horror, a grim figure stained with gore, his prey's lifeblood dripping from the scythe's blade. "Il Angelos Mortis. The Reaper." Julia whispered as the villagers parted around the bloody handed pariah.
"Days without alcohol. Ninety three." Jason thought grimly, Sophita had told him repeatedly that alcohol was not good for him. He still needed a drink though. Jason sat in the barn not far from the pile of straw he slept in, looking at the weapon he had forged in the crucible of bloody slaughter. It had been constructed to harvest wheat, not souls; nevertheless it had performed that task perfectly. "Days without killing. Zero". He hadn't lost any of his razor sharp edge, but he couldn't remember the fight like he used to. As soon as he saw Tamara in potential danger, he was already moving to save her, the scythe rising like lightning to separate her attacker's hand from his arm. The rest was a blur of blood-spattered motion, his chained emotions moving him faster than he'd ever moved before. He hadn't even drawn on the Talent, as he had after to heal wounds he couldn't remember receiving. He'd lost control, and all over a girl he couldn't get out of his head.