AN: I haven't even started yet and this book is already ranked #102 in afterdeath O.O
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Reaper considers his powers as curse.
In a world where technology has taken over the lives of both monsters and humans, the concept of a curse has been reduced down to a mere myth.
But even so, it didn't stop Reaper from believing that he was, indeed, cursed ever since he was born.
Everything he touched dies within an instant. Turned to dust before his very eyes.
Due to his unusual magic, he was feared. Everyone avoids him, hates him, blames him for every single unfortunate things that happens to the people around him. They considers him bad luck bringer.
They dubbed him 'Death'.
Death grew up not knowing what it is to feel loved, to be cared for, nor a simple affection.
All he knows was grief and sorrow. Disgusted glares and spiteful words thrown at him.
Death isolated himself as he fell into a deep depression.
In an attempt to cope, Death discarded his feelings. He grew cold and merciless. He began to fight back against those who hurt him. He kills them.
At a young age, he was known as a psychotic murderer, although the police couldn't arrest him. Because he was an exception to the law.
His genetic code was identified as 'Grim Reaper', therefore, it was his nature to kill. This piece of information, somehow, delighted Death. He could kill whomever he wants and he won't get in any trouble.
But instead of doing so, he joined the police force. He trained for years and effortlessly climbed up the rank ladder. He became the youngest Chief Cop of Police in history.
He made a name for himself. He was known as a merciless killing machine. Death the Grim Reaper.
Death has it all: money, power, and popularity.
But even then, he was not satisfied.
He wants something.
Something he wants from the very beginning yet he could never have. He wanted to feel the thing called love.
No matter how many maids and butlers he hires, he just couldn't feel it. Their service was emotionless. Loveless.
Death wanted something -someone who would make him feel... alive. Someone who would see past his cold demeanor and see the real him. The lonely him hiding underneath the tough facade.
Someone who would hold him and give him affection that he was starved for.
But deep down he knew, it was impossible.
His mere touch kills any living thing. It would be suicide if anyone was willing to hold his hand.
That was until, someone actually did exactly as that.
It was when Death was walking aimlessly through the busy street, head bowed and just plainly ignoring the world around him, lost in train of thoughts and drowning in loneliness.
It was an unexpected moment when someone gently grabbed in hand.
Death snapped back to reality as he stopped dead on his tracks. Eye sockets wide as he turned his head to his side to find a smaller skeleton with red scarf around his neck.
The smaller one seems like in some sort of a daze. There was a purple discoloration under the smaller skeleton's only eye.
Just one look, and Death knows that this monster was suicidal. Death's expression falters. It's too late to back out now, he already touches him. He'll die within seconds. Savoring the moment of foreign feeling of holding someone else' hand, but with a looming sense of dread. Death tightened his hold on the other.
Death's slight motion seemed to snap the smaller one back to reality as he immediately let go and profusely apologize with a deep blue blush adorning his face, then left in a hurry.
"No wait!" Death called as he reached out for the other. But the smaller one didn't even turn his head back, he just keep running away until he was out of sight.
Only then, Death belatedly realized: he didn't die.
In both shock and bewilderment, Death ran after him.
He ran and ran, eyes scanning the area, searching for a familiar red scarf.
But he lost him.
The only one who didn't die of his touch, the skeleton with glitch over his eye, was lost in the sea of crowd.
To be continued...
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Day 1: complete!
