Beta. Reaper

DEATH IN A BEANIE

It has been a month since the presence of Death and his accompanying coldness became a staple in my life and my constant fear of him has drizzled to a calm strike every now and then.

I was braiding my hair when I heard the familiar quiet pop that signified the arrival of the Grim Reaper "Hey, Grey," I greeted without turning to look at him. I was starting to get used to his disappearing and reappearing act. I saw him through the mirror as he watched me braid my fair in fascination.

"Kelly," He said in acknowledgement. He could never say hi or hello like everyone else and it took a while of nagging for him to call me Kelly and not Kelly Black.

"Normal people say hi or hello," I said while flashing him a smile. 

The familiarity of this particular banter was not lost on him as he smiled back, laying down on my bed. He had an unexplainable fascination with my bed and I couldn’t say anything now as he wasn’t spreading darkness across my mattress. He looked like a human now, a human dressed like an axe murderer, covered in black clothing. Even his midnight black hair was hidden under a black beanie. 

"I am not-" He started to say but I cut him off with an eye roll. We couldn't go a day without him reminding me of his peculiarity.

"Right, you're are not a normal person. You are the Grim Reaper, Reaper for short, Death, if I please" I parroted like a little brat. “I know that,” I rolled my eyes as he scowled.

"I am not even a –" He tried to add but again, I jumped in and cut off his statement.

"You're not a person, you're the Angel of Death. I got that the first hundred of times you said it, Grey," I said and he sank deeper into the bed in a show of resignation.

"You're a pain in the rear," He rushed out before I could cut him off again and I would have. 

"You can say that again," I sang with a smirk. 

I watched with my heart in my throat as he polished his scythe with a black piece of cloth that seemed to have materialized out of thin air along with his scythe. The glistening metal had a bit of dark liquid coated around it that made my heart seize for a millisecond. It wasn’t blood nor sweat and I didn’t know what it was but considering his line of work and the purpose of the large and sharp looking instrument, it wasn’t too farfetched to think the substance was part of the life essence of someone who must no longer have the liberty to walk the earth.

“What’s that?” I asked quietly. 

“It’s not any of your business,” He replied in a tone that left no room for arguments. His voice neither increased nor decreased and there wasn’t anything other than fact in his statement.

I was done braiding my hair now and my entire focus was held hostage by his scythe which he was twisting left and right for the now completely clean blade to catch the little bit of sunlight streaming into my room.

"I don't like seeing that. It scares me," I commented. An image flashed through my mind of the scythe in my body and I shivered uncomfortably. It would be swift and cold and then I would be only a memory, a shell, a corpse.

"It should," He replied, showing off gleaming white teeth that looked at deadly as his blade. “It can cut out your soul without trouble,” He added with a shrug. I wondered how he could speak of souls and death like it was nothing then I remembered he was Death and life was nothing to Death.

The mention of souls made me twitch in my dresser seat as an idea that had been dancing around in my head for the past week suddenly came out to play again. He was death and Death. He was the one who took my friends and family from me. I wasn’t about to start cussing at him and demanding he bring them back as I understood that people had to die. Not completely though, but I understood to an extent. 

“Grey?” I called. I was about to butter him up like toast and even if the idea seemed ludicrous and down right dangerous, I had to try. Being friends with Death had to have its perks and I was going to find out just what those perks could be.

“Hmm?” He answered in a distracted hum.

“You know my brother, Ken?” I started. My palms got clammy and I had to rub them on my jeans even as my heart started to race in anticipation and fright. 

“Have I ever met him?” There was sarcasm in his voice and it rang clear that I was about to venture into unappreciated grounds.

“He is dead,” I answered flatly.

“Along with billions of others, Kelly. You don’t suppose I’m on first name basis with every soul I have to collect. Do you?” His annoyance started to filter into the air. The part of me that was only starting to get used to the presence of this being was already going to drop the subject but the greater part of me that cried myself to sleep each night, missing my family, missing my twin, was determined.

“Do you remember our first encounter?” I almost pleaded. 

His eyes that had been trained on me suddenly shifted away and a lie followed this behaviour. “No. "

I was overwhelmed with an onslaught of emotions as things were not going any close to how I had planned or hoped. “You and I know that that isn’t true. Please Grey, I just want my family,” My eyes burned with the unshed tears gathering in them.

"I take lives, Kelly. I do not give," He replied in a dry voice. The annoyance in the air was sealed tight, locked away from me as he was prone to do now, shielding me from the intensity of his emotions that often spilled out of him. Yet, even if I couldn’t feel it in the air or taste it in my mouth, I could see annoyance painted across his pinched face.

“You don’t have to give them life,” desperation leaked through my words. “I just want to see them for a little while. You operate in two worlds, Grey. You can take me with you for a short trip,” I begged in earnest now.

"You want to go to the Underworld with me?" He asked. His face was unreadable but I had felt the slight electricity of surprise in the atmosphere before he contained it.

Was that what I wanted? Grey and I never spoke about his job. It was like an unspoken pact that we kept our species secrets to ourselves; he never spoke of being the Angel of Death and I never spoke of being the Beta of Silver Day. Our discussion were always about trivial things like school and games, mostly about what foolish humans perceive werewolves and Death to be. Nothing about his world and nothing about mine.

"Is that possible?” I asked, a new plan unfurling in my head. 

“Yes, it is,” He answered then he laughed. It was low, slow and piercing. It was both the laughter of mockery and pain. “You can come with me to the Underworld, Kelly Black, but you’ll first have to be introduced to my scythe. Your time hasn’t come, however I’m the Grim Reaper, the bringer of death and I can make it happen. Your call, Kelly Black,” He laughed again and this time, there was no bottled feelings. The cap on his emotion flew off and cold spilled into the room.

“ I don’t want to die,” I whispered to myself.

"What was that?" He asked, making me sigh. He had heard clearly well what I had said but he was in a strange mood.

"I don't want to die," I said louder. 

"Good. Now shut up," he said, stretching out. "Your bed is comfortable indeed. I would sleep, but I’m not certain I still remember how to do that,” He stilled suddenly and his eyes gazed into the distance, unseeing. “It might mess up The Balance anyway,” He finalized with a shake of his head. I vaguely wondered if it was possible for something as small as sleep to catapult the world into chaos and ruin the balance of good and evil in the world but I didn’t have time to dwell on that.

“Okay, I don’t want to go to the Underworld,” I pressed on. Another person, someone not named Kelly Black, Beta of Silver Day pack, would have dropped it, but I would not. I could not.

Loneliness had become my companion, a shadow of sort, an entity existing beside me. Skype calls with Remi had dwindled to once every now and then because of school and pack business and I was left alone with Death.

The people at my school flocked towards me at the resumption of the semester because they knew Ken, my brother and only friend, was gone and would need replacing so they had attached themselves to me like glue, smouldering me in their ploys of deception and fake fancy until I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I was all alone now and asides from the frequent visits of Grey and my Sunday dinner with my uncle and his mate, there was no one else I talked to. It was quite sad, a leader of a large pack, alone and lonely.

"But you could send a message for me," I continued, determined to communicate with my family through the Grim Reaper. "I mean, we’re kind of friends and I don’t know if you know this, but friends help each other out if they can,” I played my ultimate card and held my breath in anticipation.

Again, the hold he had over his emotions slipped and I could feel a warmth unusual for him slowly spread into the room. He muttered something under his breath and it sounded like ‘friends’ in an awed voice like a kid meeting their fairy godmother for the first time, then the warmth receded and Grey scoffed.

“I can’t say that I have much experience with friends but the dead have no business with the living and I will not breach an important part of The Balance just to please you, Kelly,” He said and I cried out in frustration.

“I’m alive and you ARE death!” I exclaimed in frustration.

“You’re alive and I’m alive. I know it’s too large for your puny brain to understand but I’m not dead because I’m Death,” He said. “It’s the only thing I get out of this deal,” He muttered reproachfully.

That could not be it. I started a long chatter of complaint and I might as well have pulled up a PowerPoint lecture but his eyes were closed and his shoulders were relaxed. If he wasn’t Death, I could have mistaken him for an innocent sleeper who I was disturbing.

"Kelly?” He called and I had to take a large breath to calm my lecture.

"Yeah?" I replied with a smile that hurt my cheeks, thinking I had somehow changed his mind. 

"SHUT UP!" He roared and I flinched back, promptly shutting my mouth.