I Am Tabitha Bleu

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Tabitha

      A loud knock brought Tabitha to reality, her eyes opening. They were heavy, and she was exhausted as always. Even when she slept, she felt as though it only provided her with approximately five minutes worth of energy. It didn’t matter though. She had a job to do. When the sun went down, her day started.

     The knock occurred once more, louder than before. She blinked, sitting up and looking at the door. The knock was familiar, clearly the knock of Reaper Inc.’s doctor. A sigh left Tabitha’s lips. She had nothing against Doctor Prescott, really she didn’t. He was kind hearted and intelligent. But he was just too much of a nervous wreck for her to handle so soon after waking up and still have a semi - pleasant night.

     “Tabitha? Tabitha, I heard you were injured last night! You didn’t come to the infirmary,” rushed Prescott, opening the door despite Tabitha never giving permission. Not that it mattered. Prescott had seen Tabitha nude numerous times in the years that Tabitha had been working for Grimm, so if he walked in and she were stark naked, it wouldn’t phase either of them. At least, that’s what she thought, so she couldn’t speak for Prescott.

     “I’m fine, Prescott. You worry too much,” Tabitha replied monotonously, her eyes holding bags of purple. She looked extremely exhausted, and exhausted she was. She seen Prescott’s brown eyes soften for a moment before they hardened once more. She knew that look. It was his stern look, the one he used when she brushed off a major injury, like the incident when she was thirteen and it was her first hunt.

     “I have to worry too much to make up for your absolute recklessness! You’re going to wind up in a state that I can’t bring you back from and you know it! Tabitha,” Prescott paused to release a heavy sigh, “I — we — care about you. So don’t go dying on us, Okay?”

     “Yeah, okay, whatever,” Tabitha replied with a roll of her eyes and her arms crossing over her white nightshirt. The man in the doorway gave her a look of exasperation before throwing his hands up and turning to walk out of the threshold. He paused, turning his head to look at her from over his shoulder.

     “Grimm wants to see you. Something about a partner and an assignment.”

     “So he really is my liability, now.”

     “He?” For some reason, Prescott sounded angry. Tabitha couldn’t fathom why he would feel such a way. Perhaps he felt the same way about partners being a liability? She had looked down at her lap absentmindedly, so when her eyes returned to the door, she was slightly surprised to see he had disappeared.

     Getting out of bed, she didn’t bother to stretch. Why should she? She was unable to feel physical discomfort anyway. After walking over to her closet, she chose generic clothes, something along the lines of what she always wore. Ripped jeans adorned her legs, and a black shirt sat upon her torso. Her feet were clad in black leather combat boots, and her long hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail. Perfectly plain. Now for the fun part of seeing her new nuisance Mason.

     Her footsteps echoed in the empty halls, the boots causing heavy thuds. Mainly because she didn’t care to walk quietly, as stealth was only necessary on a hunt. She soon found herself in front of Grimm’s door once again, her hand following the same motions as always… but this time, she hesitated. Would Mason be behind the door? Would Grimm treat her like a child in front of him?

     She shook her head. What the point in questioning such things? Her hand pushed the handle, forcing the mechanism that held the heavy door in place to withdraw and the door to open. The familiar sight of Grimm’s office, barren of life aside from himself, invaded her vision, though she wasn’t planning to complain. Her feet carried her inside, sitting before the ever waiting Grimm Reaper.

     “You’ve been assigned a partner—”

     “I’ve been assigned a hindrance named Mason King.”

      Silence followed the statement before Grimm’s voice severed the stillness.

     “Who is that?”