Harrow Elizabeth

The Reaper's Heart

The end of the reaper’s scythe dragged through ash as he wandered through a world he was once a part of. He didn’t remember his life, not anymore. He was able to recall shadows, breaths of memories that floated through his mind like flakes of snow that he could never hope to catch. His heart no longer beat, and emotion was as foreign to him as the countless souls he led from one existence to the next. His sole duty wasn’t to know the souls he reaped, it was simply to guide them, guide them to an existence that he himself had rejected.