Chapter Four – Millie
Chapter Four
Millie
Elysia came bounding down the stairs. My heart ached with a fierce, overwhelming love for this little human who had no idea of the burden I carried for her. For a second, I forgot all about the Grim Reaper standing in the foyer of my home. I forgot about the deal with the soul-eating creature that haunted my every waking moment. All I saw was Elysia, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining with mischief, her dark hair – so like my own – growing fast.
It was a miracle, really. Ma-Vasha had kept her word. Elysia was healthy. The leukemia that had ravaged her tiny body was gone. Her hair, which had fallen out in clumps and we had to shave, was growing back, soft and thick. She had energy again, the boundless energy of a child who had been given a second chance at life. And even if it had been at the cost of my own soul, seeing her like this was worth it. Every single sacrifice, every sleepless night, every tear I’d cried – all worth it. It had been so long since I’d seen her like this – healthy and full of life. In fact, I hadn’t seen her this energetic since she was a baby.
“Millie!”
Her panicked shriek reminded me that a Grim Reaper was standing right there, and she had no way of knowing he was harmless.
“Is he here for me?” she asked, hiding behind me, looking at Grim with wide eyes. “I’m not ready. Tell him I’m not ready.”
“No!” I turned around and pulled her in my arms. “No, he’s a friend. A guest. He’s not here for you.” She relaxed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you.” But how could I have told her, when I hadn’t known I was going to hire a Grim Reaper to guard us until I was signing the contract?
“Okay,” she said, pulling herself free. “I’m okay.” She took a step towards him and looked up at him.
Grim simply stared at her, not knowing how to react.
“I read about Grim Reapers on the Internet,” she said.
“But why?” I asked.
A shadow crossed her face, and for a moment, she looked older than her years. It was a look I’d seen more and more often in the months since our parents died, a look that spoke of a wisdom no eight-year-old should possess.
“After Mom and Dad…” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “After the accident, I wanted to know if they’d seen one.”
Of course. “You thought they might’ve seen a Grim Reaper?” My voice sounded strange, even to my own ears.
She bit her lip, a nervous habit she’d developed after the diagnosis. “I wanted to know what they saw at the end.” She looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting together. “And then, when I got sick again, I wanted to be prepared.” She met my gaze, her eyes filled with a heartbreaking maturity. “So I wouldn’t be scared.”
I couldn’t speak.
“I read that Grim Reapers aren’t scary. They’re just helpers. They make sure people aren’t afraid when it’s their time to go.” She looked up at Grim. “I’m sorry I reacted that way. That was impolite.”
Grim shook his head. “No need to apologize.”
Her words, so innocent and yet so profound, hung in the air between us. I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure.
“That’s… That’s very insightful, Elysia,” I finally managed. “But let’s not talk about morbid things right now, okay?” I gestured towards the dining room. “Why don’t you show Grim where we’re having dinner? I’ll be there in a minute.”
She beamed at me, her earlier solemnity forgotten. “Okay, Millie!” She skipped over to Grim, her small hand reaching out to take his bony one. My breath caught in my throat, but to my surprise, he didn’t flinch away. He just stood there, his gaze fixed on her, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in those endless depths. Something akin to… wonder?
It was probably just a trick of the light.
As soon as they were out of sight, I turned and practically ran to the kitchen. I needed a moment to myself. A moment to process what had just happened. The encounter with Grim, the revelation that Elysia had been researching death on the Internet, the fact that I was now harboring a creature of darkness in my home. It was all too much.
At the kitchen sink, I splashed cold water on my face, the shock of it bringing me back to the present. I needed to pull myself together. For Elysia. For the next fourteen days, I had to be strong. I had to pretend that everything was okay.
I glanced at the time displayed on the microwave. Almost seven. Chef Pierre had left a fully stocked fridge before I’d let him go on “indefinite leave”, as I’d put it. When those creatures of clay and straw started popping up, stalking the house, I dismissed all the staff. I did more than that. I drew all the curtains, to all the windows, and made Elysia promise she wouldn’t go out of the house. I had to lie to her and invent a ridiculous story about an airborne virus that was going around. It made zero sense, but so far, my sister hadn’t questioned me.
I pulled out a casserole dish filled with chicken pot pie, a side of roasted vegetables, and a loaf of crusty bread. I carried the food into the dining room, my heart sinking as I saw Grim standing by the window, his back to me. Even in the dim light, his presence filled the room with a sense of wrongness.
I cleared my throat, and he turned to face me. “I’ve set the table for three,” I said, my voice a little too bright. “Hope that’s okay.”
He raised an eyebrow, or at least I thought he did. It was hard to tell with those empty sockets where his eyes should’ve been. “Three? Ms. Aster, I hate to break it to you, but I’m technically dead. I don’t eat.”
A wave of heat crept up my neck at his words. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I just… I assumed…” I stammered, feeling like an idiot.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “I’ll sit with you. It’s been a while since I’ve… dined... with others.”
I couldn’t tell if he meant it, or if he was just trying to be polite, but I nodded and took my seat at the table. Elysia was already seated across from me, her eyes shining with excitement. Since her health had returned, she ate like the world was ending and there wasn’t enough to go around. It filled me with joy. But while her appetite had returned, mine had diminished.
My stomach churned as I looked at the food in front of me. I managed a few bites, but my throat felt tight, and I couldn’t bring myself to eat another bite. Instead, I focused on watching Elysia demolish her meal.
“Millie? How’s Lady Mews?”
I blinked, startled. I’d almost forgotten about Lady Mews and that when I went out this morning, my destination was the pet hospital, not Monster Security Agency. I did go to the vet first, then realized I was being watched, followed, hounded by those things, and that I needed protection.
Lady Mews. Three days ago, she came in with a broken leg at the worst possible time. Or maybe it was fate intervening. I took a sip of water, trying to moisten my dry throat.
“She’s okay. Still recovering from the surgery. She’s doing much better.” I tried to sound upbeat.
Elysia’s face lit up. “But it’s been three days! That’s a long time. Do you think I can see her tomorrow?” She looked from me to Grim.
I shook my head. “Not tomorrow, sweetheart. But soon, okay? Dr. Jenkins wants to keep an eye on her for a few more days.”
Elysia sighed dramatically. “Fine,” she said, then pushed her plate away. She stretched and yawned. “I’m full. Can I be excused?”
“Of course you can. Come give me a kiss goodnight.”
She stood and walked over to me. I hugged her tight, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Part of me wanted to hold on to her forever, to shield her from the darkness that threatened to engulf us.
She pulled back and kissed me on the cheek. “Goodnight, Millie,” she said, then turned to Grim. “Goodnight, Grim,” she said, her voice hesitant. I was sure her research had revealed Grim Reapers didn’t sleep. Still, it was only polite.
He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Goodnight, Elysia.” His voice was surprisingly gentle.
I watched as she climbed the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the silence, her presence a warm light in the growing darkness of the house. I felt hollowed out.
“Do you at least drink?” I asked, picking up my wine glass. It was almost empty, and I really needed a refill.
“No,” he said, an edge of amusement in his voice. “Technically, I don’t have a stomach.”
“Right.” I felt my cheeks flush. Of course. Silly question. I poured myself another glass, then looked at him. “Want to join me in the living room?”
Grim stood up. I followed suit and picked up the bottle of wine and my glass. I didn’t bother with coasters or anything. Coasters felt like something my mother would’ve insisted on, and my mother was long gone. It felt strange to use them now. Like I was pretending to be someone I no longer was.
The living room was large, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the lake. Usually, it was filled with light, but tonight, with all the curtains drawn, it felt small and oppressive. A single lamp cast a pool of warm light in the center of the room, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air.
Grim didn’t seem to notice the gloominess of the place. He moved with a strange grace, his skeletal form seeming to glide rather than walk. It was eerie and mesmerizing at the same time. He sat down on one of the plush sofas, his movements suddenly stiff and awkward, like he felt out of place, his scythe always by his side. I chose the armchair facing him.
“Tell me,” he said. “How is it that a human like you knows about such a creature? Ma-Vasha, I mean. Her kind prefers to operate in the shadows.”
Operate in the shadows. Nice choice of words, I thought. I told him about Dr. Wallace. How after Elysia’s last appointment, when I’d received the news that they’d exhausted all possible treatments, Dr. Wallace pulled me aside, his face pale and drawn beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor.
“He said he knew a way. A way to save her.”
“And you didn’t question his motives?” Grim asked, his voice devoid of judgment. “Didn’t think to ask how a simple doctor knew of such things?”
“I didn’t care! He could’ve offered me a deal with the devil himself, and I would’ve taken it. Because Elysia… she’s…” My voice broke and I couldn’t go on.
“She is your everything.” Grim finished for me.
I nodded, tears pricking my eyes. I quickly blinked them back. I refused to cry in front of him.
“It seems clear to me now that this Dr. Wallace is one of Ma-Vasha’s acolytes,” he said. “They procure sustenance for her. In exchange, she grants them favors.”
“He told me how to summon her,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I did it late that night. In the sunroom.”
The sunroom. I hadn’t set foot in there since then, locked it up and tried to not even think about it. The memory of it, the oppressive heat, the scent of decaying flowers, that creature’s presence… It was too vivid, too raw.
I could still hear her voice, a raspy whisper that seemed to slither through the air.
“A life for a life,” she’d hissed. “A soul for a soul.” Her words, laden with ancient power, had echoed through the silence. “Do we have a deal, Camellia Aster?”
“We do,” I’d breathed, my voice trembling. I would’ve given her anything, sacrificed everything, for even the slightest chance to save my sister.
“Good,” Ma-Vasha hissed, extending a hand that seemed to shimmer with a power not of this world. In her palm lay a vial filled with a viscous liquid. “This poison will ensure our arrangement is upheld.” Even now, I could feel the imprint of her touch on my skin, a searing coldness that lingered long after she’d vanished.
“The sunroom…” Grim’s voice, low and thoughtful, broke through my memories. “That’s where you negotiated with her?” It wasn’t really a question. More of a statement.
“Yes,” I whispered, burying my face in my hands. “And now… now I’m trapped. Just like everyone else who dared to bargain with that creature.”
Silence descended upon the room. But this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was companionable, strangely enough.
“What about Elysia? Does she know?”
My head shot up. “No!” My voice came out sharp with alarm. “She can’t! She doesn’t know!”
“I see,” Grim said, nodding slowly. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Your secret is safe with me.”
I didn’t know why I trusted him, but I did. And so, I told him everything. About the deal, about the poison Ma-Vasha had given me, about the fear that gnawed at me every waking moment. When I was done, I felt drained, empty. Like I’d just poured out the last of my soul along with all those words.
Grim listened patiently, his skeletal face unreadable in the dim light. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t judge, which was, if I thought about it, incredibly bizarre. But his silence was comforting.
In the end, I was the one to break it. “Now you know.”
He nodded.
“If this arrangement of ours is going to work,” Grim said, his voice taking on a business-like tone, “We need rules. Three to be exact.”
Rules. Of course. What was I expecting, really? To just have him hang out and keep those weird creatures of clay and straw from killing me? This was a Grim Reaper, after all. Not some friendly neighborhood watch volunteer.
“Okay,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “What are your rules?”
He held up a bony finger. “Rule number one: a deal is a deal. Understand, Ms. Aster, I can protect you from Ma-Vasha’s little pets, but I cannot interfere with the terms of your agreement.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “You made a deal with a creature of immense power, and that power demands a hefty price.”
I knew what he was saying. He was reminding me that my life was forfeit. That no matter what happened, no matter how many of those creepy Poppets he vanquished, in the end, I would have to drink the poison.
“I understand,” I said, my voice catching in my throat.
He nodded. “Good. Rule number two,” he said, holding up a second skeletal digit. “You do exactly as I say. No questions asked.”
Given the circumstances, I wasn’t really in a position to argue. “Alright,” I agreed. “No questions asked.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Now, rule number three…” He hesitated, those empty sockets seeming to bore into me. “My cloak and my scythe,” he said finally, his voice low and menacing. “Off limits. You don’t touch them. Ever.”
I frowned, confused. “But I’ve touched them already,” I pointed out. “Back on the rooftop, and in the car. Nothing happened.”
He stiffened, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. “Nonetheless, Ms. Aster, they are off-limits. You will not touch them again. Is that understood?”
I raised my hands in surrender, trying to hide my amusement. “Alright, alright. Message received. No touching the Grim Reaper’s… accessories.”
He just stared at me, his skeletal face unreadable. He must’ve sensed my amusement, because he let out a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Good.”
Silence fell between us, and I found myself thinking about his rules. The first two, I understood. But the third – the cloak and the scythe – what was it about these items that made them so untouchable? I mean, I’d already manhandled the scythe, shoving it unceremoniously into the backseat of my car. He’d definitely been annoyed.
I took a sip of my wine, my gaze lingering on Grim. He was staring into the empty fireplace, his face illuminated by the flickering light of the lamp. Suddenly, I felt a surge of… something. Gratitude? Sympathy? I didn’t know.
“Thank you,” I said softly.
He turned to look at me, those empty sockets seeming to pierce through me. “For what?”
I smiled. “For giving me a fighting chance. For protecting us.”
He didn’t say anything, just inclined his head slightly.
Maybe things were going to be okay, after all. At least for the next fourteen days.