"Here it comes," Zaza's flat and distant voice drifted from the shadows.
The air tore open with a sound like silk ripping, and reality split apart. Through the rift stepped the Reaper, but it wasn't the same one.
At that moment, Kurt felt like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped on his back.
This Reaper was different. Feminine. Her skin was pale, not like Cassandra's cool alabaster, but chalk-white, bloodless, like she'd never seen sunlight in her existence.
She had short, messy black hair and she moved with a laid-back ease that felt deeply wrong for something that existed to end lives.
She wore a white mask identical to the first Reaper's, but everything else was casual, almost human. A black tank top clung to her frame, revealing toned arms covered in intricate tattoos.
She had black jeans on and her nails were all painted black. If Kurt hadn't just watched her step through a tear in spacetime, he might've mistaken her for someone he'd bump into at a dive bar.
