Grian oneshots

Messenger of Death

The messenger of death, a feared name. Some say if you look into his red eyes you'll die on the spot. Some people draw art of their imagination. No one alive knows what he looks like, for obvious reasons. All they know is to be scared, scared of death. An unknown fact about the messenger of death is that he lives amongst the common Minecrafters. If you were to look at him you wouldn't know it was him. Not like anyone would suspect him to be the messenger of death anyways. He lived on the most friendly server there could be Hermitcraft of course he still fulfilled his duty. The messenger of death and the angel of death were infamous for working together. While the messenger collected the souls to bring it to Lady death, the angel of death caused the death, depending on how you behaved in your life you'd either get a painful or peaceful death.

Grian was the opposite of what people thought of the messenger of death. His hair was gold-brown instead of raven black. He wasn't pale, but rather tan due to always building in the bright sun. He was rather short, unlike the 8ft giant everyone believed him to be. His warm brown eyes were friendly not dangerous red. He always wore a bright red sweater, not a black suit. Overall he seemed like a pretty friendly guy, and he was.

The story takes place at the beginning of season 6. Grian was fitting in quite well with his fellow hermits. He had adjusted well to the new environment, some hermits trusting him more than others. He had decided to keep his secret of being the messenger of death a secret. The last time he told someone he had to escape from creatures named watchers, most of his friends dying in the destruction. Let's just say it was painful to collect their souls. This was a new start, a clean fresh beginning.

I was relaxing in my small starter base when my alarm went off. Confused I looked at the time realizing it was the death alarm, as menacing as it sounds it's really just an alarm telling me of new deaths. I grabbed my soul bottles used for storing the souls before giving them to lady Kristin, my bag, and my notebook and pen to write down the death. It was approximately 6 p.m. when I headed for the hub portal. I heard someone call for me but decided to ignore it. I landed right in front of the portal and walked through it. I landed in the famous server Hypixel. Hypixel was usually death-free due to their system of respawning, but occasionally a player gets their hands on a perma-death weapon and starts stabbing shiz. The player is usually stopped before any real chaos can happen. Sometimes though it'll lead to a massacre. I shuddered at the thought of it. So much work had to be done because of that one time.

I walked through the crowd not getting distracted by anything or anyone. At last, I reached my goal. In a small shop, the shop owner was laying on the floor in a puddle of blood. Phil was already there inspecting the body. "Hi, Phil! Do you know who did it this time?" Phil nodded, "Yea, some snob from Skyblock found one of the discarded weapons from one of the weapon chambers." Using my magic I carefully extracted the soul from the body, it was a purple color it whizzed around as if it was scared. I hated when this happened, this soul should have lived at least another 60 years. I identified the soul as a player named amethyst_skylard. I put the scared and confused soul in one of the containers. Carefully placing it in his bag I walked out of the shop into the broad daylight. I squinted his eyes as I looked into the sun. I scanned the ground for any sorts of magical signs. When I noticed a red glow emitting from one of the sheathed swords. The player was walking rather quickly, almost as if they were running away from something and trying to not look suspicious.

I silently followed him into an abandoned building. The player went into a room and sat down letting out a deep breath. "Florence_donawitch you are hereby sentenced to death because of the use of a permanent-kill weapon." I said in a monotone voice. Florence whipped around. He laughed as he saw me,"And who are you? Some mod in training? Ha come and try to kill me." He taunted. I shook my head and smirked, oh I'm not here to kill you, that's his job," I pointed at Phil who was stood behind the unsuspecting murderer. Before he could even act Phil had cut of his head.