Chapter Twelve – Millie
Chapter Twelve
Millie
I woke up with a start, blinking away the haze of sleep. The credits were rolling on the TV screen, the black and white text a blur to my tired eyes. Grim was beside me, and I was tucked safely under his cloak.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I mumbled.
I stumbled to my feet, the world tilting slightly as I made my way to the bathroom. The cold tile under my bare feet helped wake me up a bit. As I washed my hands, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess, and there was a faint imprint on my cheek from where I’d been leaning against Grim’s cloak.
On my way back to the living room, something caught my eye. A face in the window. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. It couldn’t be... Could it? I stepped closer, my hand reaching out to pull back the curtain.
Mom.
She was there, just outside, looking at me with those warm eyes I’d missed so much. A lump formed in my throat, and before I knew what I was doing, I was running. I barely registered Grim’s surprised shout as I bolted past him and out the front door.
The night air was cool against my skin, but I hardly noticed. All I could focus on was Mom, walking away from me. I followed, my feet carrying me across the damp grass without a second thought.
“Mom!” I called out, but she didn’t turn around. She just kept walking, leading me towards the rose garden.
The sweet scent of roses filled the air as I entered the garden. Mom finally stopped, her back to me. My heart was pounding, a mix of excitement and disbelief.
“Mom?” I said softly. “Is it really you?”
She turned around slowly. It wasn’t Mom. It wasn’t even human. The thing that faced me was a grotesque imitation of my mother, its features molded from clay and straw. A Poppet.
I wanted to run, to scream, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I was rooted to the spot, terror coursing through my veins. The Poppet reached out towards me with its straw claws, its lifeless eyes fixed on me. Just as I thought it was going to grab me, there was a rush of air, and suddenly Grim was there. He appeared between me and the Poppet as if by magic, his cloak billowing around him. In one fluid motion, Grim swung his scythe, and the Poppet split in two. The halves fell to the ground with a dull thud, twitching before going still.
I stood there, shaking, trying to process what had just happened. The Poppet’s face – my mom’s face – stared up at me from the ground, its eyes empty and glassy.
Grim’s bony hands shook me gently, and I blinked, slowly coming back to reality. The weight of what had just happened crashed over me, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Without a word, Grim scooped me into his arms, cradling me against his chest as he carried me back inside the house.
Once we were in the living room, he set me down on the couch, his dark eye sockets fixed on me with concern.
“I can’t believe I fell for that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I miss them so much, Grim. Mom and Dad. When I saw her face, I couldn’t help myself.”
Grim nodded, his skeletal features softening somehow. “The Poppets are crafty creatures. They prey on your deepest desires and fears.”
“I had no idea they could look like... like people we love.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “It felt so real for a moment.”
“That’s what makes them dangerous,” Grim said. “They use your emotions against you.”
I wiped my eyes, trying to pull myself together. “I’m sorry for running out like that. I should’ve known better.”
Grim shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You’re grieving, Millie. It’s natural to want to see them again.”
His words were comforting, especially coming from a being who dealt with death on a daily basis. I managed to smile.
“Thanks, Grim. For understanding. And for saving me out there.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” he replied, and I could’ve sworn I heard a hint of warmth in his voice. “Would you like some tea? It might help calm your nerves.”
“That would be nice, thank you,” I said, surprised by the offer.
Grim nodded and headed towards the kitchen. I followed, curious to see how a Grim Reaper would go about making tea. I leaned against the doorframe and watched him move around. His movements were stiff and awkward, like he wasn’t used to doing such mundane tasks. He opened and closed several cabinets before finding the mugs, then spent a good minute examining the tea kettle as if it were some alien artifact.
“The kettle’s electric,” I said, trying to hide my amusement. “You just need to plug it in and flip the switch.”
Grim looked at me, then back at the kettle. “Right,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. He fumbled with the cord for a moment before successfully plugging it in.
As we waited for the water to boil, I found myself studying Grim. It was strange seeing this powerful, otherworldly being struggling with something as simple as making tea. But it was also endearing. Five minutes later, I sat at the kitchen table cradling a warm mug of tea in my hands. Grim took the seat across from me, his dark eye sockets fixed on me.
“Thanks for the tea,” I said, taking a small sip. The warmth spread through me, calming my frayed nerves.
Grim nodded. “Are you feeling better?”
“A little,” I admitted. I hesitated, then decided to tell him the truth. “There’s something I need to tell you about the Poppets.”
He leaned forward, his bony fingers interlaced on the table. “What is it?”
I took a deep breath. “They... they talk to me sometimes.”
“Talk to you?” Grim’s voice was sharp with surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I hear their voices in my head,” I explained. “Usually at night, when I’m trying to sleep. But tonight, when I saw that Poppet outside...”
“It spoke to you?”
I nodded. “It told me something... something only my mom knew.”
Grim was silent for a moment. “That’s why you followed it.”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I knew it couldn’t really be her, but... I had to know how it knew that.”
“They can get inside your head, use your memories against you. You can’t trust anything they say or show you.”
“I know,” I replied. “But it felt so real. For a moment, I really thought...”
“That your mother was back,” Grim finished for me.
I nodded, feeling tears prick at my eyes again. “I miss her so much, Grim. Both of them. Sometimes, it feels like there’s this huge hole in my life, and nothing can fill it.”
Grim reached out, his bony hand hovering over mine for a moment before pulling back. “Grief is complicated. Even for someone like me, who deals with death every day.”
I looked at him, curious. “Do you ever get used to it? Seeing people die, I mean.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “No,” he finally said. “You’d think after a century, it would get easier. But every life is unique. Every death leaves its mark.”
His words made me think about my own impending death. The deal I’d made with Ma-Vasha. Would Grim be the one to reap me when the time came?
“What’s it like being a Grim Reaper?”
Grim tilted his head, considering. “It’s a duty. A responsibility. We guide souls to their next destination. It’s not always easy, but it’s necessary.”
“Do you ever wish you could go back? To being human, I mean.”
His skeletal features seemed to soften. “Sometimes. But this is who I am now. There’s no going back.”
I nodded, understanding. We all had things in our past we couldn’t change. Secrets we carried with us. As I sat there, sipping my tea and talking with Grim, my mind wandered to the secret I’d been carrying for so long. The truth about Elysia. Now, with my parents gone, I was the only one who knew...
Part of me wanted to tell Grim. To share this burden with someone else. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t just my secret to tell. It would change everything for Elysia, and I couldn’t do that to her. Not now, not ever.
Grim’s dark eye sockets seemed to bore into me as he leaned forward, his bony fingers tapping on the table.
“Millie,” he said, his voice low, “I think I know how the Poppets got that information about your mother.”
I wrapped my hands tighter around my mug, the warmth seeping into my palms. “How?”
“They’ve been digging into your mind,” Grim explained, his words sending a chill down my spine. “These creatures are more invasive than we thought. They can access your memories, your deepest thoughts.”
My stomach dropped. The idea of those things rifling through my head, seeing my most private moments made me feel sick.
“So, they know... everything?”
Grim nodded slowly. “Potentially. This makes them far more dangerous than we initially believed.”
I slumped back in my chair. It was too much. The deal with Ma-Vasha, the threat to Elysia, and now this invasion of my mind.
“This is horrible,” I whispered. “I don’t know how much more I can take. I should just end it now. It’s going to happen anyway.”
The words tumbled out before I could stop them, a moment of weakness I instantly regretted. Grim’s reaction was immediate and intense.
“Please don’t talk like that,” he said, his voice sharp with what sounded like genuine concern. It caught me off guard, hearing such emotion from the usually stoic Grim Reaper.
I looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his eye sockets. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... I just feel so overwhelmed.”
Grim reached across the table, his hand hesitating for a moment before gently resting on mine. His touch was cool and strange.
“I know this is difficult,” he said. “But you’re stronger than you realize, Millie. I’ve seen it. And you’re not alone in this.”
His words warmed something inside me – a tiny spark of hope in the darkness.