Little Timmy

"From the bones of this mistreated child, we give you life with a laugh and a smile. A human reaper you shall be formed. From this day forth, you will have the power to shift back and again from human to reaper." The Ancient Parent Reapers added the last cup of dead man's blood. They do a fancy ancient dance around the alter of bones, blood, special herbs, and other ingredients to make a reaperet, a baby reaper.

Gold and orange magic streams flow out of their black ragged cloaks. It surrounds the alter, wrapping it in a eerie glow. The dance was complete.

"We must find a good family for this one." Barbosa, the lead Parent Reaper, set a (literal) bony hand on the wrapped alter. He gently pushes the glowing streams, making them form a gray-white wrap. "We have until the next Gally Day."

"But, that's in nine months. It's takes 12 to make a reaper." Susan, a Parent Reaper in training, gasped at this sudden news.

"Susan, this child will be able to shift from human to reaper. It must be formed in nine months." The second in command, raised an eyebrow, in theory. (Since you can't see past the unnatural darkness from the cloak, and even if you could, it would be just a skull, which doesn't have any eyebrows. Or hair. Or anything really since it's a reaper.) "You have a lot to learn."

"Okay, but why must the dead line be the next Gally Day?" Susan shrugged.

"If it doesn't have a family to be assigned to, it will turn to a vengeful spirt. Those Winchesters have enough on their plate, a reaper that can change form will be a...a... a nightmare for them?" Barbosa shrugged, not knowing how to describe it since those Winchesters have been to the Underworld and back.