The Reaper moved towards the clearing in which the fountain stood, happy couples wandering about, blissfully enjoying their day with no inkling as to what horrors were about to befall them. Though everything in her appearance suggested that this was, in fact, the Reaper, there was something slightly unsettling about her appearance. Dalanesca’s eyes, which usually appeared as an incredibly bright, icy blue in color, were deep pools of black. Her head was tilted awkwardly to one side, and she moved with stiff motions, as though she were jerking her limbs forward and fluttering through time in brief steps. The air around her seemed distorted, as though she had cast some sort of warding magic.
With each stiff step the Reaper took towards the clearing, her lips curled into a more sinister sneer. In one hand, she held clutched a bit of rope that was secured to a large burlap sack, dragging on the ground behind her. Some sort of liquid seemed to be seeping out of the bag, leaving a dark red streak in its wake.
Strangely, it seemed that the townfolk meandering near the fountain paid no mind to the deity in their midst – perhaps she was not drawing enough attention to herself, even with her staggered movements and odd luggage in tow. This seemed to work to her advantage, as she found a small area off to one side where no one was located.
It was here that she lugged the burlap sack forward to her side and dumped its contents upon the ground, muttering a strange word which caused a bit of distortion around her. If anyone were to try to peek at what she was doing, they wouldn’t see a thing, albeit only for a brief moment.
When the distortion lifted only a few moments later, Dalanesca had her back to the contents of the bag that had been strewn on the ground, her sinisterly smiling face pointed towards the inhabitant’s of the fountain’s clearing. ”People of Mamlak – let me show you my masterpiece,” she said, her voice commanding and almost sounding as though it were peppered with something malicious and other-worldly. She stepped to one side, gesturing towards the arrangement she had made behind her.
The bag had apparently contained a number of body parts – heads, legs, arms, torsos – that had been brutally severed from one another. The Reaper had arranged them in a strange fashion, almost as in a spiral on the ground, with a stack of torsos at the center. It was meticulously planned out, in a fashion that clearly meant something – but that something was certainly unknown.
”Something is missing!” she exclaimed, as the onlookers who had now turned their attention to her looked on in terrified realization as they began to see what it was that this goddess had done. With a swift movement, Dalanesca shot forward, grabbing one of the men closest to her, snatching him right away from the woman with whom he walked. ”You’ll do nicely,” she said, taking him by each shoulder – and with another viciously quick movement, she ripped his arms clean from his body.
The man’s fell to his knees, blood spurting from the severed wounds where his arms had once connected, letting out a horrible shriek. She let out a soft giggle and thrust her booted foot into his chest, knocking him backwards. She stepped forward, placing her foot on the center of his chest, her back to his face, and leaned forward, taking one of his legs in her hands. With a clean pull, that too dislodged itself from his body and the goddess let out a shriek of delight. Quickly, she took the three limbs, leaving the man bleeding on the ground, and turned to place them upon the spiral, completing the last arm. ”Much better,” she said, turning to look at the crowd with her deep, abysmal eyes.
