Demon's Hide

Lady Grim Reaper

Female Reader x Female Monster (WLW)

For the last few weeks, you've been coming to the park and sitting on the same bench, watching people and sometimes throwing bread for the birds. You've been doing this because it was what your grandfather always did. He would come, sit, watch, throw. This was his seat for the last few months of his life and you want to see that part for just a little bit before your life moves you along.

Although, you aren't alone on the bench. Not long after you started sitting there someone else started to come and sit beside you. They're tall and shadowed, their body draped all in black and face hidden by a large hood. At first, you didn't talk to them, it seemed a bit too macabre a situation. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone and you could hear Rod Serling whispering a monologue in your ear.

After a few days of sitting next to this strange figure, you can't help yourself. "Would you like some gum?" You feel utterly stupid in saying it, but it's the only conversation starter you can think of.

"No thank you," her voice is smooth and serene, "I don't particularly like gum."

"Oh," you eyes dart around the lines of her hood. "Uhm...I have some hard candy?"

"You don't look over sixty," she retorts, a smile in her voice.

You laugh and smile up at her, "I keep them as lozenges or to uhm...offer to strangers." You hold out a handful of assorted candies.

She turns slightly, but you can't see anything inside the hood. She reaches out, taking one of the candies, her hand looks strange but you can't put your finger on it. She looks at the candy in her hands then pulls back, never opening it.

"Why do you come here?" She asks.

"It's...silly I guess," you reply. "But my grandfather died recently and I come here to..." you hesitate as you look around, seeing that the park was slowly changing, the leaves once bright and green were dulling and changing colors. "I wanted to see through his eyes for a while," you continue, "so I don't have to say goodbye so soon."

"You two were close?" She asks.

"Not...really," you murmur. "Not anymore at least. I used to spend every summer with him and my grandmother."

Her head tilts forward slightly. "Then what happened?"

"My parents divorced, it was messy," you glance over at her. "Normal things really," you shrug it off. "I'm sorry I don't mean to keep talking about myself."

"It's quite alright," she murmurs, "I much prefer to listen to others' stories than talk about myself. I find it comforting."

"You would've liked my grandfather then. He was nothing but stories. He could talk all day and never run out of things to say."

"Do you miss that?"

"As a kid, I did, as an adult...I guess you forget how to listen at some point," you fidget with her hands, picking at the flaking nail polish.

"People are in such a hurry to live their life they forget that sometimes they need to stop. If you're always rushing things happen in a hurry, but if you take the time to stop and slow down, so does the world. It's all about how you choose to see things. Perhaps that's why your grandfather sat here. He chose to let things go slowly so he felt that he had all the time in the world."

You look out across the park again, feeling hot tears sting in your eyes.

"How do you feel sitting here?" She asks.

You wipe at your eyes and smile softly, "I feel peaceful."

She chuckles softly, "then perhaps that's all you needed."