The Grim's Daughter

"What's wrong with the clothes I'm wearing now?" Nevaeh asked, looking down at her black dress and tights. At the bottom of her dress, she had red frills and a bow to match. 

"We have to blend in with everybody else when we're there, so go and get changed into the clothes I've gave you,"  Death ordered.

Taking one look at the clothes, Nevaeh sighed and stormed into the bathroom to change into a pair of black leggings, a white vest top and a black cardigan. "Ugh!" said Nevaeh. When she came back into the living-room, Death was wearing a baggy blue top and jeans. She crossed her arms. "I look ridiculous!" 

Nevaeh walked closer towards the mirror; she didn't feel like herself. The mirror seemed to be breaking, revealing something inside that had never been there before, a figure among the glass that she knew was not herself. Her stomach felt as if it was twisting. 

Her long black hair fell down her back and her purple eyes were the final feature to complete the exact same image of her mother- her eyes!

"Dad, what do I about my eyes?" stated Nevaeh. "They're purple!" 

"They look blue when it's sunny. As long as you don't go out when it's bright, or just keep your hood up. You'll be fine in the appartment."

Nevaeh sighed, again. "I'm going to miss living here," she said. "I've grew up in the Underworld- thirteen years I've lived here. All my life. It'll be hard fitting in."

"You don't need to fit in, Nevaeh. But you'll soon learn their strange words," said Death, trying to comfort her. "I cross my heart."

Nevaeh raised her head. "That reminds me, actually. Why do the Humans believe you're immortal?"

"It's quite a long story," laughed Death. 

"I'm a good listener. Just tell me," she insisted. "We might be waiting for a while."

"Ok," began Death. "Your great, great grandad, Death, who I was named after, was immortal. One day, he went hunting. He maid a deal with a dark fairy who lived in the forest, called Jazmo. He requested the fairy to give him the power of death and in return, he would offer the dark faury his soul. But it was all a plan. Death had tricked the fairy into giving him what he wanted, and by the time the fairy, Jazmo, had cast the wish and was taking his soul, Death killed her. In the time she had left of her life, fighting to survive and escape Hades's lake of souls, she cursed her murderer. Jazmo had turned him immortal.

"At first Death was glad that the fairy had cursed him with immortality, and laughed whenever he thought of Jazmo. He though he'd outsmarted the fairy, but it was when he and his wife, Julia, were gifted with his first son that he realized what Jazmo's plans were. He would grow old and grey, aching everywhere possible and never meeting his end, whilst his children and their children's children would die in front of his eyes, causing him more pain than ever. Once his great-granddaughter, Marial, had burnt to death by the harsh licks of a flame gone out of control in her house, Death ran into the woods, hiding his face forever, unable to take any other pain. Nobody ever saw him again after that.

"Have you put everything in your suitcase ?" said Death once he had finished his story. 

"Yes," replied Nevaeh, putting her shoulder bag on.

"Good," he said. "It won't be long until the Reapers arrive."

Death left Nevaeh packing and went into the kitchen to gaze at the dinig table the many counters around her. The plates were still set out on the table. Thrindle, his trust-worthy crow, watched him from above the cupboards. 

"Come here," said Death, patting his shoulder. Thrindle soared through the long yards between them and perched his small body on his master's shoulder. The door knocker banged against the front door. "Get the door, Nevaeh! It'll be the boys!" shouted Death. 

"OK!" Nevaeh shouted. She quickly ran to the door and slowly pulled the heavy door open. The four Reapers walked through, taking no such notice of Nevaeh who was holding the door open. "Your welcome," she said under her breath and shut the door again. 

Two twins with long, ice blue hair wandered strode into the living-room and sat down on the floor as if nobody else was there. They looked the youngest of the Reapers, but had little sense Nevaeh thought when they started humming. 

"Where's your father?" asked Dusk.

Dusk and Death had knew eachother ever since Nevaeh was born, as Death always liked to tell her. When Nevaeh was younger, seven at the latest, Dusk used to hand her a present when he came through the door and would walk past her in the streets with a smile on his face.

But as Nevaeh became older, she hardly had any time to see him or listen to Dusk's facinating stories when he vistited. 

"I'm in here, Dusk," shouted Death leaning back in his chair so he could only just see Dusk from the kitchen.

One reaper stayed standing in the passage. It was really strange seeing the Reapers without their long, black robes and hoods up. Nevaeh ran after Dusk and followed him into the kitchen, looking back at the lonely reaper. 

"Ah, hello, Dusk," said Death, welcoming Dusk by handing him a seat from the table. Death loved Dusk's company more than anyone else's, even Nevaeh's. "Please, sit. Looking forward to living in a new world?" he grinned. Nevaeh found Death as a lively person; he was always prancing about the house and listening to nothing but music in the kitchen as he talked to Thrindle. 

"It'll be a good adventure," said Dusk, sitting in the chair. "What do you think, Nevaeh? (she didn't answer) I presume you'll miss all of your friends; is that it?"

Nevaeh, unexpectedly, stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 

"Nevaeh doesn't seem to get along with the children around these parts," she heard Death say. The two men started a new conversation, one which, hopefully, wouldn't upset anyone. Nevaeh went to walk into the next room when she bumped into the back of someone. The man turned around. 

"Need any help?" he asked in a hoarse voice, glaring at Nevaeh. 

"I'm fine," said Nevaeh, getting up from the floor and wiping the dirt from her leggings.                                                    

"Trouble?" he asked. 

"My trouble in none of your business!" Nevaeh growled.  Anyway, who are you?"

"Like it's any of your business," he said.

"Nevaeh, get our things, we're leaving!" Death shouted as he walked out of the kitchen. 

She ran past the reaper, noticing his long blond hair that stopped just above his shoulders. Death came out of the kitchen, followed by Dusk. "I've been waiting for this all day," said Dusk, grabbing his bags. The Reapers took their few that they had left by the door.

Outside, the willow tree's vines and fine leaves were brushing the dusty glass of the cottage windows. Red rose beds surrounded the garden and stopped at the white, little picket fences that were built around the cottage. The Reapers, Death and Nevaeh walked outside, waiting on the cobble-stone path. 

"Where's the carriage?" asked Nevaeh, staring down the stone bridge that ran through the river. 

"I thought we'd take the short cut," grinned Death. "Bones!"

One of the twins stepped forward and stood still for a moment, Then, he raised his hand and cut through the air with one single swipe of the hand, as if he was hitting someone. A purple portal grew from his hand, spreading like water, until it formed, reflecting their images like a stained mirror. "Quickly," he rushed, taking a step into the portal. It swallowed him whole and then turned to the rest of it's meal.