Chapter Twenty – Millie
Chapter Twenty
Millie
The world around me shifted and blurred as we materialized in front of a massive door. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before – dark and imposing, adorned with countless jewels that sparkled in an unseen light. The door looked like it belonged in a museum, not... wherever we were.
I blinked, trying to take in my surroundings. We stood in what seemed to be an endless hallway, stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions. The walls were a swirling mix of shadows and light, constantly moving and changing. It made my head spin just looking at it. The air felt thick and heavy, like it was pressing down on me from all sides. Every breath I took felt wrong, as if my lungs were rejecting the very atmosphere of this place. My skin crawled with an unsettling sensation, like I was trespassing somewhere I didn’t belong. My mind raced, struggling to process the things around me. It reminded me of that one time in college when I gave in to peer pressure and tried magic mushrooms. The world had warped and twisted then, just like it was doing now. But this was so much more intense, more real. I felt overwhelmed, my brain buzzing with information it couldn’t quite comprehend. The jewels on the door seemed to whisper secrets, their facets reflecting images I couldn’t quite grasp. The floor beneath my feet felt both solid and insubstantial at the same time.
“Millie?” Grim’s voice cut through the fog in my mind. “Are you okay?”
I turned to look at him. “I’m not sure I can do this. I feel like I’m about to faint.”
Grim pulled me into his arms. His embrace was cool and comforting, and it helped settle my thoughts and my erratic heartbeat.
“I swear to you, Millie,” he said softly, “I will protect you. I’ll take you back home safely. You have my word.”
I looked up into the dark pits where his eyes should have been. “I trust you.”
A deep, rumbling sound filled the air and made the floor under our feet shake. The massive door before us began to open, swinging inward with a slow movement. Grim took my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Hand in hand, we stepped forward, crossing the threshold into Death’s office.
I felt my breath catch in my throat. The room was enormous, stretching out before us like some grand ballroom from a fairy tale. But this was no fairy tale – it was something far more ancient and powerful.
The walls were lined with the most exquisite wood paneling I’d ever seen. Every inch was covered in intricate carvings – scenes of life and death, joy and sorrow, all intertwined in a never-ending dance. Precious gems and metals were inlaid throughout, catching what little light there was and throwing it back in dazzling sparkles.
My eyes were drawn to two tall windows on the far wall. I expected to see daylight streaming through – given it had been almost midday when we left – but instead, I found myself staring into a vast, dark void. It was like looking into the deepest reaches of space, but without the comforting presence of stars. As I watched, tiny pinpricks of light would occasionally flicker into existence, only to fade away moments later. Each one felt like a life – briefly shining before being extinguished. The sight made my head spin. I squeezed Grim’s hand tighter, grateful for his solid presence beside me. Without him, I might’ve convinced myself this was all a hallucination. But Grim was real, and his hand in mine kept me grounded in reality – no matter how strange that reality might’ve been.
A massive desk dominated the center of the room. It was crafted from the same richly carved wood as the walls, its surface inlaid with more gemstones than I could count. Stacks of papers and books covered most of it, giving the impression of organized chaos. Behind it sat a figure, hunched over a thick book. As we approached, they raised a hand, beckoning us closer. My heart raced, realizing this must be the Breathless – Death themselves.
When they lifted their head, I felt my knees go weak. The room spun, and for a moment, I was certain I was going to faint. Somehow, I managed to stay upright, but my stomach churned with nausea. The being before me radiated power, an energy so intense it made the air feel heavy. I tried to focus on their face, but it was like trying to look at a mirage. One second, I saw delicate feminine features, and the next, a strong masculine jawline. The constant shift was dizzying. Even their clothes seemed to defy reality. A long dress covered every inch of their body, with a veil obscuring their head. But as I watched, the fabric flickered between deepest black and purest white, never settling on one color. I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision, but it didn’t help. The constant changes made my head throb and my stomach lurch.
Death’s shifting gaze settled on us, their voice echoing through the room. “Ansel Sullivan, I was informed you wanted to speak to me. I must admit that at first, I didn’t want to see you. You have disappointed me. How long since you reaped a soul? A year?”
I blinked, confused. Ansel Sullivan? Who was that? I glanced at Grim, expecting him to be equally puzzled, but he stood tall, his skeletal frame rigid.
“Yes,” Grim replied. “It’s been about a year.”
My mind reeled. Ansel Sullivan was Grim? Of course, I realized. How silly of me. Of course he had a name. He’d been human once. The thought made my chest tighten. There was still so much I didn’t know about him.
Grim continued, “I needed a break.”
Death’s form flickered, their expression unreadable. “Grim Reapers don’t take breaks. There’s no such thing as taking a vacation.”
I held my breath, waiting for Death’s anger, but Grim seemed unfazed. “I know,” he said. “Will I be punished?”
To my surprise, Death’s ever-changing features softened. They sighed. “I understand this job is hard, Ansel. No, you will not be punished. You were punished enough as a mortal. I am not in the business of punishing anyone.”
Relief flooded through me, and I felt some of the tension leave Grim’s body beside me.
Death’s gaze flickered between us. “All right, Ansel, tell me what you need.”
Grim straightened, his voice steady as he explained. “Millie has made a deal with Ma-Vasha: her soul in exchange for saving her sister’s life.”
Before he could continue, Death raised a hand, silencing him. Their gaze turned to me, and I felt pinned in place by the weight of their attention.
“You wanted to save your sister’s life,” Death said, their voice neither accusatory nor sympathetic. “What is her name?”
I swallowed hard, barely finding my voice. “Elysia.”
Death nodded, the movement causing their form to ripple like water. “And how do you feel about lying to this man who would do anything for you?”
The words hit me hard. I felt the color drain from my face, my heart pounding so wildly I was sure Death could hear it. I wanted the floor to open and swallow me whole. How did they know? What was I supposed to say?
Beside me, Grim tensed up again. “What’s going on?”
Death’s gaze never left me. “I might be able to help you, Camellia, but if there’s one thing that I cannot stand is to have lies uttered in my office. The Halls of Death are a place of truth.”
I nodded, shame burning in my chest. “I understand. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I turned to Grim, my heart breaking at the look of confusion on his eyeless face. I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn’t put this off any longer. “Elysia is not my sister,” I said. “She is my daughter.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with eight years of secrets and guilt. I’d never said it out loud before, not since the day my parents and I decided on our elaborate lie.
“I gave birth to her when I was eighteen,” I continued. I owed Grim the whole story. “I was young and stupid, and thought I was in love. When I found out I was pregnant, I told my boyfriend, thinking we’d face it together. He dumped me on the spot, said he wasn’t ready to be a father, and that I should… take care of it. My parents were so understanding. They supported me through everything. When Elysia was born, they adopted her as their own.” The memories flooded back – the paperwork, the quiet conversations late at night, the carefully constructed story we’d tell the world. “They wanted me to finish school, go to college, and have a normal life. We decided it would be easier if everyone thought she was my sister.”
I fell silent, the weight of my confession hanging between us. Grim didn’t move, didn’t say a word. I couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was angry, or hurt, or both. The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity.
“Grim?” I finally asked, my voice small and scared. “Please say something.”
He turned to me slowly, his dark eye sockets seeming to bore into my soul. I held my breath, terrified that I’d ruined everything between us. What if he hated me now? What if he thought I was a terrible person for lying about my own child?
Before Grim could respond, Death’s voice cut through the tension. “Camellia, wait outside. I need to speak with Ansel alone.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Death’s unwavering gaze made it clear this wasn’t a request. With a last, desperate look at Grim, I turned and walked towards the massive door, my steps echoing in the quiet room.