Shinsekai yori - Reaper

Chapter 8 – Mask

I don’t think I’ve ever, or will ever again, feel that my heart was so empty, but so full. It’s quite the strange sensation, you know. Still, I had to go on, keep living; it was her wish after all. How could I ever go against her wishes?

I don’t know how, but as I exited the cave, the head in my arms had become nothing but a skull. Skin, mask and muscles were all mysteriously gone, which was convenient, to be honest, I didn’t have to clean those.

The second surprising thing was that there was nobody waiting for me. How come? Every time I had a test, those stupid priests were there, waiting for me to finish it. Maybe they thought I failed? Was the best I could think of.

Such suspicion was later confirmed; as I spotted a priest I had never seen and called his attention. “Hey, you, I didn’t fail.” Then I held up her skull, so he could see it. You should have seen his face. It was hilarious, and he almost fell down from the surprise.

“What? H-h-how can you prove that this is the Karma-Demon’s skull?” It was funny, he really looked like he was talking to a ghost.

“What else has a human skull that isn’t outside a Karma-Demon’s influence, you fool? You can enter the cave and check out whether I’m telling the truth or not, but I guess you don’t have the balls for it.” Needless to say, but he didn’t enter the cave, but apparently later someone else did, as they really had to ascertain the truth.

Anyway, later, I found myself back at the cathedral, in front of a somber looking Bishop and some priests. “Congratulations, you are now a Reaper, we hope you can do a good job.” But to be honest, I wasn’t in the mood, so I just told them what I wanted.

“Where can I find a pottery workshop?”

“Excuse me, what?”

“I want to do something in a pottery workshop, can someone tell me where can I find one?”

“What do you need it for?”

Oh, after that I lost, I really, really lost it. I guess that was the second time I talked disrespectfully to a priest? “It doesn’t fucking matter! Where can I find a fucking pottery workshop?” For some reason, shouting seems to work wonders with them. And I finally had my wish.

“They all have some sort of quirk, let it go.” I heard someone say, and I guess they are right. “Why are you still keeping that skull?” But they are still stupid, I guess.

“None of your business.” Saying that and staring was enough to shut any of them up.

As I entered the workshop, something seemed to possess me. With a dexterity that I thought I only had for killing people, I molded the clay and broke the skull in the right places. After I pulled it out of the kiln, I had something that seemed to belong to death itself. I feel like it suited me very well.

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