Cheating death (nblm) ✔️

(4)

Grim woke up in the afterlife not quite knowing how to feel. Sure, they were a bit bummed out that Clay left but at the same time they couldn't help but feel guilty for even suggesting that the two were anything more than what they were. Friends. Thoughts continued to swim in Grim's mind, though, as they dressed and ate (solitary in their room courtesy of room service). And every now and then more thoughts would join, like a relay race.

'Why did I think there was more going on?

Was there?

Is there?

What's Clay thinking right now?

Why do I care what Clay thinks?

Why wouldn't I care?

What even is a crush?

Wait, when did I decide I had a crush?'

"You know what?" Grim slurred in outburst at their own reflection, "Who even is Clay?"

Grim turned away from the bathroom mirror, toothbrush still hanging out of their mouth and decided that today, Clay doesn't exist. They don't have to attempt the kill every day so today will be their first day off. A day to relax, admire the scenery, maybe bond with Dad.

Happy with their new mindset, they turned back, spat their toothpaste in the sink and gave their reflection a dashing smile.

"Today will be a good day."

They opened the door of their private quarters in the huge Reaper mansion and almost skipped down the ornate staircase, running their hand down the golden details that they always forget to admire. At the bottom of the stairs was a gaggle of servants, all lower class demons, discussing something in hushed tones. Grim assumed it was new work assignments until they heard a giggle. The puzzle pieces fell into place instantly. Someone had gossip.

"Gerome!" Grim called for their favourite valet. Startled, the group looked up at the young demon and suspiciously dispersed to separate corners of the house. Grim's excited face turned to bewilderment as they shot a questioning look at Gerome who looked similar to a rabbit in a box, or a sheep in a field with a fear of daises. In other words, they had never seen the young man look so desperate to leave.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and suggest that I wasn't supposed to see that gathering."

"No but that's only our fault-"

"And I'm going to assume that that gossip was about me?"

"I cannot say."

Grim continued down the stairs two at a time and stopped when they were the same height as their friend.

"Gerome I don't normally care what you do in your personal time but today I do, so please spill the tea because now I'm intrigued," Grim said with a grin on their face.

Gerome only shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Grim sighed and dismissed the valet with their head but before he could leave, a flustered maid rushed through the door.

"Your father wishes to see you in his office immediately."

Grim shot Gerome a knowing look of betrayal. So much for a good day.

The house was big. Spacious, you could say. Half of the house was living quarters for Grim, their father and the servants and the other half was reserved for the government or just general meetings. The house, being spacious, was generally a light, airy, free place to be with eggshell walls, gold accents and a sense of new beginning. Grim's fathers office did not match the vibe of the rest of the house. It was dark and dreary with one window and lots of yellow-tinted lights that lit up stern oil paintings of the many previous Grim Reapers (for a scale, Grim's full name is Grim Reaper the 107th, why they all have the exact same name, I don't know, I guess it's tradition). The office had forest green walls with charcoal grey accents and generally held an aura of decay and anxiety. No one liked being sent to the office, even if it was for a good reason. And Grim liked it even less, especially when they're following a very flustered maid with an overwhelming sense of urgency.

"Did he tell you what this is about?" Grim huffed, the dread tiptoeing up their back.

The maid failed to stifle a laugh, "with all due respect, take a wild guess. It doesn't take a genius."

The rest of the almost-run to the office was done in silence.

Finally, they reached the tall, raven-coloured double doors and Grim was encouraged to go inside alone. So they took a deep breath and pushed.

Their father was staring out of the solitary window and waited for the door to close to begin speaking.

"I thought I taught you to knock."

"Oh. Sorry. I can come in again if you like. You know, practice."

Reaper turned around angrily, "I have had enough of your attitude, Grim! Sit down."

Grim did.

"I know you're not stupid, no matter how long I debate it for. So I can't begin to understand why you continue to torcher me and put this family to shame. One job Grim! One! Just kill a human! Until you do that you will never be considered to rule the afterlife. Failure to do that leads to death. You know these things and yet you continue to defy me and the law!"

Reaper turned away from his child, composing himself back to his natural state of monotone and then returned to the conversation.

"I understand you have a somewhat friendly relationship with the boy you've been tasked to kill?"

"Somewhat," Grim looked down.

"You are aware that having any relationships with humans goes against our laws. Correct?"

"Correct, father."

"So, kill him," Reaper ordered coldly.

"But I-"

"Don't talk back to me Grim!" he shouted and then composed again. "Kill the boy... or I will kill both of you."

Grim scoffed but stopped when they saw no bluff in their father's eyes. It was suddenly clear to Grim what this mission meant. What it really meant. It was suddenly clear that Clay was going to die either way. Grim could make it quick, they reasoned, and they could ensure their own survival. But could they ever... kill... Clay? It hurt to realise that at the end of the day, they had no choice.

"I-"

I am evil, I know. I can't spoil anything but this is a warning: tissues are required from this point on.