Alone in the dark, he felt death creep into his heart. Summoned to the cross by reapers clad in skin. His contract had expired at the tender age of 10. He was now one of them. Reflecting on his past, he had a good run. Loads of laughs, relationships and fun. So he had no regrets when he frenched his makers tongue. And stood calm when the blade slid cross his wrist. The boy quivered, nothing in his mind could prepare him for this. His vision illuminated, bright lights cast the souls of the dead, damned by his own hands. Clutching and clawing they bore into him. He screamed into the night but not an echo was heard. He was now just another number of the growing herd. Apes who chugged their life for a shot of immortality. The animal lived dirty, died filthy.