Riveck Livian's Story

Dusk was firmly settling in by the time the plane had began its final descent onto a desolate strip of baron land that was supposed to be a landing zone. There was no one to greet them as they landed, let alone help guide their landing. The plane shook violently as its wheels hit the uneven ground; eventually the friction from the ground slowed the plane to a skidded halt.

Dante and his co-pilot Lorell were exhausted from the trip. Neither of them wanted to be out here in Rouen, but there destinations were rarely their choice. They need a vacation in the worst possible way.

Dante was forty seven years old and had been a pilot for the past twenty-three years. He was the father of three children, two boys and girl, and the husband to a beautiful yet modest wife, Sasha. They were everything to him and he worked these miserable hours and flew to the most remote of locations to provide for them. Sasha worked from their home washing the townspeople’s laundry, their daughter, Rasta; helping even thought she was only seven years old. His two boys, Clausel and Ricot, ages seventeen and thirteen respectively, did small jobs around the town for minimum wages. Sometimes just for food. Either way, a family of five in a poor village was never an ideal situation, but they made due and they were happy.

Lorell on the other hand was a young man of only twenty. Dante had taken him on as his co-pilot less than three months ago. Lorell had a natural talent and reminded Dante of when he was a young pilot, eager to see the world. Lorell had specifically requested the contracting company to be paired with Dante. He knew that Dante always flew to the most exotic of locales, and he wanted to waste no time in surveying new places.

Dante was not always pleased with flying his lone passengers to their odd places and then waiting for them to return to fly them back, but it was the highest paid job he could have with the company. He always felt the money may be dirty, but he didn’t mind sullying his hands for his family. In this business, the fewer questions asked the better.

Lorell immediately lowered the stairs and disembarked. “Hey! Don’t go running off, we gotta stay with the plane,” barked Dante after the eager boy.

“I know, I know. I’m just gonna look around a bit. I’ll stay close. Don’t be such a worry wart.”

Dante just sighed and smiled. He liked having Lorell around; it reminded him he was still a parent, yelling after his kids when they would run off due to some mischief. Being alone in the cabin was calming. Well, he wasn’t exactly alone. But he might as well be. The man that was his passenger hadn’t spoken a single word to them the entire trip. Not that most of his passengers enjoyed idle chit-chat, but most of them at least entertained pleasantries.

Dante knew he has to at least speak to this man once; he needed to know how long he would be. Dante hoped for a swift return. “So, sir, what time shall I be expecting your return?”

The man was in the back of the plane, mostly shrouded in shadow. There was a palpable silence after Dante spoke. He wasn’t entirely sure if the man heard him. Dante craned his neck around his seat and stared into what look like an abyss. Louder this time,”Sir-“

“Dante, you gotta come see this place, it’s so beautiful at nigh…” Horror stuck the boys face. He was silent as he crept towards the crumpled mass next to the pilot’s seat. Blood was splattered all over the window and the steering console. Dante’s lifeless eyes were staring up at the ceiling. There was a single bullet wound in the center of his forehead, a small trickle of blood was leaking from it into the pool that was amassing underneath his head.

Lorell was incoherent. He spun around to where the man was standing, but only saw an outline of shadow. He screamed the only thing his head could grasp at the time in a hoarse rage, “Why?!”

Riveck simply drew his pistol and aimed it, the only visible thing outside of the shadow. “Orders.”

The last thing Lorell saw was the coldness of his eyes. It was the most bone-chilling stare he had ever seen, and yet, it wasn’t filled with hate. It was empty. Lorell thought of his first flight. And then he crashed.

Riveck began his slow march towards Rouen. It would take him some time, the landing zone was a bit farther off from the town than he had intended, but Riveck didn't mind the quiet walk alone through the dense woods.

Riveck didn't regret killing Dante or Lorell. In fact, he was happy to be rid of them. Loose ends were not a part of Riveck's plans, and they always made a mess of things to clean up in the end; Riveck preferred to clean as he went.

Two more souls closer, he thought. Riveck had his own motives for wanting death and destruction to follow him. It was the path that he chose. Yes, his parents were killed at a young age, and yes he was groomed to be a natural borne killer, but Riveck was never compelled to do any of this. He felt a yearning, a desire, to want to be the one that ends life.

Paradoxical, Riveck revered all life, and respected it. But, he believed that if you are not willing to own the defense of your own life, then you deserved to have it ripped from you. Sentimental attachments only increased the lives you would have to defend, yours and your love, and your children, and your grandchildren. That was a responsibility that Riveck would never undertake, his life was the only one that matters.

It is not like he had much choice in the way of sentiment anyway. For who could love him? He was a monster, no better than the malice instilled beings that blindly killed everything in their path. The difference was, Riveck was worse. Riveck thought out the death of others, Riveck assured it. No one could ever love someone like that. Even if he decided to poor his entire twisted soul out to another person, it would only be wrenched away from him, and he would be left broken, alone, and scared.

What is worse, Riveck would never be able to handle that kind of emotion. Being alone for his whole life, if that was to happen it would be too much. He could not stand to see his love happy with another person. It would mean their deaths, or his own. Riveck had a mind to end himself every so often, when he thought that maybe he didn't deserve the life he was living, being a harbinger of death. But then he realized that that day would only come after his soul had been completely unraveled, and right now it was only incomplete.

But he still knew no one would ever love him. So Riveck whistled a tune – I'm the angel of death, babe the end is near. Keep your hands on your chest, don't let me whisper in your ear. It's best to keep on walkin', lock the door when I come knockin', mines the voice you never want to hear. Oh, mine's the voice you never want to hear. - And he walked alone, down the dark path of death and destruction, forever unloved, until someone came along, and destroyed him completely.

And he heard a noise rustle through the trees, stopped his tune, and turned so that the intruder could too, look into the eyes of death.