-Music Recommendation-A Thousand Years by Christina Perri-

Year 1770--

The town was ghost-quiet, except for the hush of the wind passing through closed windows, reaching towards a shrouded figure standing at the end of the street.

His face could not be seen as it was covered with the hoody black cloak he wore, but surrounding him were waves of darkness, ones that could ignite fear into one's bones at first sight.

A silver scythe was held in one of his unseen hands behind the cloak; his gaze, though unseen, seemed to be fixed ahead, directly at a house at the end of the street—the only one with a light on in one window.

As the figure began moving down the street, heading straight for this specific house, his cloak swayed in the wind. However, at the tip of the cloak, which hung in the air, there was black smoke circling it. This indicated that this creature might be a dark force.

He reached the house at the end of the street, his gaze lifting up towards the open window. The window glowed with light emanating from inside, like the tip of his scythe.

"It is time," he murmured. As the soul traveler, it was his job to guide souls from this world to the next, where they would be judged based on their lives spent on earth. Just like every other day of taking souls, today another soul was to be taken, a soul only a few feet away from him.

He raised his scythe towards the window and in the next moment, he found himself inside a room illuminated by a lamp on the bedpost, casting a warm yellow glow. The light spread across the room, revealing a young girl lying on the bed, appearing to be around eighteen years old.

"How sad," the figure thought as he approached the bed, gazing down at the girl. Her dark hair flowed like the night around her peaceful face. Only by coming close enough to feel her lack of pulse would one realize that she was dead.

"How can someone who had barely lived their life commit suicide?" he wondered. What must she have been going through that led her to take her own life? Her mind was sealed somehow, making it difficult for him to read it. If he had, he would have known why she had ended her life.

"Well," he said as he raised his scythe towards her, the tip still glowing. It wouldn't stop glowing until her soul had traveled to the other world. He was not meant to pity anyone; his job was to take souls. Whatever may have driven them to succumb to death was none of his business.

As the scythe neared her, it glowed even brighter.

Tomorrow, her family would realize that their daughter was no more, for she had drunk a poisonous substance this late night.

As the scythe continued to glow, soon the soul of the girl came to stand before him, her eyes drowsy, her lips pouted in a frown. Of all the souls he had collected, none had stood to face him with such bravery, as he was a scary skeleton being. Although he was covered entirely with his cloak, when facing this soul, his skeleton face was bare. But this girl gazed at him sternly, with no hint of fear in her eyes.

A wry smile appeared on her face as he raised the scythe towards her, ready to harvest her soul. "You are here to take me, right? Grim Reaper," her voice was calm, as was her face.

He dropped the scythe, revealing his skeleton face, although it was hard to read his expression. He crooked his head to one side, and from the tone of his voice, one could tell he was intrigued. "Are you not scared of the unknown?" he asked.

"Scared?" the girl scoffed, sitting back on her bed. Her gaze traveled to her lifeless body, then back up at him. "I am not afraid of anything."

"Good," the Grim Reaper replied. "This will make my work easy." At least he wouldn't have to deal with a pleading human who refused to move to the afterlife.

The girl shook her head. "No, I will not go with you. I don't want to go yet."

"Nonsense," the Grim Reaper replied, upset, raising the scythe towards her. "You are going, and there's no objection." He had thought she wouldn't be like other humans because of her slight bravery, but he guessed wrong; these humans always...

"It is your time. Why did you kill yourself if you knew you wanted to stay here longer?"

She smiled, her gaze fixed into oblivion, though it was as if she was watching his scythe raised at her. "I do not like the life I was brought into. I need another life."

"Say that to the judge when you get to the afterlife," he murmured.

She smiled, getting up from her bed. "Indeed, but I cannot guarantee that he will let me live again." Her gaze traveled to the window, where the wind billowed in, swaying the blue curtains.

"Human," the Grim Reaper said, bored. "Stop talking. I am taking your soul with me."

"No, you are not," she said calmly, turning back to him.

There was something about her confidence that angered him. "Shut up!" he roared, sending a rush of power to his scythe and raising it to her face.

The glow increased, reaching her face. But as her face illuminated with the light, he caught her huge smile before everything went blank.

A few hours later, the Grim Reaper knelt at a cemetery, the moonlight illuminating the whole place, revealing carved names on graves. The area was filled with mist circling the grounds.

"Dammit," the Grim Reaper cursed, clenching his hand into the muddy ground. "What has happened?"

His hand, which should have been in his skeleton form, was now filled with flesh, human flesh. Something had gone wrong. He had lost the soul as well as his scythe, and he had been trapped in the mortal world. He stood up slowly, and the cloak fell from his head.

Black, long hair reaching his shoulders swayed. His now human face was beautifully carved, with a pointed nose and narrowed dark eyes that exuded darkness. Well-carved cheekbones accentuated his features. Despite his handsomeness, his face was grimaced with anger.

This had never happened to him before, and unless he found his scythe and that soul, he would never return. And if he didn't return... he inhaled sharply.

Damn that human!!!!!!!!