I've seen it all. The desperate, the vengeful, the sorrowful—they all cross my path eventually. I am the Grim Reaper, the eternal observer of life's final moments. Today, I witness a tale of love twisted into something monstrous.
It began in a small, picturesque town where David and Emily, a seemingly perfect couple, lived in a charming old house. Their love story was the kind that made others envious—high school sweethearts, inseparable since their teenage years. But beneath the facade of their idyllic life lay a darkness that even I had not anticipated.
Emily was beautiful, with an otherworldly grace that turned heads wherever she went. David adored her, doted on her, never suspecting the sinister truth hidden behind her angelic smile. He was a kind man, hardworking and loyal, the type who believed love could conquer all.
It was a stormy night when I felt the pull, the inevitable tug that signaled another soul nearing its end. I arrived silently, invisible to the living, and watched as the evening unfolded in their cozy living room. David was preparing dinner, humming a tune as he worked. Emily sat at the table, her eyes glinting in the dim light, her demeanor calm and composed.
But there was something different about her tonight, a predatory gleam in her eyes that I had seen too many times before. She stood and approached David, her movements fluid and deliberate.
"David," she said softly, her voice like silk. "Do you love me?"
"Of course, Emily. You know I do," he replied, turning to smile at her.
"Would you do anything for me?" she asked, stepping closer.
"Anything," he said, without hesitation.
Her smile widened, but it was no longer a loving gesture. It was something darker, more sinister. In a swift, almost imperceptible movement, she revealed a glinting knife, hidden behind her back. Before David could react, she plunged it into his chest.
He gasped, a look of shock and betrayal in his eyes as he fell to the floor. Blood pooled around him, soaking into the wooden planks. Emily knelt beside him, her eyes locked onto his as life drained from his body.
"Why?" he choked out, his voice weak.
"Because, my love," she whispered, "I am not what you think I am."
And then, as if shedding a mask, her true form emerged. Her skin darkened, eyes glowing with an unnatural light. Sharp fangs extended from her mouth as she transformed into a creature of nightmare—a Far, one of the ancient beings that fed on human flesh.
I watched, impassive, as she savagely tore into his body, feasting on his flesh with a ravenous hunger. It was a sight I had seen countless times, yet it never ceased to be grotesque.
David's soul hovered above his mutilated body, confusion and horror etched on his spectral face. He turned to me, his eyes pleading for understanding.
"Why?" he asked again, his voice echoing in the ethereal realm.
I sighed, a soundless gesture, and pointed to the scene below. "She was never human, David. She deceived you, lived among you, fed off your love and trust until the moment was right."
"But... why me?" he whispered.
I looked at him, my hollow eyes reflecting his sorrow. "Fars choose their prey carefully. She needed your devotion, your unyielding love, to sustain her. In the end, it made your flesh all the more delectable to her kind."
As the grim reality settled over him, his soul began to fade, drawn toward the afterlife. "What happens now?" he asked, his voice a mere whisper.
"Now," I said, "you find peace. And she? She will continue to live, to deceive, to feast. Until the day her end comes, and I will be there to greet her as well."
David's soul disappeared, leaving me alone with the creature. Emily—no, the Far—finished her gruesome meal and stood, wiping the blood from her lips. She glanced in my direction, sensing my presence, but she could not see me.
"Until we meet again," I murmured, knowing that one day, her time would come.
And so, I moved on, a silent observer of life's darkest moments, waiting for the next soul to guide into the beyond. For in the end, death comes for all, even those who hide behind a mask of love.
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