The Original Reaper | Assassination Classroom |

-Chapter 1- | My Fair Lady |

~London 1:30 AM~

 A tall, shadowy form wound its way through the dark maze of streets. It passed many of England's sleeping homeless as silently as a warm spring breeze, his feet lightly skimmed the ground as if he was simply floating above it, barely stirring the golden autumn leaves on the stone-tiled ground beneath him.

The buildings rose up into the sky, making the many walls and alleyways one would need to pass through in order to reach their destination, wherever it might be.

The cold night froze the water on the ground as frost crept up the closed windowsills, trying to reach into the warm confines of people's small but comfortable homes. The shadowy figure briefly stepped out of an alleyway and into the pale light of a lone street lamp. It was a tall man wearing a black suit with a crimson rose in the lapel, the moonlight reflected off of his polished black shoes with a bow tie of the same color resting on his crisp white collar. His raven hair hanging low over his ink-black eyes, his dark clothing and hair making a sharp contrast to his pale skin. The a stood under the light for but a moment before he quickly passed through and disappeared into the shadows once again.

If you looked closely you might catch a brief shimmering glimpse of him as he leaped from building to building, the crescent-shaped moon shining down on the mysterious figure and the slumbering city of London. He traveled swiftly through the streets as if he had a known destination. After running a distance that would make anybody in their right mind give up the chase he suddenly slowed and stopped in front of an elegant looking mansion. He stood still and silent upon the entry porch, the place a guest would normally be welcomed into the foyer by a butler or maid before seeing who they had come for. But this was no ordinary guest although many would later come to wish it had been...

The man's tall dark form suddenly disappeared then moments later came back into view on a story high railing of a large stone balcony. He stood there gracefully, his long bangs still partially covering his face. A small smile twisted his previous stern expression. It only took him a second to make his way inside through the tall double glass doors. Upon entering the darkroom with a tall dresser in the corner, and a high poster bed pushed up against the wall it became clear it was a bedroom. There was a slender figure under the heavy blankets and plush pillows, the man slowly made his way towards the form hidden under the protective covers. 

Upon closer inspection it became clear that it was a girl around marrying age, she had blond hair and undoubtedly pale blue eyes, her skin was kissed with a light tan and her plump lips were a rosy pink.

The man looked down at the girl with cold black eyes as he slowly but without hesitation slipped a small blade from the sleeve of his dark suit. Just moments later the blade made its descent and the girls' sleep was made eternal without so much a cry...

The moonlight streamed in from the tall glass door as the rose fluttered to the ground, landing gently upon the growing red stain of the previously pristine white linens.

The tall man dressed in black looked down at the now-dead girl for but a moment, a merciless look in his ink colored eyes before he stepped back into the waiting shadows of the still silent room. 

The next morning the large mansion would be awoken to the shrill, echoing scream of those who had cared for the girl, and the hearts of many would ache as a slow fear and sorrow would spread across the great city of London. All the result of one man and his bloody blade...

The tall man dressed in black once more made his way back through the narrow cramped streets of London, as he made his way a soft tune floated toward his sensitive ears in the cold night air, it was the voice of a young girl awake long past her bedtime. The tall man stopped and looked back at the mansion, his lips parting as four, simple words fell through his pale lips.

"Sleep easy little one" he whispered quietly, the cold breeze carrying his soft words upon it graciously. He brushed his bangs further across his face over his empty black eyes before he slipped back into the dark shadows embrace, back from whence he came.

The simple, but haunting tune from the child's lips resonating in the cold winter air. 

"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down, My Fair Lady..."

Fear not the name of the Reaper...