• Gala stared at Sarabeth. The dream, the cut, the tattoo! "W-what?!" she exclaimed. "Marked by a reaper? What kind of explanation is that?!" she yelled at the tearful Sarabeth.

    Sarabeth stood up. She wiped away her tears and looked at Gala sorrowfully. "A reaper, I'm sure you've heard of them..." she began. Gala quieted. "They gather souls for Memnoch...the devil..."

    Gala shook as her arm ached once more. Both feared speaking the name more than ever, and for Sarabeth to speak it, he must play an important part in the mark. "Mem...the devil created Reapers so that bringing souls to hell would be easier for him. And the Reapers were also given the ability to create more Reapers, should the devil see fit." She sighed. "People who had a well known psychic ability were always targeted. People like you Gala....people who dreamt the future, or the past, or of things in occuring in heaven and hell or neither! The reapers sought out the gifted so that it would be easiest to bestow upon them the reapers tattoo."

    She sat down again, and Gala followed suit. "Each tattoo is unique in it's own way, and it is considered a curse and a blessing. As the tattoos expands to consume the limb it was placed upon, it acts as a countdown."

    Gala eyes widened as her heart started to pound. "A c-countdown? To what?" she asked, fearing the response.

    Sarabeth sighed sadly. "You very well know the answer child. To the death. The tattoo will finish expanding and changing you into a dead being. You will become a reaper, and the only way to know when the change is done is when the pain in your finally fades away and the mark had consumed your whole arm." she finished.

    Gala stared at her. She stood up and shook her head angrily. "No, no no! I didn't ask for this, I don't want to be a dead girl walking, I don't want to kill or fight or die!" she finished in exasperation. With that she ran out of the house before Sarabeth could say anything to comfort her.

    Gala tearfully unlocked her bike and rode off, failing to notice the shadow watching her from the alleyway across the street. The shadow dissapeared and reappeared within Sarabeth's home. Sarabeth turned to it.

    "She won't accept what you've done to her, not easily." Sarabeth said.

    A raspy voice rang through the air. "She doesn't have a choice. Memnoch is asking for new reapers, and who are we but his faithful servants to deny him his every wish."

    The shadow vanished as Sarabeth fell to her knees. "Oh, child, what have I condemned you too?"

    Part 1-http://www.gaiaonline.com/arena/writing/fiction/vote/?entry_id=100945739#title