Zoe Becker

The Light of Civilization (and the Shadows it Stole)

Before you, my life made sense. It was natural to hunt at night. A flash of feathers and razor-sharp talons. A single swift blow, an all-encompassing pain, and then the calming invitation of joining the stillness of a cold, dead night. I was a pale-white reaper cloaked in darkness, unseen until the fate of my prey is sealed.