Daughter of the Reaper

The days were quiet now. No one has been killed for some time. “Perhaps it is over,” some say,
although not to anyone in particular. I knew better. The quiet never lasts long- she was waiting for
something. And when the Great Southern Tower fell, when the seas rushed in to reclaim the ruins of
that fated city, I was not surprised. Not long after, I met a friend of mine- oh, it hardly matters who they were anymore, hardly ever mattered- for a stroll in my garden. “A fluke, for sure. Soon this will all smooth over,” they said. I laughed silently at their jokes. My expression betrayed nothing. I was the last person they spoke to… besides her, of course. When one of the pale moons fell from the sky, I watched from my perch, resting before I must leave for the night. There would be much work to do. It was a terrible sight, so many lost souls. There weren’t many left now. “I know I am next,” said one. “Perhaps,” I replied, and gave them a reassuring smile. I met them again three days later, as they fell screaming from a cliff two hundred miles above the broiling sea. I could only smile as I listened to him blubber his innocence. The waves did the talking for me.

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A bell rang, an ugly, clanging thing. There was little point repairing it now. I smiled to myself.
So, she was here. I knew she would be. The huge black doors swung inward, and framed between
them, shining like a vanquishing angel, my daughter stood. We said nothing. I smiled warmly. “You’ve slain the gods, and now, you come for me.” She nodded, took a step forward. I held out my arms. She was welcome here. Her chest heaved, every movement a struggle. I would say it felt like an eternity, but time has little meaning to a god… and Death does not feel. I did not feel her blade bite into my bones. “I cannot be sorry,” she said. “I cannot be sorry, Father.” I said nothing, only smiled, as the last god fell.