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The crowd parted like the Red Sea as two blood thirsty soul collectors on opposite ends of the age spectrum ultimately crossed paths. Thick, deafening silence surrounded the two reapers staring each other down. The younger, crimson stained reaper stood frozen in place with an uncharacteristic expression of terrified shock in her eyes as she beheld the gray haired sadist.
"It seems our reputations precede us, Miss Sutcliff," the gray reaper coldly greeted.
"It seems so," the redhead replied as evenly as possible.
The Gray Shadow glared at the unnecessary spectators surrounding himself and the redhead. "It seems you've drawn quite the crowd, Miss Sutcliff. It's well known that the younger generations scatter like chaff in the wind at the very mention of me. I suppose that's part of my mystique; to make them tremble like sinners in the hands of an angry God."
"I suppose," the reaper in red agreed.
"I understand that you have something important to tell me, so I suggest we leave this place in favor of another lacking an audience." A knowing glint in the shadow's eyes flashed ever so briefly through the wrathful darkness as he summoned his Death Scythe. "I don't have all day, Miss Sutcliff. I suggest we make our egress now."
The questioning look on the redhead's face instantly disappeared upon hearing her superior's sharp command. With a short nod of compliance, she quickly leaped into the shadow's personal portal to a destination of his choosing. "Who am I to question anyone on breaking protocol?" she grumbled to herself.
"Quite right, Miss Sutcliff," a razor blade voice snapped from behind her as they materialized on the rooftop of a nondescript white building standing apart from its peers. "Does this location disturb you, Miss Sutcliff?" The unusual reaper cocked a thin, gray brow at the bloodstained chainsaw wielder.
"I'd rather not say, sir," Red Death respectfully declined to answer.
"Let us dispose of the formalities, Miss Sutcliff. I despise being addressed as 'sir'. You may address me by name and I shall do the same for you, if I so choose." The shadow's high contrast eyes pierced the effeminate reaper's toxic green double irises as he glared at her with an emotion darker than wrath centered within their depths. "If you please, answer my question."
"It does bother me to an extent. This building needs to be torn down. I don't know why it still stands." The reaper in red looked away as she continued. "It reminds me of all the horrible things that happened to those poor girls..." she softly mused. "How did you know-"
"That you had something important to tell me?" the gray reaper sharply cut off the other.
"Yes."
"I had a feeling that this day would come." The Gray Shadow was suddenly within inches of the other's face. He narrowed his scrutinizing, dark green and citrine eyes at the younger reaper, effectively trapping her like a fly in Venus' maw. "I'd like an explanation, Miss Sutcliff. Do be as brief and succinct as possible. I am not a patient man."
The intimidated redhead fought back the surge of regret threatening to burst forth from toxic green eyes. She couldn't break down in front of this man. She refused to be looked upon as weak by anyone, especially him. The pretty red reaper released the shaky breath she'd been holding when the wrathful man backed away from her. "I owe you an apology, Hesse," she began. "For refusing to help January-"
"Stella," the shadow sharply cut in. "Address her as such in my presence."
Red Death complied and continued. "...For refusing to help Stella after William raped her the day you saw me coming out of that room. The jealousy I felt at the time does not excuse the fact that I hurt her, and by doing so, I hurt you. It's rare for me to apologize for anything, but I am genuinely sorry for letting stupid jealousy and what I thought was love for a man who turned out to be nothing more than a depraved monster cloud my judgement." Red Death lowered her head in rarely displayed humility. "I stopped loving him when I saw the deplorable thing he did to her for myself...when I found her half dead...That's...that's...when I realized how wrong I was the whole time." Her voice quivered and softened as she recalled the bitter memory.
A curved spike in the shadow's left ear beckoned his fingers to it as the effeminate reaper continued her apologetic tale. His wrath was kindled as his fingers completed their downward journey on cold metal. An inaudible clinking brought back a certain memory as he whipped his head around to face his adversary once again. "You knew how I felt! Everyone knew! Dammit, Sutcliff, the whole fucking realm knows I still love her! I've tasted her secrets and she's tasted mine. I know her! Even if I wanted to stop loving her, I can't. I don't care if my love for her is unrequited! As long as I was with her I was happy. She knew how I felt and she was...she...Do you know why I don't get shit from anyone?"
Silence was the redhead's reply.
"Well, do you, Miss Sutcliff? Haven't you ever wondered why no one dares utter a single word against me?"
"Why?"
"Because I am what I am." The Gray Shadow circled Red Death like a shark closing in on its prey. "Gaines tried fucking with me once, but I put him in his place. Marcus would get ribbed, but he'd take it in stride. He was always a sentimental man. He'd always wanted to be a father. I bet you could imagine the joy he felt when he took in Stella and Mae the day their homeland was destroyed."
"Emily told me about it," the chainsaw wielding redhead softly responded.
"You know, even Adrian would get teased about losing someone he loved until someone got hurt. I, on the other hand-"
"Do not make threats, show no mercy, and end all oppose you," the reaper in red recited. "Strange, that's my morning mantra."
The shadow quirked a thin, gray brow and put the feminine reaper's comment in the back of his mind for the time being. "Precisely, Miss Sutcliff. No one fucks with me. Ever." The flames of Hell burned in the unusual reaper's dark green and citrine eyes as he stood toe to toe with the younger reaper. "It's because of her that you're still alive! It's because of my beautiful love's wish that I didn't end you that day! Twice, she asked me. Once, on the way home, and again while I was tending to the injuries on her legs. Do you even know how many times I've had to stop her from literally peeling off her flesh because of her shame? Do you know what she meant by the word 'punishment'?"
"Actually, I do, Hesse. She told me in a roundabout way that she was being raped," the red reaper humbly answered.
"And you didn't believe her because of your goddamn jealousy!" The shadow spat each accusatory word at the guilty party with venomous rage. "She was so innocent..." he said more to himself than anyone else as he turned away from the red reaper.
The humbled redhead opened her mouth to speak, but her vocal cords rebelled against her. Instead, she resorted to biting her lip to fight her urge to cry. She watched the broken man's wrath meld with anguish in its purest form as he once again tried to recapture the Rarity's soft kiss on the painful treasure in his left ear. Blood breached the thin surface of Red Death's lip as she continued to literally bite back the regret and guilt on the verge of exposing themselves. Was she truly feeling empathy for the sadistic man drowning in a cesspool of his own self loathing? Perhaps she was. She didn't know as this was an entirely new feeling for her. Again, she bowed her head, a thick scarlet wall blocking her face from the shadow's view, and let slip guilt from one toxic green eye and regret from the other.
"You're bleeding, Grell," the calmed shadow observed. "You don't seem like a rare meat kind of lady. I suppose you'd like for me to keep that a secret as something so savage isn't very ladylike. Ironic, considering your penchant for random killing sprees. I suppose your brand of sadism makes up for it. Murder could always use a woman's touch every once in a while."
"How do you know?" she whispered.
"About what? The killing sprees or the last meal you ate?"
"Both."
"I can smell it," he answered matter-of-factly. "As for your killing sprees, I've seen your work. You've greatly improved over the years."
"You can smell what I ate in my blood. We're reapers and we can smell blood, but you...Anyway, if you've been watching me, why haven't I sensed you? Furthermore, why haven't you turned me in?" the redhead persisted.
"Let's just say that I have heightened senses." A sadistic grin spread over the thin reaper's lips. "There's a reason I am known as the Gray Shadow. Haven't you ever wondered why my image isn't in our history books?"
"I admit that I have. I mean all the ancients' images are mostly action shots."
The redhead gasped when she was caught off guard by a battle axe at her throat and a voice whispering darkly behind her. "I am known as the Gray Shadow because I am everywhere and nowhere at once. I take no sides. I stake no claims. I make no threats. I show no mercy. I end all who oppose me. I am true neutrality." Within the blink of the red reaper's eyes, the ancient shadow was back in front of her, weapon banished, face a neutral mask, however, the darkness in his high contrast eyes betrayed it. "Besides, I admire your work. Moreover, who am I to pass judgement on someone else who indulges in the same past time as I?"
The red reaper's eyes widened in shock. "Hesse, I-"
"Miss Sutcliff, we're drifting off topic," the gray haired man interrupted. "Please accept my apologies for losing my composure, but you must understand my reasons. When you just left her there in that room, alone and humiliated all because of your foolish jealousy...I can't begin to describe how infuriated I was at the time. Stella's well being was-is-more important than you." The shadow pinched the bridge of his nose. "But what you did was petty compared to the transgression I committed against her. The anguish I live with every day forever consumes me. I have to live with the fact that I betrayed the only one I love, the only one with whom I allowed myself to feel...The one who made me happy for the first time in my long existence. I didn't want this to happen. I didn't want her to go away, but it was out of my hands..." he trailed off with a lowered gaze.
The redhead dared to lay a compassionate hand on the shadow's slumped shoulder. She was surprised when he didn't react negatively to her tentative touch. "Hesse," she spoke softly. "If Stella forgave me in her own way, perhaps she'll forgive you too."
"Consider yourself lucky that she did, Grell. Stella's wrath runs deep, but her love runs even deeper."
"I do consider myself lucky, but I don't fully understand what you mean."
"She loves you, Grell, because she considers you a friend," the broken man replied. "And Mr. Knox, too. Her people only know love and wrath. Though she houses great power, she dislikes using it. She didn't want to hurt you while you were fighting on her behalf," he soberly explained.
"You saw us?" the red god of death questioned.
"Yes," he answered simply. The Gray Shadow carefully considered his next choice of words as he composed himself again. "What's in the past is in the past, Grell. I suppose if Stella found it within her to be slow to anger with you and later call you a friend, then, I, too, will follow her example. To reiterate, what I've done is unforgivable compared to what you did." A tiny smile flitted across the shadow's lips. "You are smarter than what people give you credit for, Grell."
The reaper in red smiled in gratitude. "Thank you, Hesse. I wasn't expecting to be forgiven by you, but I'm glad that you did."
"My love for Stella runs deep even though it remains unrequited. I am hers, although she doesn't-and probably never will-know it. I know that, even as we speak, she is crying. I always know, even when we are parted from each other, and even beyond the borders of all the realms," the shadow softly confessed.
"But you didn't claim her," the chainsaw wielder pointed out.
"I know and I stake no claims. I never wanted to claim her. It's not in my nature to be possessive, however, I am hers to do with as she pleases and I always will be. I wouldn't have it any other way." The Gray Shadow allowed a single rogue tear to escape a high contrast eye. "For what I've done, I'll gladly perish for her, but by her hand alone."
Red Death knitted her brows together and beheld her superior in a new light. Underneath the cold, hard sadism was a tortured, vulnerable man; a man who felt; a man with a secret compassionate streak; a man who loved with great passion; a man whose wrath knew no bounds, and whose anguish ran deeper than any chasm in the darkest part of Hell. "I didn't know your love for her was that deep." A brief silence passed between the reapers. "Do you mind if I ask you something a bit off topic?"
The thin reaper cocked his head to the side. "What do you wish to know?"
"What happened to the pretty chains you wore on your boot?" Red Death asked, pointing a crimson stained finger at the aforementioned footwear.
"I never stopped wearing them."
The redhead shot him a skeptical look.
"Hold these." The gray haired reaper thrust a pair of rectangular, rimless glasses into the feminine reaper's hand. She watched as he turned his back and buried his hands in thick, shoulder length gray waves. Inaudible clinking grew louder as the ancient's slender fingers deftly unpinned a certain precious object from within his soft, gray tresses. The pretty red reaper's eyes went wide in awe as lengthy gray tumbled down the shadow's back like an angry, rolling storm cloud. He shook out the best kept secret in the realm, allowing hip length stormy gray to fall naturally into place. The shadow clenched his fist around the chains as he thought of their rightful owner. He sadly smiled as he remembered the night the Rarity wore the chains and the treasure he still kept as a memento hidden away in his desk drawer. "She's so beautiful..."
"Sweet, merciful Death, I thought you cut it off!" the redhead gasped.
The borderline androgynous sadist turned toward the source of the voice. "As you can see, I've never stopped wearing the chains," he revealed to the red haze in front of him. "I made this for Stella. She wore it only once. It was the night that I drew a portrait of her, and the only night...never mind. I've kept this for her, hoping that one day, when she escaped, I could return it to her."
Any response the red reaper had was quickly forgotten as she stood in awe of her superior's true beauty. Like him, the red reaper was biologically male. Like her, the shadow was borderline androgynous. Unlike her, his features retained some form masculinity, whereas hers were more feminine in nature. "I have never seen a face like yours. Honestly, your glasses don't do your beauty any justice," the awestruck redhead blurted out.
The chainsaw wielder's comment was met with an ironic snicker. "Nor I yours," the ancient replied as he approached the younger reaper. He stopped within centimeters of Red Death's face; close enough to kiss her if he so desired. "Nor I yours," he repeated ironically. "Your face is a mere blur to me, yet I can still kill you where you stand." He backed away from the redhead and pat down her arm in search of his much needed glasses. With a frustrated growl, he gripped the other's hand with both of his and pried his desperately needed eyewear from their temporary home.
"Oh, sorry," Red Death mumbled. "Um, Hesse, are you-"
"Yes, I'm quite blind, legally speaking, of course. I've always been blind, so you have nothing to fear in terms of aging aside from the axiom. Stella knew, in case you were wondering, and even when I couldn't see her, I still knew she was beautiful. I still knew the expressions on her face when she looked at me when I wasn't wearing my glasses. She never believed me because I'm not that One. I don't want to rehash the past anymore, Grell." The unusual reaper sighed heavily, then continued. "Blindness in any capacity is extremely rare for our race. You wouldn't think so, considering our already poor eyesight. But there is a difference between poor eyesight and blindness, whether it be legal or absolute. Blind reapers don't last long, Grell. As time has worn on, the population has soared, and as expected, the suicide rate among humans inflated. With such an influx of new reapers, training methods had to be streamlined, which is why so many of you rely so much on your eyesight and significantly less on your other senses."
"So, that explains your heightened senses," the reaper in red realized. "How did you become so skilled?"
"Adrian was my teacher," the shadow answered with a hint of pride in his voice. "I am the first recycled suicide; a legend in my own right."
"A legend training under a legend," the effeminate reaper mused.
"That's one way of putting it. Marcus Jones joined us soon after I began my apprenticeship with Adrian. I was Marcus' teacher while I was still learning under Adrian, and he was mine as well. The three of us were close for a very long time. Marcus was another rarity. He never needed glasses, but wore them anyway, lest he be deemed a defector. I envied both of them. I still envy Adrian's ability to do such a phenomenal job making the results of our work look like they've never met the business ends of our Death Scythes. Despite how violent and sadistic he is, Adrian is actually a patient man, but he has his limits. I still remember our reaping days with great fondness. I often regret having accepted promotion, but as of today, I don't."
The reaper in red hung on to every word the gray haired man uttered with enthused interest. Never before had she been in the presence of such an unusual reaper. She knew he was unlike the other reapers she knew, but then again, so were all the ancients. "What changed your mind?" she finally asked in reference to the shadow's regret.
A knowing grin spread over the sadistic reaper's lips. "I've been called upon to serve on the Council."
"That's wonderful!" Red Death exclaimed.
"I suppose so," the unusual reaper conceded. "The request couldn't have come at a better time. Not only will I wield more power, I will also be able to finally put my conscience to rest."
"How so?"
"My position on the Council will enable me to find the answers I need. Access is a key component to power. The more I have, the more power I wield. I already wield a lot of power in my current position, but even that has its limits."
"Do you think there's a conspiracy?"
"It's possible, but I can't be sure without evidence."
"Hesse, what will happen to Undertaker?" the red reaper anxiously inquired.
"I can tell you right now that a 'death warrant' will be issued for obvious reasons. As for the fates of yourself, Mr. Knox, and that degenerate, Spears, suspension from duty is a possible outcome. I can't be sure at this time," the gray reaper explained.
Red Death's eyes went wide behind stylish red frames. "But Undertaker didn't kill anyone for a cheap thrill. He's trying to save Stella from those disgusting perverts! We know-in fact, the entire realm knows-how possessive he is. Everyone knows that Stella is his mate, so whatever happens is perfectly justifiable. I'd be willing to bet my most expensive pair of heels that he's still fighting for her as we speak," the redhead asserted.
"I know and I agree, which is why I intend to offer my advocacy to him," the shadow acknowledged. "Not only for the aforementioned reasons, but because he is my friend. Most of all, I'm doing it for her. Even though she doesn't remember me anymore, I'm sure she does not wish to part from Adrian. It's the least I can do to ensure her happiness in some small way. And should you and Mr. Knox need an advocate, I can be that one," the gray haired reaper offered.
Red Death's eyes lit up. "I'd really appreciate that. If you need Ronnie and I to help you, then we'll do what we can," she responded with an offer of her own.
"I'll let you know should the occasion arise. As for Adrian, it's going to be a challenge getting him to agree to accept my advocacy. He is a notoriously stubborn man," the newly ordained Councilman mused.
"True," Red Death agreed.
"Grell, I believe it's time for us to part ways. You have a man who loves you in surgery, and I'm sure you wish to freshen up for him before he awakens. I, on the other hand, have business I must attend to." The Gray Shadow summoned his feared battle axe in preparation for his unorthodox journey into chaos. "It has been an enlightening experience."
Death in red lightly laughed and nodded in agreement. "Yes it has, and I couldn't be more grateful for it. I'm sure we'll meet again soon when the crowd parts like the Red Sea."
"That we will. After all, our reputations do precede us. Farewell, Miss Sutcliff," the Gray Shadow bid.
"Goodbye, Hesse," Red Death returned.
With farewells bid, two former enemies made their own unorthodox exits to destinations only they knew; each one following their heart.