Chapter Thirty-Five – Grim
Chapter Thirty-Five
Grim
I sat in the ridiculous pink armchair, which was almost too small for my frame, watching Millie and her sister sleep peacefully. Lady Mews was curled up between them, her furry body rising and falling with each breath. The sight made my chest ache, a feeling I couldn’t quite name. The scene before me… it was like something out of a dream. I looked down at my hands, remembering how they felt when I held the book earlier. The Neverending Story. What a fitting title for this moment. I wanted it to go on forever… this warmth, this sense of belonging.
But did I really belong here? The question nagged at me, refusing to let go. I was a Grim Reaper, for crying out loud! My job was to guide souls to the afterlife, not read bedtime stories to little girls. And yet, here I was, doing exactly that. I thought back to my life before all this. The war, the pain, the loneliness. Then the centuries of reaping souls, seeing the worst of humanity over and over again. It had made me hard, cynical. I’d given up on the idea of happiness, of love. But then Millie came along. Stubborn, brave, beautiful Millie. She’d turned my world upside down, made me feel things I thought were long dead. And now here I was, in her home, part of her family.
I looked at Elysia, her face peaceful in sleep. She trusted me, a skeleton in a cloak, to keep her safe. To read her stories and chase away her nightmares. It was a responsibility I never thought I’d have, but one I found myself wanting more than anything. And Millie... My gaze shifted to her sleeping form. She’d said she loved me. Me, a creature of death and darkness. She wanted me in her life, in her future. The thought made my non-existent heart race. This life they were offering me… it was everything I’d ever wanted but never dared to dream of. A family, a home, love. It seemed too good to be true. Part of me was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for it all to be taken away. But another part, a part that was growing stronger by the minute, wanted to grab onto this chance with both hands and never let go. To hell with being a reaper. To hell with my past. I wanted this. I wanted them.
I imagined waking up every morning to Millie’s smile. Having breakfast with her and Elysia, helping with homework, going on family outings. Normal, everyday things that I’d never experienced before. The idea of it filled me with a warmth I couldn’t begin to describe. But could I really have this? Could I, a creature of death, truly be part of a living, breathing family? The doubt crept in, cold and familiar. I’d seen too much, done too much. Maybe I didn’t deserve this happiness. And yet... Millie and Elysia didn’t seem to care about what I was. They saw past the bones and the darkness. They saw me. Just me. The thought made me feel oddly vulnerable, but in a good way.
I stood up and took a step towards the bed, drinking in the sight of them. This was what I wanted to protect. This was what I wanted to come home to every day. I loved them. Both of them. And I wanted to be part of their lives, no matter what.
Just as I was about to reach out and touch Millie’s hand, a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned, my hand automatically reaching for my scythe. In the darkest corner of the room, a figure appeared. I recognized it immediately as one of Death’s messengers. These creatures were a strange mix of human and animal, their bodies twisted and unnatural. This one wore a heavy cloak that hid most of its features, but I could see glimpses of fur and scales peeking out from under the fabric.
“Reaper,” it hissed. “The Breathless summons you.”
I felt my good mood evaporate. Of course. Just when I was starting to believe I could have this life, duty called. Typical.
“Now?” I asked, keeping my voice low to avoid waking Millie and Elysia.
The messenger nodded, its misshapen head bobbing unnaturally. “Immediately.”
I sighed. I looked back at Millie and Elysia, still sleeping peacefully. They had no idea what was happening just a few feet away from them.
“Fine,” I said, turning back to the messenger. “I’ll be there.”
The creature vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving me alone once again. I grabbed my scythe, the weight of it in my hand a reminder of who and what I was. I took one last look at Millie and Elysia.
“I’ll be back,” I whispered, even though I knew they couldn’t hear me. “I promise.”
With a heavy heart, I focused on the Halls of Death. In the blink of an eye, Elysia’s cozy bedroom disappeared, replaced by the cold, dark corridors I knew so well.
I stepped into Death’s office. The room was vast, its boundaries shifting and unclear, much like Death themselves. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I noticed we weren’t alone. The Fates, the three sisters who controlled the threads of life, were here, too. They stood in a semicircle around Death’s desk, their ageless faces turned towards me as I entered. Great. Just what I needed – an audience for whatever was about to happen.
Death sat behind their imposing desk, their form constantly shifting like smoke in a breeze. When they spoke, their voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
“Ah, Ansel. Thank you for coming so promptly.”
I nodded, trying to keep my face neutral. “Not like I had much choice in the matter.”
The First Sister, the one who spun the threads of life, stepped forward. Her movements were fluid, almost dance-like, and her long silver hair swayed with each step. Her eyes were bright, almost mischievous, as she regarded me.
“We’ve been waiting for you, reaper. Or should I say, hero?”
I would’ve raised an eyebrow had I still had them. Instead, I tilted my head slightly, my eye sockets narrowing.
“Hero? That’s a new one. Usually, I’m the villain in people’s stories.”
She laughed. “Oh, but you are! You and that lovely girlfriend of yours. You’ve done something truly remarkable.”
I shifted my weight, feeling uncomfortable under her piercing gaze. My cloak rustled softly with the movement.
“Care to elaborate?” I asked.
The First Sister’s smile widened, revealing teeth that were just a bit too sharp. She clasped her hands together in front of her, practically vibrating with excitement.
“You’ve fulfilled a prophecy, my dear! One we’ve been waiting on for quite some time. Ma-Vasha finally got what she deserved, and it’s all thanks to you two. Well, and that cat, of course. She did a marvelous job.”
“I... We didn’t know,” I said, feeling a bit off-balance. “We were just trying to survive.”
The Breathless cleared their throat. “Be that as it may, Ansel, it’s time for you to return to your reaping duties. Your work with Monster Security Agency, while admirable, is not necessary in the slightest. You don’t need the money, after all.”
“It was never about the money,” I said. “I donate every cent. It’s not like I have expenses. No food, no fancy clothes, not even a house to call my own, since I travel all the time, all over the world.”
“Then why?”
I sighed, feeling the weight of centuries on my shoulders. My cloak seemed to grow heavier, pulling me down. I looked around the room, at the timeless faces watching me, and felt suddenly very old and very tired.
“Because I needed something else. Something that wasn’t just about ending lives. Don’t get me wrong, I know death is natural. But it’s a heavy burden to bear, day in and day out. It was wearing me down, making me lose faith in... well, everything.”
The Second Sister, who measured the threads of life, nodded sympathetically. She stepped forward. In her hands, she held a golden measuring rod, which she tapped thoughtfully against her palm.
“We understand, Ansel. Truly, we do. But we need you back. Your skills are invaluable.”
I looked at each of them in turn, these beings who held so much power over life and death. They needed me. It was a strange feeling, being needed by such cosmic forces. I shifted my weight again, considering my options. I guessed it was easier to get me back on their side than making a new reaper and training them to do my job.
“I can do both,” I said. “I can reap and still work for the MSA. It’s not like I need sleep, after all.”
Death’s form rippled. The movement sent shadows dancing across the walls of the office. When they spoke, their voice was softer than before, almost gentle.
“Can you, though? Now that you have a family?”
A family. The thought filled me with warmth, but also with a deep, primal fear. I could feel the eyes of the Fates on me, watching my reaction.
“Am I... Am I allowed to have a family?” I asked, hating how vulnerable I sounded. My voice cracked on the word ‘family’, betraying my emotions.
To my surprise, it was the Third Sister, the one who cut the threads of life, who answered.
“Of course you are, Ansel. You’ve earned this chance. You should take it.”
I was stunned. My scythe slipped from my grasp, clattering loudly on the floor. The sound echoed through the room, but I barely noticed. A family. Things I’d never dared to dream of, suddenly within my grasp, and I had the blessing of the Fates and the Breathless themselves.
“I... Thank you,” I managed to say. I bent down to retrieve my scythe, using the moment to compose myself. When I straightened, I met Death’s gaze squarely. “I’ll do my best.”