The Grim's Daughter

The living room of Grim Manor was dark in most corners, with a single flame illuminating Nevaeh, who was curled up on her father's favourite armchair, watching the beautiful shadows dance eligantly across the golden spiral wallpaper. Some looked more delicate than fresh rose petals in the flickering candle light. She watched the stairs, waiting for her father to hurry down them with suitcases tucked under his arms. 

Death was taking a long time to pack his things. Only a week ago he had decided to tell Nevaeh that they would be moving and how he'd rented a small appartment in the Human's land. Nevaeh walked over to the stairs. leaning her head on the banister that they usually flung their coats over. But it was empty now. "Do you need any help?" she called up the stairs. 

"No, thanks," replied Death. "I'll be down in a little while." As Nevaeh walked away from the banister, Death cursed as he dropped a heavy suitcase on his toes. 

When Nevaeh stepped back into the room, she looked around, admiring the few things that were left: the father's favourite red and black chair, the cabinet in the corner of the room filled with valuable, rare glasses, and the mantlepeice holding pictures and treasured ornaments.

Only an hour ago the room had been filled with people ready to say their last goodbyes to Death and his daughter before they left for the Human's land. But Nevaeh didn't seem too pleased to leave the Underworld. It seemed almost impossible to believe they were moving away from the old cottage house she had lived in for fourteen years. 

She could hear Death's footsteps as he came down the stairs, moaning and cursing as he tried to carry two heavy suitcases. He left the suitcases at the foot of the stairs whilst he packed away anything that had been left out in the front room. 

"Put anything you want to take with you in here," said Death, passing Nevaeh her suitcase. She looked at it, knowing she wouldn't be able to fit all of her books in the small space left.

"There won't be enough room in here," said Nevaeh, tilting the suitcase so Death was able to see the space left. Most of the suitcase contained her clothes and other things she needed for the time being. 

"Then you'll have to take the books you really want to keep. Maybe, you can fit some in your shoulder bag," he suggested, pointing at the bag hooked on a coat peg. It was big enough to carry several books. But Nevaeh would have to leave a great many behind. "Be quick," said Death. "The Reapers will be arriving at any moment now."

"I don't see why they have to come," said Nevaeh, frowning. She was now trying to find her favourite books by thinking hard and raising two in front of her at the same time. Nevaeh bit her lip as she thought. 

"The Reapers help me with my job. They're my workers and are good men. Hades watches the souls and we are made to collect his souls if he hasn't earned enough."

Nevaeh stopped herself from saying anymore. She told Death when she was done and he put her suitcase beside his, and then he took the pictures from the mantle and packed them in his suitcase. Nevaeh could see him looking at a picture of his wife. Navata, her mother, had died in childbirth, but her baby girl had survived. Nevaeh looked the spitting-image of Navata.

They were the reason her father had built the house on the hill; it was supposed to be a surprise for Navata once she came back from Kifer's house, the town's witch doctor. Death was devasted when Kifer had brought the crying baby to his door, telling him about the terrible death of Navata. 

Death rushed out of the passage, mumbling something after he had accidently kicked the suitcase. He came back into the room with a pile of clothes in his arms. He chucked them at Nevaeh. "Put them on," he said.