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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Random_User_499 on 2024-11-25 07:15:47+00:00.


The first time I saw it, I thought it was nothing more than a shadow. A trick of the mind, perhaps, brought on by the sickness that plagued our village. The Black Death had taken so many from us—my father, my brother, my neighbors, one by one. It had been a relentless curse that spread through the streets like wildfire, and soon it was our turn. My mother, my sister, and I lay in the small cabin we had once shared as a family, now reduced to a stifling silence filled with only the sound of our feverish breathing.

I don’t remember the precise moment I first noticed the figure that stood at the edge of the village. It was there, though, always at the edge of my vision, a dark shape cloaked in tattered black robes. I could never make out its face, but there was a chilling presence that wrapped around it like smoke. No one else seemed to see it, but I knew it was there. I saw it every time I glanced out the window, standing at the farthest edge of the trees where the shadows grew long.

It was waiting for something.

The sickness had taken its toll on all of us. My mother’s skin was pale, her eyes vacant, and my sister had grown delirious, babbling in her sleep. And me? I wasn’t far behind. The sweat on my brow burned like fire, and my chest rattled with every cough. I feared I was on the brink of death, just like the others. Yet, there was something deeper within me—a sense of dread that had little to do with the disease, but rather with the figure I couldn’t escape.

I tried to ignore it at first. After all, who had time for shadows when your family was dying before your eyes? But the more I watched it, the more I felt its gaze. It was as if it could see right into me, watching, waiting for something.

That night, after the rest of the house had fallen silent, I heard the scraping of claws on the wooden floor outside our door. I tried to rise from my bed to investigate, but my body trembled with weakness, my legs barely holding me upright. I stumbled toward the door, leaning against the wall, desperate to see who—or what—was causing the noise.

And then I saw it.

It wasn’t a person. It wasn’t human at all. The figure that stood outside our door was tall, its body a swirling mass of shadows that shifted like smoke. Its face—if it could be called a face—was nothing but a hollow skull with empty eyes, dark as the night itself. The creature’s form seemed to writhe, as though it were made of the very darkness that had swallowed the world. Its hands were skeletal, long fingers that twitched and curled, as if it were anticipating something.

I froze, my heart thundering in my chest. There was no mistaking it now. This was no mere shadow, no trick of the mind. This was something far worse.

The creature stepped closer, and the air around me grew cold. I could feel its presence pushing into my chest, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

I wanted to run. I wanted to scream, but no words would come. My legs were rooted to the floor, my body betraying me. My mother’s faint, rasping breaths from the next room were the only sound in the house.

But then, something in my mind snapped. I couldn’t just stand here and wait to die. I had to do something, anything.

My hand groped for the iron poker by the hearth, and I gripped it tight, holding it like a weapon. I stood tall, despite the weakness in my legs, and pointed the poker at the creature.

“You stay away,” I choked out, my voice ragged. “You’re not taking anyone else. Not my family. Not my mother or my sister. Do you hear me? Stay away!”

The creature didn’t respond. It simply stood there, watching me with its empty eyes. A chill ran down my spine, and I felt a wave of nausea rise in my stomach. Still, I refused to back down. I gripped the poker tighter, my knuckles white.

“I’ll fight you,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I even believed it myself. “I won’t let you take them.”

But as I stepped forward, the creature moved with a suddenness that left me gasping. It reached out, not with hands, but with shadows that seemed to envelop the room. The temperature dropped, and I could hear the sound of my own teeth chattering in fear. I swung the poker at the figure, but it passed right through, as if it wasn’t even there.

And then, I felt it—the grip of something cold, like fingers made of ice, closing around my heart. I fell to my knees, gasping for breath, the poker slipping from my hand as I clutched my chest. The darkness surrounded me, smothering me, and I feared that it was over.

But just as suddenly as it had begun, the cold receded. The shadows seemed to pull back, dissipating like mist at dawn. The pressure on my chest lifted, and I dared to look up.

Standing before me was the figure, its skeletal face still obscured by shadows, but now there was a presence, a weight to it that filled the room. The creature wasn’t just a monster—it was something far worse, something I had no words for.

“Do not fear me,” it said, its voice like the wind howling through a graveyard. “I am not your enemy.”

I wanted to scream, to run, but my body was paralyzed with terror. I couldn’t move.

“What do you want?” I whispered, my throat dry.

“I do not want to take. I do not want to steal. I am here to offer release,” the creature answered, its voice deep and resonating with a quiet power. “Your family suffers. You suffer. And I… I can end it.”

I shook my head, confusion and fear making my thoughts muddled. “I don’t understand. You want to take them? Take them from me?”

The creature’s form seemed to soften for a moment, as if it were trying to show some kind of empathy, though I saw no emotion on its face.

“No,” it replied softly. “I do not take. I guide. I ease their suffering. It is time for them to rest. Time for them to be free.”

I looked toward the room where my mother and sister lay. They were sick, they were dying, but… were they ready to go? Were they ready to leave me behind?

But as I gazed at their still forms, I realized something. I wasn’t ready to let go of them, but they had already let go of the pain. The disease was the only thing keeping them tethered to this world. I had seen it in their eyes—there was nothing left here for them. They were waiting. Waiting for release.

“I can help them,” the creature said. “But you must let go of the fear. It is the only way.”

My chest tightened. My mother, her eyes clouded with fever; my sister, trembling with delirium… They were trapped. And I had been too blinded by my own fear to see it. The creature was not here to harm them. It was here to give them peace.

With a trembling breath, I nodded. “Take them,” I whispered. “Take them now.”

The creature stepped forward, reaching out a long, skeletal hand toward the door. A soft light flickered from the darkness as the room seemed to shift, as if the world itself was bending to the creature’s will.

And then, the cold hands of death, once so terrifying, enveloped my family, easing their pain in an instant. My mother’s face softened, the tension in her brow fading. My sister’s shivering stopped, and her features smoothed into serenity.

The creature turned to me, its empty eyes gazing into mine.

“You are not alone,” it said, its voice now warm, like a whisper in the wind. “I will guide you when your time comes. Until then, you must live. But remember, it is not the end that is to be feared, but the suffering that comes before it.”

And with that, it took my family’s souls. I watched as they faded into the light, their forms dissolving into the warmth of eternal peace.

The world around me seemed to fall away, the weight of my fear lifting from my chest. The night was still. The sickness was no longer a threat. The Reaper was gone, leaving me with nothing but the silence of the afterlife and the lingering warmth of the souls it had taken.

For the first time in what felt like years, I could breathe.

The next day, when the sickness had finally taken me as well, I did not fear the darkness. I welcomed it. For I knew, in that moment, that the Reaper was not my enemy. It had come to save us all, to bring us peace when we could no longer find it on our own.

And when my time came, it would be there again, to guide me into the next world, where suffering no longer existed.

For now, I rest in peace, knowing my family is free from pain. The Reaper did not come to steal us away, but to guide us into the light, into eternal peace.

And in the end, that is what we all seek—peace.