Chioniphobia

Road

"What are we doing, exactly?"

Grim was used to meeting up with Sandy in some odd places- one memorable picnicking spot had been located halfway up a cliff- but they'd never hung out in someone else's house. They'd certainly never invaded a human's domain, not while it was still populated. Yet here they were, at the end of some long, dusk-grayed road, standing at the window of a cottage that had a child still inside, lying quietly in bed.

Sandy nodded at the window and gestured for Grim to enter. She scoffed.

"Why? Did someone die in there?"

(Not yet.)

"Not y...oh."

Sandy nodded.

Armed with this new information, Grim peered through the window at the blond-headed boy visible inside. Upon closer examination, Grim could see that the boy wasn't lying totally quietly- his body was trembling, and she could see his nose wrinkle with each sniffle.

"So send him off to dreamland. Why bring me along on your errands?"

Sandy pointed to her. She sputtered, half-laughing and half-choking. "What? What am I supposed to do, sing him to sleep?!"

(Whatever works,) Sandy replied, shrugging.

"Brother, dear, I don't think this child is going to want a lullaby from THE GRIM REAPER. I thought your aim was to give children sweet dreams, not nightmares!"

Sandy crossed his arms, and Grim sighed, knowing she'd lost the war before even waging a single battle. "Fine, fine. But don't blame me for all the damage you'll have to repair."

(What are you going to do, break the window?!)

"Psychological damage, my dear brother. Psychological."

Grim could've slipped through into the bedroom easily enough, but she decided to go around to the other side of the bedroom door instead. She checked around for any sign of parents or siblings, but all the other doors in the house were closed save for one that led to the bathroom, and the only light still on was a nightlight in the hallway.

She knocked, not too loudly. "May I come in?"

There was a rustling of blankets. "Mom?"

Despite not being given permission, Grim opened the door and slipped in, closing the entrance behind her. "Afraid not, my dear. Your mother's asleep yet."

The boy sat bolt upright, eyes wide as he took her in. Grim was suddenly very aware of how she must appear- a tall, gloomy specter with long black robes, a skeletal face, pointed teeth, hollow eyes. Perhaps she should've at least changed into something more casual first: it was a bit harder to be afraid of a ghoul when it was wearing a turtleneck.

"Are you a ghost?" the boy asked.

She smiled self-consciously, then remembered her teeth and stopped. "I suppose I am, sort of. I'm not going to haunt you or anything, though. This is a one-time visit."

The child pulled his legs up to his chest, resting his chin and arms on his knees. "Okay."

Grim rubbed her arm, biting her lip as she stood awkwardly. "Would you mind terribly if I sat down? I don't want to keep looming over you."

The little blonde nodded, and she sat down on the edge of his bed, extending a hand.

"I'm Grim. What's your name, dear?"

The boy shook the proffered hand with less hesitation than she'd expected. "Jeremy."

"Jeremy. A very nice name."