Ginji

Midland square

~ Leviathan ~

It's time to put an end to this whole sordid business and escort the young lord back home. Finally I can leave this place. I thought Hell had its bad points, but Earth is a disgusting place, no matter what time period you happen to land in.

Reapers often cross from Hell to the living realm to bring back souls who have lingered on and because Hell has no concept of time, it's an endless and tedious job, thankfully it's not mine.

Reapers can see the souls of the dead and sometimes humans get a glimpse as well They call them ghosts or spirits, which I guess is right enough.

I was born and raised in Hell, why I was ever ordered through the damn portal to begin with is a damn mystery to me. Then again, I am not that bright. My brother was the clever one, another bastard child just like Dark. I recall the day when news was brought to us of his death, how my parents wept tears of joy. He was, after all, my father's greatest sin and for a man on the council it did him no good to have a bastard child.

"Grimmaw, how long must we wait for this little shit to arrive? You sent word to him, right?" We stand atop Midland square, the breeze wafting through my great grey twin beard that had been braided together; I only had to regrow it once. My family believes that beards reflect our strength and if ever we lose in battle and live, we are to cut it off. The same is said of our hair, but I'm as bald as a cucumber and shiny like one too.

Every time I run my hand down it in a stroking motion, I recall the man who left me blooded and battered. Azazel, I curse you with every waking breath. One day I will mount your head upon my castle or barrack walls for all of Hell to see. No, in fact I shall send you to the darkest depths of Solace to be tortured for an eternity where you will die over and over. Ah! The very thought pleases me.

"Word from reception was that he was on his way. The elevator does take quite some time to reach the roof, after all it is long way up, sire." Grimmaw bows his head. Guess there's nothing to do about it. I sit down to wait.

I'm not one for sentimental stuff, or even one to admire the beauty of nature, but I do like the Midland square rooftop with its many square gardens of grass, rose bushes, and cherry blossom trees. It reminds me of Mother's garden. Tilting back my head, I gaze up into the sky. I picture the clouds ablaze, burning as ash bellows down, just how I like it.

A year on Earth has been too much to bear, especially as I was given orders to reign in my destructiveness. Guess that's why they gave me a hundred men like Grimmaw. The council had yammered on at me about how I had to be discrete whilst I was on Earth as I could throw out the whole balance of time, yada, yada, yada. Don't send a prince of destruction to do something as delicate as this crappy mission.

A ping sounds in the distance, the noise the elevator often makes .I can't ride in one myself. They are too darn small to hold my weight; the last time I tried, I fell for roughly ten or so floors and sprained my ankle. I was so angry I ate half of the customers shopping on floor one. The rest had to be put to death as they had witnessed it. Good times.

With a loud yawn, I stand as the elevator doors slide open in the distance and a young, scared looking boy stumbles out. He's drenched in so much fear I can smell it from clear over on the other side of the roof. Whoever this is, it's not Dark.

"What is the meaning of this, Grimmaw? This thing is not Dark. Doesn't even smell of Hellfire."

Grimmaw looks at me with a glum impression. "No, he is not Dark, my lord. I assure you though, Dark was here in this very building. Who are you!" Grimmaw rages at the fearful man wearing Dark's form.