They call me Grim (COMPLETED)

Chapter 3: Hungry Hungry Reaper

I wasn't planning on it but I couldn't help but switch pov's. I'm going to do it quite a lot I've decided, switching between around three different people, but maybe one or two others. Just wanted to warn those people that might really hate when it jumps from person to person.

That's all.

Thanks for reading, please vote or comment and most importantly, enjoy.

(Dedicated to joannaValero for giving me my first vote) 

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Blake stared down at the papers in his hands and yawned. Goddess was he exhausted. When was the last time he'd slept? Last night, or maybe the night before?

He didn't know but it was long enough for even his bones to feel tired. He wanted to sleep, to fall into oblivion like everyone else on this world, but he hated sleeping. During the day it was easy to distract himself with duties and information, but night was different. When he closed his eyes his wolf punished him.

Every night, for ten years, he dreamed endlessly about Anya jumping. When he slept he relived the worst moments of his life. Him rejecting her and laughing with his friend, all the while regretting it with every fibre of his being. He saw himself distributing photos of her half naked, Mary snapping the photos in the locker room. Dozens of terrible things he'd done to her. Most often it was her jumping and him failing to save her.

Each time he would run to the railing. Sometimes he was simply too late as he had been in life, but other times Mary or David or even Eva grabbed him and dragged him back. The worst was when he ran towards her, reaching out to grab her hand, only to find that when he reached her she was so repulsed she pushed away, and into the river. Nothing ever stopped Anya from falling into the icy waters.

Blake sighed and buried his face in his hands. His head was throbbing and he wanted nothing more than to sleep without dreams. He thought about the sleeping meds he'd been prescribed but couldn't bring himself to take them. Constant nightmares and sleepless nights were just some of his many punishments.

He didn't realise he had slowly been falling asleep until the landline blared. He jumped up, causing his chair to flip over as he reached over for the ancient phone and answered it.

"Hello," he said groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes and trying to make his voice deep and powerful, not croaky and dazed like it was prone to do after he woke up.

"Hey."

Blake froze and slowly pulled his chair up and sat in it.

"What do you want Eva?" Blake asked coolly, knowing that soft girly voice anywhere. At twenty-eight she still managed to sound like a fourteen year old.

There was a rustling and the closing of a door, "I'm sorry to call, you know I wouldn't unless it was urgent."

Black gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his hair.

He'd seen her only yesterday. He wished the time span was longer in all honesty. Before that they hadn't spoken in a good five years, but it was the anniversary and the remaining three decided to pay their respects.

Once, a long time ago, he had the thought that their friendship would never repair itself and it was over, he'd been right.

The five friends he had his whole life, the earliest being six and the latest eleven, were no more. They broke off all contact and never spoke again.

Blake couldn't have been happy. He didn't want to see any of them.

Eva, she'd been a typical popular girl, a cheerleader and smart and beautiful. Blake once thought he loved the girl. She was gorgeous, long platinum hair and sparkling blue eyes, plump limps he'd once spent hours kissing and were always smiling. Behind that happy exterior she was simply mean. She wasn't clever but effective. During the Bet she'd spread rumours and turned the entire school against Anya.