Title: The Reapers' Gathering. By: StoryLord.
As we turned into my suburban neighborhood, a sense of unease settled over me like a heavy cloak. The streetlamps cast long, sinister shadows, and an eerie fog rolled in, obscuring the houses as we approached. I couldn't help but notice the figures in trench suits standing outside every house, their presence sending a chill down my spine.
"Grandma," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the ominous silence. "Why are there reapers outside everyone's house?"
Grandma's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, her expression unreadable in the dim light. "They're here for a special gathering," she said cryptically.
I peered closer, trying to make out their features, but they remained shrouded in darkness. "What kind of gathering?"
"The Harvesting," Grandma replied, her tone grave. "It's a time when the boundary between the living and the dead thins, and the reapers come to claim their souls."
I shivered, feeling a sense of dread wash over me. The reapers stood motionless, their eyes hidden beneath the brim of their hats, but I could sense their gaze upon us as we passed by.
As we approached our own house, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. "Are they going to come for us too, Grandma?"
She glanced at me with a sad smile. "Not yet, dear. We have our own protection."
But her words did little to ease my fear as we stepped out of the car. The air felt charged with an otherworldly energy, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched from the shadows.
"Stay close," Grandma whispered, her voice barely audible.
I followed her to the front door, every creak of the porch swing and rustle of leaves sending my heart racing. The reapers remained outside, their presence a haunting reminder of the thin veil between the living and the dead on this ominous night.
