C'thelli's Demonic Orphanage (Completed and Editing)

25

Throughout the realms of existence, there existed three rulers. God had the fun gig and ruled over Heaven and Earth. Satan led the Underworld until he was non-consensually overthrown by Lucifer. But then there was the final realm, a place where all spirits went upon death until they were processed and sent elsewhere, and like the others it too had a ruler, Grim the current Lord reaper of Purgatory.

Feimo had never met him in person. Even when Heaven's gates opened and the angels wrecked face during the war. His army of clerks and interns were the usual liaisons of the macabre cycle. So to say he was surprised to find himself face to skull with the boss man himself would have been the greatest understatement of the century. Why was he here now?

"So, you're the putz I assigned to 'Thelli, ey? At least you know how to keep things interesting." For a skeleton without a shred of muscle or internal organs working him, his voice belched out of his jaw like a canon, loud, grating, and explosive. In fact, everything about him struck him as unordinary. From his lack of a scythe in his hand, to the fact that his mobility relied on an on a wooden wheel chair. Even the way he carried himself was nowhere close to the daunting legends of old, "Churchill, move me to the left, no your left, dingbat," the shrill bark directed the strangest thing of all.

The oversized worm stank of soil and rot as a long red tongue hung out of the thin slit of it's mouth. It panted as it pulled on the chain on its collar and swivelled the reaper around until they faced head-on. It was then that the demon realised. The only thing that resembled his mythical counterpart was his long flowing robe that sucked in the drab colours around them.

"Who is that?" Robin asked from behind Feimo's hip. 

At the sound of the girl's squeak, Grim let out a bellow of laughter, "Don't worry, Robin, you'll get to know me better at three O'clock on Friday the -"

"Hey, zip it! This is the one day we don't want to talk about death, thank you very much!" Feimo interjected with his hands firmly clasped over the witch's ears.

"Ah, want to keep it a surprise, ey? I can respect that. You know who doesn't like surprises though? God. You know that old miser threw a strop when he asked me to clue him in on when he kicks it. He even made me take the stairs back down, I mean look at me!" As if the reason wasn't obvious, he threw his hands in the air. Each little bone within his hands and wrists popped with the effort whilst Churchill slithered off to sniff the area in boredom.

"Speaking of which, I really need to remember when the inventor of the elevator croaks. He'll get the fast past to heaven, mark my words."

"What?" Neither the demon nor the witch could keep track of the Reaper's mumblings.

"Never mind! You young'uns have no attention span these days." 

"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to come after it happens?" Feimo asked with a grimace, earning a chuckle from the agent of death.

"Yep. But I'm not here for you... Yet! Nah I'm just pulling your leg since mine don't work. I've been keeping tabs on you and well, I see you're in a bit of a jam."

"I can handle it." He objected with an indignant cross of his arms.

"After ten minutes of uhmming and urhing, and an extra five faffing, sure! But I've got a schedule to keep, and as much as this God's stingy with his sacrifices, at least he's giving me something. Plus C'thelli wouldn't forgive me if one of her tots got dunked on early." For but a moment, the skeleton's voice softened into silence, and as if listening to the discussion Churchill let out a low whine in agreement.

But like the weather, the wind returned to his sails and he reanimated with life, "So, let me give you this hint for free. Open the door."

"What?" The demon asked dumbly.