Death has come to collect its dues and so, Hajime Hinata dies. He gets transported to the Afterlife and is sentenced to Hell for his crimes as a Mafia Lord. But how can he possibly fulfill his five-year sentence when his mentor, the Grim Reaper, is...
The Grim Reaper was a boy the age of sixteen with skin as pale as death itself and gray eyes that seemed to be clouded over with an emotion no one could understand. His hair was a creamy white with hints of light gray, which descended around his face in waves.
The Reaper's soft grayish green eyes looked to a brunet who was currently filing papers of some sort. For some reason, the Reaper had been fascinated by this mortal and did anything to keep him AWAY from death. It was pretty ironic, though, since it was his job to reap the souls of the dead and send them to the Afterlife.
He didn't want this brunet to die. There was something about him that made the albino wish that he'd live forever.
The albino propped up his head on his right knee as his eyes continued to gaze at the busy brunet.
It wasn't like the brunet could see him anyways. Foolish mortals like him couldn't see the messenger of death.
Then, gunshots.
Ah yes. The Grim Reaper always looked forward to this moment of the day when someone would stupidly launch a surprise attack in the estate of the brunet.
He knew that no one could defeat this man, and whoever challenged his position would pay dearly for it.
Now he had to play his cards right. In order to keep the man alive, he had to make the necessary precautions of not getting caught in the act of trying to save someone's life.
Bullets tore through the wooden door, embedding themselves into the white wall behind the man in the suit.
Miss, miss, miss, miss, miss.
The Reaper spoke to himself as he quietly brushed the bullets out of the way for the brunet using his eyes.
The brown-haired man returned fire, shooting his attacker square in the forehead, killing him.
Blood flew around, staining the white walls red.
The tanned boy showed no emotion as he gripped the gun in his hands, killing every one of his rivals.
The Grim Reaper didn't really admire the brunet's feature of not caring a bit about death.
Death was a sensitive thing, and if the brunet had no reaction towards it when he killed someone, or when someone lost their life, it would mean that he lost all hope in this world.
The Grim Reaper frowned. He needed to change that. He wanted to see this boy's eyes glimmer with hope.
Alas, he wasn't allowed to tamper with the living. Minor readjustments were fine if he didn't get caught, but major impacts (taking or saving a life) were absolutely prohibited.
The albino adjusted his glasses that were resting on his nose as he watched the last bullet sail through the air.
Hit.
Blood gushed out of the brunet's wound, red blossoming on his tux.
The Reaper had no other choice. It would be too much of an impact in the living world if he let the brunet go away unharmed.
Men in black rushed around the injured man, trying to stop the blood with pressure.
The Reaper sighed.
His job was done here. There was nothing left for him to do.
Anyway, he needed to drop off the souls he collected today to the Afterlife.
He swung his scythe over his shoulder and took off, leaving the living behind.
~
Pitiful wails of agony flew through the albino's ears, disgusting him.
Why did he choose to come to Hell first? He could have dropped off the pure souls at Heaven first, but no. He had to come here. Sometimes he wondered if he was mentally stable or not.
"Heyyyyy." A voice cooed at the end of the hallway.
"Your majesty," The Grim Reaper bowed at a blonde lady with two pigtails.
The Queen of Hell was wearing a gradient black to red dress, her ruby red wings tucked comfortably behind her back as she sat upon her throne.
Her black and red crown with horns hovered an inch above her head, a symbol of royalty in the Underworld.
"How many souls have you brought to me today my faithful servant?" She asked in a venomous voice.
"Fourteen, my Queen. Their souls tainted with much despair, as you like it." The albino spoke while still in a bowing position.
"Alright then, send them to me." She beckoned with one shiny red nail.
With a large, graceful sweep of his silver scythe, transparent souls flew out of the weapon, kneeling on the ground with chains around their necks.
"Ooooh. Such fine specimen!" The Queen giggled gleefully while clapping her hands in joy.
"You can leave now. Thank you for such a great haul!"
The Reaper dipped his head at his Queen and prepared to leave the throne room to deliver the rest of his souls to Heaven.
"Wait."
He froze.
"Yes? My Queen?"
The blonde smirked deviously.
"I saw you studying a particular mortal in the living world." She played with her black and white nails. "I want his soul. Give him to me. It's about time he died anyway. His soul is so tainted, it makes me shiver with excitement!" She drooled.
"W-what?"
The Queen smirked.
"You don't have feelings for a simple mortal... Or do you?" She laughed. "Give me his soul, or you'll have an eternity to pay for not executing my order. Got that?" Her gray eyes hardened into a glare.
The albino dipped into a bow.
"If that is what you wish... Your Majesty." _____________________________________________
This is the Queen of Hell's outfit.
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