Sneak Peek Wednesday: The Eclipsed by Dara Kent

I suppose my kind was created with this unquenchable appetite for a reason, to make our life’s purpose more than a job, to make it an unavoidable compulsion … an obsession. 

“Lord, have mercy! Are those bodies?”

Lifting my chin, I watched as people hurled themselves from the skyscraper in an attempt to escape being burnt alive. As others ran in horror, I took deliberate strides toward the building, my gaze never wavering.

Nothing is brighter than life just before it’s snuffed out, and I couldn’t look away. Not that I had the option. I was there to record this calamity, this massive extinguishment of human life.

In my peripheral vision a reaper appeared, recognizable by its dark garb, and familiar power signature. At all such events in human history, there was always at least one reaper, and of course, one of my kind. We never interfered with each other, and merely went about our separate business, both cogs in the machinations of the universe.

As I inched closer, my wings appeared, snapping wide in an arc. My body hummed with something akin to delight, not relishing in the disaster before me, but appreciating the warmth I could only feel in times like these.

“Careful, lest someone see you.” The reaper’s warning cut through the smoke and screams, giving me pause.

I inclined my head. “And what difference would it make if someone did? Either they will be dead soon, or no one will believe them.”

“Smart phones available to any whom desire them has changed the game for many,” he replied.

Ah, so we must be in a relatively current time frame. I often forgot to check minor details since my clothing automatically morphed to my current needs. Admittedly, it was a bit sloppy to not pay attention to such things though. Even still, I couldn’t withhold my chuckle. “No one ever notices me.”

Like all lunas, I blended in. Human eyes passed over me with disinterest, everything about me … neutral. They saw: Not quite cute, neither pretty nor ugly. Thin, not skinny or curvy. Average height for a female, not short or tall. Neutral, beige skin tone. Brown hair, not strikingly dark or mousy. Even when my wings appeared, they were drab tones of brown, resembling that of the insect called moth. I was the real life equivalent to background noise. You know it’s there, but you don’t pay it any mind, and can’t recall it later if asked to.