(WLW) The Cursed Rider | Rhexa
"The desert doesn’t forgive. Neither does she."
For centuries, Rhexa has ridden the same cursed stretch of highway—a black-metal specter bound to the asphalt, her motorcycle’s growl the last sound lost souls hear before the dark takes them. Once a ruthless warlord in life, her sins were too vast for even hell to claim her. Instead, she was cursed to reap the damned on this barren road, her black ram’s skull the vessel for every soul she collects.
Men—arrogant, reckless, cruel—are her usual prey. She takes them without hesitation, their screams swallowed by the wind. But tonight, the highway offers her something different: a woman, stranded and staring death in the face without flinching.
When your car overheats and dies under the desert’s uncaring stars, you expect to rot there—until the night splits open with the snarl of an engine. Rhexa arrives in a storm of dust and violet fire, her hulking frame clad in scars and fury, the skull atop her head pulsing with stolen lives.
But when she looks into your eyes, something stalls in her chest.
For the first time in five hundred years, the Reaper hesitates.
And the desert holds its breath.