The Sunset

Reaping Side Story:

The Sunset

(Story dedicated to Amelia Catherine Bates)

Clarissa looked at the white flowers on her desk, the same white flowers that Necross gave her not so long ago. She stared at the flowers petals as though trying to count them all.

Suddenly, the new elevator door dinged. Necross walked through the sliding doors of the elevator, dressed in a suit and tie like always.

“Are you ready?” Necross asked.

Clarissa stood up from her desk. “Yes.”

It was oddly bright for an Undrworldian Autumn. The dust in the sky was shining a brilliant hue of red and there was no rain in sight. Morning dew dripped off of every outdoor flower petal as though they were freshly watered. Few people littered the city streets, but they didn’t feel empty. Just quiet.

Clarissa and Necross walked through the park, enjoying the tall and large trees, tripping over roots, and staring up at the creatures in their homes. The screecher birds weren’t out today. Instead the singer birds chirped a beautiful melody that echoed throughout the entire wood. The chirping bugs played in the background like some sort of grand accompaniment to an orchestra.

Necross told Clarissa all about the things he’d done to prepare for the fight against Crator.

Clarissa laughed as Necross told her all about how he had nearly sliced his own arm off and the time that he almost passed out due to exhaustion on his first day.

At last, the two of them acted as though they could talk to each other on some sort of an equal level.

Clarissa told Necross all about how difficult her day was at work. Her designing computer broke down and she had to go out and buy a new one in the middle of the day. She told him all about her new scientific advancements, even though Necross thought many of them were somewhat bad ideas.

Then, they finally reached their destination, Kre and Angelina’s memorial. Kre’s body was covered by the Shade of the nearby trees and cooled by the dew drops of the grass. Angelina’s bright face, on the other hand, let up the sky with its bright golden hue.

When Necross and Clarissa reached the statues, the chatter between the two of them stopped. They didn’t say anything for nearly a minute as they gazed up at the statues. Clarissa closed her eyes at let out a soft sigh that almost made Necross cringe.

“I still miss them.” Clarissa said.

Necross smiled. “I think that’s normal.” He put his hand on her back and she turned her head to look at him with bright green eyes. “If you really care about someone, even when their gone, you still think about them, all the time. That’s something that doesn’t’ end. But that’s just my thoughts. I’m sure there’s a million different ways of interpreting why we miss someone.”

“You sound like a textbook.” Clarissa said. “Perhaps you’ve been studying a bit too much. You don’t sound like yourself anymore.”

“I think that’s just a part of growing up.” Necross said. “We’re always changing, up till the day we don’t exist anymore.”

“Change is life. Death is still.” Clarissa said.

“Then how do you explain us?” Necross asked.

“Souls are the embodiment of life.” Clarissa said. “We’re always changing. But our bodies—“ Clarissa giggled. “Well, MY body, is buried in the ground, unmoving, unfeeling, and uncaring.”

“Kind of like a memory.” Necross said. “Memories can never be changed, they just sort of fade away, into dust.”

Necross looked up at the statue of Angelina. “Yeah, into dust.”

“But that’s why we have books, and songs, and art, and dances. To help us remember them, even if the way we remember them gets a little warped with time.”

“Do you think that they’d be happy?” Necross asked. “About what we we’ve done for them? Do you think they’d be proud of what we’ve become? What we’ve done?”

Clarissa smiled. “So you don’t know all the answers. Hmph. Well, honestly I can’t say for sure. But if I remember Kre and Angelina correctly they’d both be telling you yes.”

Clarissa turned to continue down the amber road, into the shining dust that looked like a warm morning sunset.

Necross bowed to the statues and whispered low enough so that Clarissa couldn’t hear. “Thank you… For everything.”

Then, Necross too, turned to walk down the red road laced with golden yellow and white flowers into the red dust shimmering like a golden sunset.

Story dedicated to Amelia Catherine Bates

Nov 17th,1992- Oct 22nd, 2008

What a bright yet cold sunset rising over the early morning dew.