Skin and Bones (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Five

I rolled my eyes. "Uh- It's Halloween? And you could be the gardener."

He raised a brow, looking genuinely perplexed for a moment. "The gardener." He said in a flat tone.

"Yeah... Like... Isn't that what a scythe is for? Have you never cut grass with it?"

"That's not what my scythe is for, no." He said with a grim smile.

Well, it was what most people used scythes for. Farming and mowing and that, I think. In any case I don't see how the most logical, obvious explanation would be that he is somehow the Grim Reaper.

"Have you tried?" I asked.

He stared at me for a long moment, long enough that I began to notice that through the thick black fog I could no longer hear the screaming man's cries. It seemed to block out a great deal of things, and it was so black that it made it hard for me to see anything else other than us too, and even then I wasn't sure I understood how come I could see him.

He leaned in close, his distractingly attractive face just an inch or two away from mine. I looked up at him and felt like stuttering over words which I wasn't even attempting to say. Those cold cruel looking eyes were definitely the most gorgeous eyes I'd ever seen on a guy, and when he squinted like that the thin strip of an uneven earthy red that was curled around his pupils was eerie in a bizarrely sexy way.

"The scythe is not a tool used for grass and farm-stock." He said, there was a dangerous quality to his voice, but somehow I knew that he wasn't scary... maybe because I was distracted enough by how good looking he was to care if he was dangerous or not.

He spoke close to my ear, his voice low, I shivered, wanted to push him away but as I pressed a hand against his chest I couldn't help but feel the warm muscular form beneath the clothes and somehow doubt everything I had seen and heard so far... Maybe I was being tricked and he wasn't the Grim Reaper at all. It didn't sound like something I would normally believe.

"A tool of the ages," He continued. "An instrument which belongs to Death itself, whose master must be of a half soul, invented not born, to be used to vanquish souls for all eternity."

I frowned. "But have you tried?"

He blinked twice and said nothing.

"So you haven't?"

He raised a brow. "To cut grass?"

"Yeah."

"Everything it touches dies." He responded, sounding irritated.

"Oh," I looked down. "I guess I don't know what I would do with something like that then."

He glared at me. "What you would..." He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply for a second. A couple seconds of silence ensuing which allowed me to realise that I could still hear noises from outside, because I could just about hear moaning from the man on the floor, but the smell was gone, or covered up by the smell of ash.

Was it just me or was it getting warmer between us too?

"My hands are... hands." He whispered the quiet revelation as he was opening his eyes half a centimetre. They looked like they were brighter all of a sudden.

He looked horrified, and angry all at once. "It can't be."

He gripped my neck tighter and I yelped, wrapping my hand around his hand-which-was-definitely-a-hand-now. Flesh and blood and soft despite it's crazy power. I couldn't move even and inch in its grip.

"Who is your master?" He snarled, his voice resounding and loud inside my head as it had once before. I jumped and flinched and tried to pull away all at the same time in shock.

I didn't wait, I couldn't think about it. It was as though I didn't have the permission to, I had said it once before and as if in a trance I said it once more, "Anubis." I said immediately.

I swallowed, wanting to find something to fling out at punch or something but looking up at the man holding me, whose grip seemed to be like that of a chunk of metal, I physically held myself back.

He cocked his head. "How can that be...." He hissed. "Prove it." He demanded loudly. I just had no idea how he mean that I should do such a thing.

I tried to pull away but felt his hand grip around my neck tighter. "H- How?"

But he didn't wait for me to figure it out, he leaned in too quickly for me to know his intentions, his hand around the back of my neck firm so that I could not pull away and suddenly he pressed his lips on mine, evil lips that tasted of metal, initially savagely punishing my mouth, causing me to yell out in surprise. Still, quickly enough I felt a kind a desperate heat begin to slip into my blood, spreading and growing stronger.

His lips were soft but strong, biting and sucking at my lip, mean and yet I couldn't pull away, couldn't yell out in shock or pain anymore. His body moved closer and I wrapped a hand around his neck. I wanted more and nothing less. I was burning from inside out.

He tasted so good when he shouldn't have, metal never tasted as good before. He didn't give me time to breath or let me pull away so I was left panting and clinging to him, trembling as he held me close to him, a hand around my waist holding me upright as he devoured me. A trickle of saliva running from the corner of my mouth.

The world spun around me, the ground shifting underneath me. I felt lighter and heavier at the same time and then it all disappeared. The entire world went black in a split second as I fell unconscious right then and there, in his arms.

[A/N] Thank you to my patrons...

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