The Identity Of The Sinful Miracle

The night was seemed silent and dark. No one was straying around this area, except for this reaper who was attractively watching the moon with its full shape. There was a light wind creeping in from an open window of the car, raising a cold shiver to her spine. She smiled as she heard the silent whisper of the draught. Suffer, suffer, screams, and pain. The reaper listened to the lullaby that could bring bliss to her sanity. She gazed at the moon once again with a pair of cold eyes. It was gleaming beautifully as it gathered all the shining glory for lighting up the dark. She saw the moon smiled at her, as though it was saying, “In the full circle of the moon, the reaper will rise and take lives!” Who might that reaper be? My lips curled up in an evil smile. Of course, it was Yours Truly. What was Yours Truly doing here in this dark, scary road while the moon who was smiling creepily? Yours Truly was waiting for her target. Based on the information I read, a vicious man was selling orphaned children in the black market. Only the wicked people would kill the poor and the oppressed. It was something unforgivable in this society. "Lady, target sighted. At the lobby, going to the basement parking." It was an instruction coming from my earpiece. It was my analyst for this mission. "Copy," I responded to him, preparing myself to execute my mission. It didn’t take long when I sighted a man had reached the parking area. He was in the wrong business, living his life in immorality. Doing cruel things must be his reason for living, but didn’t sound like living to me. I’d get no sympathy from this man and another life would wither on my blood-stained hands again. An angel of death was only paying a visit to every ruthless people, they must be destroyed—disappear like the mist. I climbed out of my car shortly as I followed him silently without committing any sounds. As he reached where his car was parked, I was a few meters behind him with my concealed presence. Soon, I started to talk, "Hello, sinner," and said in a cold, silent voice, almost like imitating the sound of a graveyard. Nervously with his shuddering stature, he turned his head to my direction. There, I saw his terrified eyes as I let out my ominous bloodlust. I gazed at him blankly and lifted the corner of my lips like the crescent moon. "W-Who are y-you?!"  Stammering voice, shaky system, and fear on his face. He was scared of seeing how deathly I was. "An Angel of Death," I spoke with high authority to my voice. "The one who's going to guide you to the afterlife." "W-What do you w-want?!" he stuttered hysterically, desperate. "It is what I have said." "Screw your nonsense! Spare me! I have money with me, ask how much you want!" "Then would you be kind enough to ask you an enormous amount of money in exchange for your life?” "Of course!" the man said, fixing his tux arrogantly. "I can double the price you want! Triple, if you may wish!" Observing his actions, he was a filthy rich old man. Assuredly, he grew in an environment where money was everything and the lives of those penniless were just nothing. "How fancy." I chuckled in a creepy tone. "What a productive life you have. Where did you get your wealth?" "It is my own business, you prick! Now get lost!" "I'm an Angel of Death," I repeated with a quiet voice while drawing my sword out of its sheath. "Getting lost out of your sight is a shame for my job. Thus, leading you to the hand of the Death God is the reason why I am here." "I-I . . . I don't give a crap about you and your worthless chaff!" he interjected almost falling on his knees. "You've been yelling the whole time," I stated, coaxing a diabolic smile. "Does death scare you? That’s pathetic." This time, he fell on his knees and cried in uproar as he begged me to spare his life. Fear. I lived in people's fear. That was what made me a reaper.  "How presumptuous of you. You ask for your freedom out of the touch of my blade, yet you steal other's freedom for your greed," I told the old man still with a hollowed facade. "Scoundrels like you should leave the mundane world. Your place is perfect in the Underworld." Then the man surprisingly burst in laughing full of mock. He wiped his tears while I couldn't understand if he was laughing or weeping. "Then what about you?! Do you think killing scoundrels like me would make you a better person?! Like the Heroine of Justice? Don't you lump that crap on me! You are no far from what I am! You lout also is perfect for hell! You—" Like I spared another second to let him say a word. I slit his throat off with the sharp tip of my sword. "You have no right to speak ill of me," I spoke while watching him bleed to death. I hit some vitals and veins. Surely, he would die at any moment. "Take heed, I am not here to hear you spat your accusations. Truly, killing you would not make me far from you, yet the hell is too good to allow me in that place. Thus, I am here to help the hell to send someone like you there." After sending my farewell words to him, I stuck the sword through his head. Blood spurted out and let it rendered the floor a masterpiece. A dead person could create art, even at its last minute. Then I left the place. As I walked on the dark path, I stared up to the moon again. It was a beautiful moon, but it had never been perfect. The moon was an ugly creation, it was forever lonely, for it was created to be alone along with its scars. And the worst of it, the moon had this dark side. Even if the sun could light up the dark, but the shadows the moon was hiding would not. The moon only had one purpose: to shine the darkness when the time came. Truly, it gave shine for everyone, but could not enlighten its hidden side. It was a shame, but the moon knew how to be a human. As for someone like me, a sin for a sin. To obliterate sin, I must sin.  Death had a bastard child. And her name is Miracle.   ↭ ♡ ↭ handtheirend