Deathly Protection

Crimson Scarf

Reaper felt his soul break, his eyes fill with tears as he saw it... That blade was meant for him! He was suppose to have died! Not Xasilinta! Not his Night Flower!

The dark God gasped for breath as the heavy feeling of despair held him to the flowered floor.

His love, his light... It was taken from him again... And once again it was by a weapon he had owned... Why couldn't he be happy! Why must it be taken away from him!

The tears fell thickly as he looked at the murderer, their eyes showing shock, but happy glee.

"I was going to save him for last, but oh well~ You're turn now, Sans~" The beast purred, her twisted smile showing only hatred and madness.

The God said nothing, he did nothing as she walked over to him. The others were frozen in their spots, unable to move, unable to say a word.

Once again, the blade of Death was raised above her head, ready to end Death himself. She swung down, but it never made it.

A blur of red and white had grabbed the blade and bent the age old demon's arm to release it.

The stolen weapon dropped the ground as a harsh scream of pain and fear ended from the worst Chara of the Multiverse.

Her body was thrown across the room, the sound of bones cracking and breaking, echoing in hall.

All eyes went to the one that had saved Death, the one that bore the same crimson scarf that Reaper had long forgotten about in his closet; the one that held the smell of blood and death, yet wore white.

"Why you-" The demon didn't have time to move or say another word, not when her body became a pin cushion for sharp bone attacks.

The hall was silent, all staring at the unknown monster.

Slowly, he turned towards the skeleton they saved.

"Hi, Reaper..." They whispered, their one eye holding years of sorrow and guilt, even as they tried to smile.

"Geno."