Prologue

 

            “Get her onto the bed immediately!!” The main doctor shouted across of the emergency room, helping out the other doctors and paramedics who had just brought in a dark, curly red copper haired girl with several little cuts amongst her arms, a medium sized one sliced across on the side of her head. They weren’t the worse of the cuts; the one being on her stomach being the biggest of them all. The paramedics where worried to take the girl out of the car at first, seeing the amount of damage that had been impacted on her, having to watch out for the broken pelvis and cracked elbow that she had added to the cuts that where all over her body.

            When the head doctor checked to see if the machines and tubes were together and tight, the heart monitor was beeping at an up and down pace, going faster at first, but then going slower a few seconds later. He took the shock pads and rubbed them together, hoping that it would jumpstart the girl’s heart as he applied pressure to her chest. The girl moved to the jolt, yet it was unsuccessful, one of the other doctors gendering at her heart monitor.

“Doctor Ellington, you might want to call the girl’s parents…I don’t think she’s going to make it no longer than about two hours. We found out who it was, so we wrote the number on the sticky pad in the office…”

Doctor Ellington, the head doctor, nodded sympathetically at Doctor Smith, who was staring at the percent of the monitor with her chestnut-hazel eyes while Doctor Ellington rushed out of the office to the nearest phone.

            Watching the blond haired doctor rushing down the hallway, the voices around the hospital sounded like the world was in slow motion to the Grim Reaper, hiding his boned face in the black cloak that he had worn for centuries. The edges of the cloak were torn and ragged everywhere, a musty smell coming off of the cloak. It was not the smell that anybody would like to have smelled in the morning, yet it didn’t matter to the Grim Reaper; he didn’t have to care about his attire. No human had to see him, being invisible to the naked eye and the whole world of the living. He also didn’t mind about the fact that he had his staff, which was about three inches taller than his six foot two height, yet an inch thicker than most staffs that had been attained by any of the previous Grim Reapers. The blade also curved down more, almost making it look like a flat candy cane without the flavor or strips.

            Hearing the usual screams of souls behind his back, the Grim Reaper poked his head into a hallway of rooms that were full of attached souls almost ready to leave their present bodies. This made the Grim Reaper grin devilishly, even if he didn’t have his mouth to feel himself grin with. A man in about his late forties was standing beside his present body, his face in the palm of his hands while he had to watch his wife of twenty-one years crying herself horse at the fact of her husband’s five seconded death.

“Keith Richardson?”

The man turned around, his almost black eyes struck with grief and depression at the sight of who was in the room.
“Yes? What do you want?”

“It’s time to leave your wife now..”

Keith scrunched his face at the Grim Reaper at first, thinking that it was all a joke until he saw a little minion with fangs past his chin, his skin as dark as charcoal with his red-yellow eyes holding a warning ribbon.

“Y-Y-You’re the Grim Reaper; please let me just say good bye to Claire! I promise to come with you after, I promise!” Keith scrambled over to Claire Richardson, who had her head on Keith’s chest. At first, Keith was hesitant to even to touch his wife, not wanting to scare her by the misty, cold touch that he could give off. But he set a hand on her shoulder, whispering that he’d always be watching her from above, saying he loved her and the family.

            The Grim Reaper stood as patiently as he could, yet hoped that he could just get on without having to wait for another five minute speech about how one soul would miss the living. The silver, transparent soul then kissed his wife on the cheek, gliding over to the Grim Reaper with a discontent look in his eyes. The little minion giggled viciously at the poor, new soul, scattering over to the Grim Reaper like a rat. He got a chain that was in the same hand as the staff’s, attaching iron cuffs to Keith’s wrists to make sure he didn’t run away, a black ribbon going along with the addition. “Let’s get going...we don’t have time to waste...” The Grim Reaper’s voice rippled deeply, tugging on the chain to make the souls start walking. The little, child like demon that had put the cuffs on Keith blinked twice, his yellowish red eyes glowing when he jumped on the highest part of the chains. The Grim Reaper didn’t really care, the demon being as light as a feather compared to any of his other minions. So with the demon quietly sitting and waiting for another batch of souls to gather up, he watched his master tug and drag the chain along the hospital ground while the souls just cried in despair, sniffing around to see if there was any more souls on the third floor. It took a minute or so before the demon caught a light scent of peaches down the hallway, which lead into an ER room.

“Master, there’s another soul that’s caught on the edge…”

            The term caught on the edge caught the attention of the Grim Reaper, stopping at the elevator to turn around to where the scent had been caught. “Thank you, Igor…” He patted the childish demon on the head, his skinless bones gently leaving Igor’s head as he walked down the hallway with the chain going past his ankles. The scent suddenly started to glow a light gold, trailing down to where a heart monitor was beeping too slow for its own good. The heart monitor was hooked up to a girl with bandages everywhere on her arms and forehead, a few life supporter tubes running all over her body.

Igor surfed off of one of the chains, bouncing all over the place to sit upon the girl’s tubed chest. “She’s a young one today, master!”

“How old, Igor?”

Igor lifted up the girl’s lifeless arm, and let it plop down after he skimmed the hospital bracelet.

“Just eighteen…her name’s Vivian Carrel…”

The Grim Reaper said nothing as he set the chains against a metal chair, the chains breaking open to attach itself to the chair before clasping together again. He scooted past one of the machines in the doorway, seeing the girl’s soul trying hard not to disconnect from her present body, which surprised the Grim Reaper almost as more as her beauty did, catching him way off guard.

“Master?...Master?”

The Grim Reaper shook his head. “What?!..I mean, yes?”

“Can I get the black ribbon?”

“Fine.” He waved his hand to Igor, a black ribbon dangling from his bony fingertips. The ribbon was for anybody that was dying or already dead; a mark for the souls that were going to be wandering around the Earth without being actually alive.

            Igor snatched the ribbon, reaching for it on his tip toes to get a good grasp of what was in the front of him. The Grim Reaper chuckled to himself, raising the ribbon higher for Igor to grab. But it failed when Igor crawled up his arm, ripping the black ribbon out of his fingers with a hiss. “I can’t have any more fun with you anymore, Igor…” The Grim Reaper joked; his only entertainment on collecting souls was to tease Igor. The demon boy ignored what he had said, tying the thin, black ribbon to Vivian’s wrist. It took a few minutes to tie the ribbon onto her wrist, Igor struggling with the girl’s wrist, which was unusual for Igor.
“What’s wrong, Igor?”

“It’s not gettin’ on her wrist, master…the ribbon’s goin’ through her wrist..”   

“What do you mean ‘The ribbon’s going through her wrist’?”

Igor rolled his eyes, moving a couple inches away from the body to show what he was talking about. He tried to tie the ribbon onto the girl’s wrist, yet it went through her skin as though her wrist was a projection. It didn’t take too long for the Grim Reaper to realize what was going on, only hearing about things like what was happening to Vivian.

“She resisting death; the girl’s fighting to live….something worthwhile to live for in this lifetime…..” It amazed the Grim Reaper to have a case like Vivian’s happening to him, only hearing about resisting when he first started being who he was now. “Wake her up…wake her soul up now!”

            Igor searched his pant pockets, grumbling to himself for a few minutes until he pulled out a needle thin flute, raising it to his lips. He played a ten second tune, a silver smoke floating over Vivian’s dying body. The smoke then evaporated over her face, a faint color of a pearly white glowing around her eyes. The Grim Reaper clutched his staff. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to concentrate, and his mind seemed to turn into an odd liquid.                                                  Standing there for a few minutes, a loud clanking noise disturbed The Grim Reaper’s thoughts.

“IGOR!” The child like demon giggled quietly to himself, setting down the surgical knife that was on the metal table behind him. The Grim Reaper sighed, releasing his grip from his staff, holding his right hand over Vivian’s flushed, mystified face. He uttered an ancient language; a sentence that all Reapers had ot know when raising a soul while they were on the edge.

 

A thunderous shake made The Grim Reaper and Igor almost fall over, only lasting for about a few seconds. A thin, evaporated version of Vivian pushed herself up from the bed, scanning the room with her emerald, green eyes. When her eyes landed on Igor, she climbed away towards the hospital wall and screamed, her face turning a even more pasty white than it was before; her eyes boggling at the Grim Reaper. “This is only a dream, this is only a dream…,” Vivian whimpered, still staring at the Grim Reaper as though he was some kind of monster.                                   This made the right hand of Underworld feel uncontrollable, shaking his head quickly to shoo away the unknown emotions away.  “Vivian Carrel?” The girl stayed mute, clutching the blanket that was on the bed. The Grim Reaper got closer to the bed, which only made Vivian even more afraid of her ‘wild imagination’.

“Vivian Carrel..”

“W-What do you want?”
The Grim Reaper said nothing in return, only touching her forehead as he whispered a chant, watching calmly while Vivian’s eyes rolled to the back of her head a bit, her body slouching down back into her present body. The silver mist of her face disappeared from her eyes. Igor titled his head in utter confusion. “Master?...Master.”

“Let’s go, Igor.”

“But Master—“

“I said let’s go, Igor.”

Igor flipped himself over the bars on the hospital bed, running over towards the Grim Reaper’s staff. At first, Igor was hesitant on asking any questions, not wanting to be scolded at for pestering his master with too many questions. He cleared his throat, and bent his head back up to the Grim Reaper, who was clicking the door open to head towards the elevator.

“What did you do, Master?...”  The Grim Reaper kept his hand still on the handle, peeking at the sleeping girl who boggled his mind through a disinigrated part of his hood. Then he turned away, towering down at the curious demon boy below him.
“..I gave her a different kind of hell to endure; a hell that would hold a certain kind of…purpose, perhaps?”

 

The Grim Reaper felt a invisible grin form upon his face, a coy one that even Igor couldn’t tell from. Igor raised an eyebrow, his eyes following the Grim Reaper, cocking his head back real quick to look over at Vivian Carrel.  

 

‘..A different kind of hell to endure; a hell that would hold a certain kind of…purpose….’

 

 

Author's Note

I didn't know how to end this prologue. xD

Reviews

[Wellokay]

OMG THATS AHMAZING

[Alyssa]

Very interesting and unique, i was intruiged :)