Reaper's Work (OPEN)(ND)

    Mihri knocked softly on the door of a small square house. Mihri could never understand how Humans could live in homes that were little more than stout cubes. This cube was painted white and was covered with a plastic that mocked wood; with only two windows peering from bedrooms on the second floor. The starless dull purple of the deep city hung behind overcast. The moon still rested low in the early slumber of the evening. The only light emanated from a dozen porch lamps hung up and down the long narrow street. Mihri waited a moment, until a light flicked on behind the door. The door clicked twice, and only opened a crack. A woman peered through, a small woman with narrow eyes and long black hair. Mihri could clearly hear the woman's nervous heart rate. Mihri smiled faintly and willed her Reiatsu to output as little as possible.

“Did Mr. Urahara send you?” Meekly asked the woman in the door.

    Mihri had awoken from a night’s sound slumber to a letter delivered to her. The man of delivery offered no information, though the message told of a cursed area nearby and who must be met to solve it. The message was signed as from ‘a friend of the Gotei’ with a little hat stamped in the corner. However, to say Urahara had ‘sent’ Mihri was something of an untruth. “Yes. I hear you’ve a paranormal problem. I’m here to help.”

    "Oh. Good. Please... come in." The woman slowly opened the door to allow the other to enter. The woman lead Mihri down a hall towards a kitchen. The woman's every move was tentative and shaking, as if true fear had been struck into her. From what was so far unknown, but what she feared for became obvious when a little girl's voice loudly inquired about the stranger as they passed the living room. The woman replied that it was a co worker. She beckoned Mihri down the hall, into the kitchen, closing a sliding door behind her. The kitchen was quiet and bright, lined with high cupboards, pure white counter-tops and an island occupying the very middle.

“Would you like some tea?” the woman asked as she reached for a kettle.

“No, thank you. It would be best to keep our conversation brief.” Mihri replied.

“Oh. Yes. Err… how should I begin?”

“Start with where and when.”

    “Oh.” the woman paused, her heart rate flushed, and she began to fidget with her hands. “My father died recently… left me the old mansion I… moved in with my daughter two months ago. Everything was fine for the first few days… then… in the middle of the night the house filled with this horrible smoke. It was black and thick, I couldn’t breathe, my daughter was screaming. I just grabbed her and ran.

    I… I called the fire department. I thought the house was burning down. The house was hot like an oven. The smoke clung to the roof. Like a fire, right? But when the firefighters came… they said the couldn’t see anything! Like… there was a cloud hanging over the house. I could see it! But they couldn’t. They went into the house... and came out angry. They said there was nothing wrong and I was wasting time and money. Then... Then..."

    The woman pressed a hand to her forehead, and began to fight the urge of her emotions to explode. Mihri stared at the woman, awaited for her to continue. "I saw it. The... I don't even know what it was. It was... tall... really tall... like ten feet tall. It had arms and legs like a person but a huge head that was white like bone with big antlers. It had long claws too- it raised a hand and pointed at me. Then it screamed that... scream..."

    White like bone. Mihri allowed the woman another moment to again regain her composure. The woman continued, "I fainted. Woke up the next day in the hospital. They gave me a bunch of tests and sent me home. I have an appointment for a psychological evaluation next week. I'm not crazy, am I?" She asked pleadingly.

Mihri shook her head, "No. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Many humans can see into the spiritual world. It's an uncommon gift. Less and less rare these days. What was your relationship with your father like?"

    "Oh. Good." The woman seemed genuinely relieved. "Our relationship was fine. Mostly. He didn't like my husband. I insisted. We became hadn't spoken for about a year before he died. Surprised he still cared enough to leave me the house and some money."

    Mihri was silent for a long second, looking over the woman's face. The pieces are coming together. With some luck, the hollow might only be tied to the house. It would be a quick and easy cleansing of a newly made hollow. No mysteries to solve, no secrets to uncover. Just another day at work. Mihri took the address of the manor in question and bid her leave, refusing a second offer of tea.

-

    It had not taken long to arrive at the manor in question. Two dozen flash steps took her over the low rooftops of the Karakura's outskirts, over some patches of farm, and a river. She arrived at an imposing iron gate bearing a worn eagle crest. A dull haze hung over an immense mansion of flat roof and pillar, mock crenelations and a dome over the western wing. A garden with rows of hedges and flower pots surrounded the manor. There was no smoke nor hollow yet to be seen. Mihri could sense nothing, her communicator was silent. There was only the manor and a cliche fog.

    Two flash steps had Mihri over the gate and in the garden. She shrugged Mokin off her back to be at the ready in her hand. The garden was empty and unmoving. Mihri's eyes could always see despite even darkness alike to the manor garden, pitch black with only the moon providing scarce and often obstructed light. She advanced slowly towards the front of the house where the stillness persisted. Perhaps the firefighters were right, Mihri began to reflect. Strange it was that there was not a hint of Reiatsu. She would not be here if the case was empty. Mihri became curious beyond a professional intrigue.

    She passed half a circle of pillars that surrounded the front door. She slowly pressed the latch and shoved the massive wooden door open. With a tentative step she entered a cavernous entry hall lined with fine woodwork and paintings. Before her was a staircase that lead to a balcony along the second floor that linked to halls and various rooms. The lower floor lead to further rooms, countless doors dotted immeasurable long corridors. The house was dark and quiet, though darkness was never an obstacle for Mihri. Her eyes drank her surroundings and found naught but a massive mansion occupied only by dust and shadows.

    Shadows crept and shifted in the moonlit haze of the manor, seeming to come a little more alive every time Mihri took a step. It began to feel hot, very hot, and quickly grew uncomfortable. Mihri advanced up the stairs, her sword ready. Shadows shifted. She made left at the crest of the stairs, then right past a corner into a corridor. A shadow shifted out of the blackness of an open room, distantly downward the corridor, a tangible blackness emanated from the room. The blackness came next as a body, much greater in stature than a man though exact in shape, save for meter long claws for fingers. Darkness swirled its body like a robe. It turned a white mask bearing stunted antlers and deep red eyes to Mihri as it crossed the width of the corridor to another room of yawning black.

    Finally. The hollow passed out of another yawning black, but this time from a different room halfway down the hall, he passed to the next room across the hall, entered, and appeared again from a black room nearer to Mihri. It made no noise, of physical or Reiatsu, it only made itself known. The mansion was becoming a sauna with its growing heat. Sweat dripped from Mihri's brow as the Hollow again passed into a black expanse. This pattern persisted as Mihri patrolled the manor. She investigated for areas that held a high density of Reishi and spiritual energy. The monster trailed her the whole way, moving through those areas devoid of light, in and out again.

    The house was a maddening labyrinth of winding corridors and interconnected rooms. At the end of a hallway Mihri discovered a spiral staircase that lead down into a kitchen large enough to itself be a small home. The kitchen rested as dark as any other room in the manor, silver appliances and steel cabinetry stood cloaked in darkness. The kitchen, even comparative to the growing kiln of the rest of the manor, was incredibly hot. In the room's very corner was a door leading to a staircase and basement, open and spilling curling tendrils of shadow. Mihri approached the shadows, holding her sword out in a defensive guard, preparing for the hollow to strike.

    Mihri heard a deafening scream, and knew she had found its lair. From her rear a claw extended from the shadows with a thrust, a massive body appeared and another claw swung from the opposite side. Mihri spun and parried one claw with her sword, while dancing out of the way of the other. She was not yet safe, as the monster rotated his claw and made for another thrust. Mihri stepped back, only for the hollow to step out of a shadow and draw four red lines across her cheek. Mihri stepped back again, and nearly tripped on the counter behind her. She was running out of space in an unfamiliar environment. Mihri stood ready to defend, with two swords now in hand, one extended before her and one over her shoulder ready to swing. She awaited the hollows next move.

    Her head felt like it was boiling. The heat was unbearable and sudden. It came from deep within her mind, or so it seemed, and radiated outward through her body until her perception of the world seemed to shut down. Mihri was rendered to her knees as her swords clattered to the floor; clutching her head and holding back the will to scream. Her vision was blurred by pain and smoke, but her eyes could still see a red light that emanated from the hollow's forehead. The pain was killing her. The heat. By the gods, the heat.

    With what little focus Mihri could muster, she willed a sword to fly. It shakily hovered up and snapped into place in the air, then flew at the beast. The hollow released its spell as the sword flew, still too slow to prevent the sword from ripping the flesh of its arm, just barely dodging a thrust that would have severed the arm. The hollow screamed with a defiant pain and fled for the shadows of the basement. The door of the basement slammed shut with a force to shake the house.
    
    Every curling shadow gave way to moonlight and Mihri's eyes. She could see clearly where the hollow had blocked her view with dark splotches of its power. The manor was clear and still again. Mihri stood up and grabbed her swords, willing them to become one and sheathing it. There was likely more to this hollow, Mihri knew. It was not so simple as being tied to the house. How deep it went was another matter. She needed to draw the beast out again, on more favorable terms.

    Several hours passed and Mihri lingered in the manor garden on the path near the gate, her sword drawn and rested on her shoulder. As she waited Mihri found a tree racked with claw marks where the creature had clearly been sharpening his distinct weaponry. There was a corpse behind a shed, deeply lacerated and filled with puncture wounds. There was no soul attached to the body. Clearly Mihri had interrupted supper.

Mihri heard a shriek from within the bowels of the house, and drew her sword. The shadows of hedges, statues, and trees came to life around her, curling and reaching, stretching into the night.