Authors: J.H. Carnathan
I keep working at it, concentrating, trying to remain calm. Time passes.
I look at the clock: 34:00.
I look down at the broken glass beside me. I see only myself. My reflection looks up at me. “There are no seats in heaven for losers,” I hear it say. I feel the temperature dropping, letting me know the time is almost up.
I rise, walk toward the meat locker door, and push it open. I rip off two of the leftover knives that were still strapped on to my body. The reapers all look over and see me out in their midst. Suddenly, the sprinklers kick in. They all begin to scream out and run aimlessly around the kitchen. I watch as, once the water touches down onto a reaper, it spreads like a virus, freezing them instantly.
Without thinking, I quickly run over through the flood of reapers to get to the silver cloche cover. The floor is paved with ice, making me dig in more with my cleats. Each reaper freezes over in front of me, blocking my view. I swing my blades, slashing and cutting my way through the wintry maze of reaper-formed ice sculptures. Shards of ice shavings fill the air with every incision I perform. The water from the sprinkler heads drench me to my feet. Each reaper coming through the kitchen doors tries to make an attempt towards me, but instantly freezes over.
I turn in shock to find a reaper with its skeletal arm outstretched, inches from my face. I quickly bounce back and see that it’s slowly frozen. I fling my knife to its face. It sticks in deep, shattering the frozen reaper into pieces. I turn back to see the cloche cover getting kicked around like a soccer ball from the reapers piling in the kitchen.
I look at the time: 34:50.
I take a couple steps back, breathe in, and launch myself forward. I slide down the slippery iced floor, through the frozen reapers, connecting my blade with anything that gets into my path.
I glide into the clothe cover and scoop it up. It is still frozen over. I see the hourglass reflection in it.
The clock reads 34:55, 56, 57.
I instantly stand up, hold it up above my head, and then with all my strength, hurl it across the room, hitting a reaper in the face.
35 Minutes
The cloche explodes upon collision. All the reapers turn to look at the shattered cover and back at me.
I make my escape.
I run through the frozen dining area, out the balcony, and leap off the roof into the darkness of the night. Seeing that the day has already turned into night lets me know that I am passed the 35 minute mark.
I land on the frozen ground. Still running, I begin to think of what I should do next. The music is about to play. I need to make it back towards the tree before I get sucked in.
I run over and gaze at the ice-covered park. In horrific shock, I see the tall oak tree burning in flames and chopped to the ground.
How did this happen?
I wonder, knowing deep down it was one of my demons. The snow continues to fall over the night sky as I hear more reapers in the darkness across the park. I turn and run for the subway, recognizing it is my only option.
I run down the stairs and across the subway station. Coldness buries itself deep into my bones, yet my body feels almost adaptable to the cold. I haven’t felt this chilly since Raphael tossed me into the frozen water tank. Almost as if he knew the more I progressed in the race, the colder it would get.
They all somehow contributed in teaching me on how to survive in this cold condition. The frozen Ferris wheel, the frigid staircase, the Siberian hurricane, the all-out ice bound sprint to the tree. All were somehow designed to help me battle the hazardous freezing conditions of this race. If they weren’t my demons, I would kiss them. I see the train stopping. The doors open and I run in.
The subway moves slower over the frozen rails below. I sit, looking across at my reflection in the window.
“You can’t stop,” my reflection says. “The music is going to play soon. You might have learned to withstand the cold and fight off a reaper or two, but you still haven’t learned how to control yourself from going under. If you are going to survive then you are literally going to have to think of something. You have three hourglasses left to reach before 42:02
!”
I look at my reflection and see the hourglass beside it. I quickly smash the window with my fist. It shatters as I think,
Now I have two left.
I suddenly hear a loud thud coming from the roof at the far end of the subway car. I raise my gun, looking at the windows around me getting frosty. After a second, they all freeze up and shatter, simultaneously. I watch the entrance doors as they are now starting to frost over.
I hear shrieking at the tail end of the train. I turn my head and see an unknown man wearing the mask, walking into my subway car. He marches through the doors, holding a flintlock pistol in his hands. I spin, aiming the gun at him.
My reflection in the train window scoffs, “It must be Barachiel under that mask. He is coming to kill you! Shoot him before he can get a shot off. Or do you not want to see Anna again?!”
I pull the trigger. The bullet flies out and hits him. The impact sends him into the wall. A loud shattering noise is instantly heard, making me guess the doors have been blown off. I see the wounded man sliding his body off the wall and out of the train. I quickly reload. I take out the green marble bag, roll out the last bullet, and place it in the muzzle of the pistol. I use the rod on the side of the pistol to load and secure it, holding the hammer in place.
From out of nowhere, a flood of reapers bursts up through the bottom of where I am standing. I take the pistol and place it behind my back.
I grip my
hatchet
, lift it, and stick it in a reaper’s skull. The reaper’s scythe falls from its hand. I grab it in mid-air and swing it around me, taking off two heads of reapers coming up through the floor.
I look ahead for any sign of light from the next station—my stop—ahead. I slide past one of the reapers, cutting it in half with my scythe. I get up, jump to the window, and swing myself up onto the roof. Reapers fly up and in a flash, cut off my scythe-holding arm. It freezes and shatters off the roof of the train.
The subway car enters the station. Leaning on my remaining hand, I jump off the train toward the platform. A reaper below slices me straightaway clean in half. Still falling, I form back my lower body and arm instantaneously. I land on my feet on the platform and continue running toward the stairs.
40 Minutes
Still sprinting, I reach the bridge. I feel my body shivering uncontrollably. My core temperature must be starting to reach dangerously below 40 degrees. Snow swarms the atmosphere in front of me, coating a white blanket across the bridge. I push my body forward as I feel my hair starting to freeze over.
Looking behind me, I see a swarm of reapers charging after me. I turn back straight and am surprised to see a glacier sprout out right in front of me. I quickly dart from side to side, evading each glacier rising up from under the bridge, each one busting through the wood, climbing to the sky. The bridge begins to lose balance with every glacier that comes through it.
I estimate that I am only 25 feet away from nearing the end of the bridge. The snow gets heavier, making each step harder to take. The wood from underneath me begins to break. The bridge isn’t stable anymore; I need to get off before it takes me down with it. I feel frostbite creeping up my left leg as another glacier stands in my path.
Getting an idea, I quickly jump and grab tight onto the top of the iceberg. The whole bridge caves in below me as I climb the glacier even higher. The fray of reapers change course and shoot up towards me. I see something pointing out of one of the reaper’s hoods just behind me. The reaper suddenly stops in front of me as if it can’t see me. It turns around scouting the area. It can’t see me, I think. I must be reaching hypothermia state.
I turn, grab hold of the reaper’s sleeve, and jerk it towards me. The cloak comes partway off, exposing my butterfly knife lodged directly in the reaper’s skull. I reach back, but can’t seem to grab it. I jump sideways and the reaper races right by me, an icy slide forming behind the reaper’s cloak. I jump onto it, slipping at first, but then catching myself.
The other reapers draw closer, almost able to touch me. Sprinting as fast as I can, I jump up, taking hold of the knife inside the reaper’s skull, and turn it to the right. The reaper reacts, turning to the right. I tilt the knife back, steering the reaper up into the air.
I steer the reaper toward my apartment, the flood of reapers hot on my tail. I can still see the
hourglass
on the rooftop ledge. Drawing nearer, I pull back hard on the knife, directing the reaper almost vertically. I swing my hatchet back behind me, hitting a reaper drawing close in the face, sending it shrieking, falling down to the ground.
Almost at the rooftop height, I feel like my right eye is icing over as the snow continues to bury my face. The wind becomes more chaotic as I feel my body becoming off-balanced. If I start to run though, my body temperature will rise, letting the reapers know my position. Every hair on my body is completely iced, my left leg has third degree frostbite, my right eye is frozen over, but my left is still focused. The memories of everyone I love plays over and over, reminding me what all this is for.
I breathe in deeply and, though in the midst of the fiercest fight I have ever waged in my whole life, I feel somehow at peace. I pull the knife out of the reapers skull, jump off onto its icy slide, and sprint down. The reaper slowly freezes over, giving me just a couple feet left until it dies, making its icy grid break off under me.
Everything around me seems to be in slow motion. I remember myself as a 23-year-old, running that last lap in the race. I see the finish line ahead. The crowd is on their feet, cheering.
The reapers wrench me back to the present, tugging on my poncho with their skeletal hands. My poncho turns to ice, forcing me to remove it to stop the spread. I continue my pace, looking ahead at the reaper in front of me. Finally dead, the icy slide from under me begins to crack. My leg goes to the fourth degree of frostbite as I see my whole left leg iced over. One more step with this leg and it’s gone, I think.
Suddenly, I feel a brain-freeze come over me. The pain is unbearable. I see the hourglass on the edge of the roof and I quickly cut left, shattering my left leg instantly, leaping off the dead reaper’s broken ice slide toward my window just one floor below. I cut through the hardening winds as I feel like I am almost flying.
Turning in midair back toward the
hourglass on the roof
, about 50 yards away, I throw my hatchet straight towards it. I feel my heart beating slower as I fall through my living room window. My gun and butterfly knife slide away from me on impact. I feel my heart stopping when I hear my hatchet smashing the last
hourglass
on the roof.
Jehudiel is suddenly standing over me holding my pistol over his shoulder, smirking at my fate. “Surprise!” He drags my body to the bedroom. He stands me up, making me hobble on my one good leg, and says, “Don’t be a soulful loser about it. Like I always say, slow and steady wins the race.”
He lifts me up to meet him, causing my flask to drop out of my pocket. “Looks like you’re sticking with me, kid,” he says with a mobster accent. “I wonder what fun shenanigans we’ll get into tomorrow? The coffee shop, the subway train, oooooo even the restaurant sounds like a lot of fun, don’t you think?”
I pay him no attention, staring down at the flask, partially screwed open. I pretend to be agitated, moving my leg just enough to kick the flask cap open. Jehudiel tries calming me down by hitting me in the face. He then tries talking to me. I don’t listen by looking away from him to the bedroom window, not yet broken.
“Good job with destroying all 8 hourglasses, knew you could do it! We can try again tomorrow and the next day and the next day.”
He continues echoing the last few words over and over, trying to get a rise out of me.
“Once the reapers take our memories away we’ll be best friends again! You won’t remember me and I you. Speaking of reapers, where are…”
I smile staring at the window behind him. He doesn’t need to turn. His voice says it all. He hears the reapers outside the window. He knows there is only one thing they can’t see through.
“There were 9 hourglasses, weren’t there?”
Jehudiel turns his head and sees the last hourglass reflecting off my bedroom window along with a crowd of reapers hovering at a standstill outside the sacred glass.
In horror, Jehudiel says under his tongue,“Like a see-through mirror.”
I immediately look down as the water from the flask reaches Jehudiels foot.
He is stuck with nowhere to go.
From the proximity of the reapers, I can tell the water will soon get slowly turned into ice if I don’t hurry.
Jehudiel turns back to me as I go and spit into those false green eyes of deception. While he’s distracted from seeing clearly, I get my body steady. With my good leg, I swiftly grind the edge of my shoe over the now frozen water causing my cleats to retract out. With all the force I can muster, I raise my knee up and quickly plunge it straight down, stomping the spikes into Jehudiel’s foot. I twist my foot, letting the cleats dig deeper in.