*See character list in previous chapter*

HEY, REAPERS! *waves frantically*

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Being held by the corpse of a mythical fallen angel, who was currently controlled by some external force, was certainly not the most relaxing experience of my life.

But hey, at least he wasn't trying to eat me.

Death's corpse's pierced tongue flicked out and traced my lips, tasting the saltiness of my skin, and warmth spread throughout my body.

Christ on a cracker, I was getting turned on by a monster. How could I not? The guy was hot, even when he'd had a cloak covering every muscular inch of him. Now I could actually see some freaking skin. Well, the skin around Death's silver mask, that had been beneath that cloak all along, was absolute perfection. Michelangelo himself carved his straight nose and angular his jaw, which was shadowed with dark, delicious stubble. His lips were full and had two silver hoop piercings. This is not him, I kept reminding myself, and tore my gaze away from the empty beast. Still, I felt torn between leaning into his wicked touch and cringing back because my life was endangered.

The audience surrounding us, filled with humans and creatures with illusions, looked confused at what was happening. Some of them, I overhead, thought this was another act. This was not an act. My life was in the hands of a hungry, immortal monster and I was helpless.

Well, maybe I wasn't. I had that crazy laser beam power that I had no fucking control over. And apparently, I could access

"Freeze the humans! Nobody moves!" I heard Devin Star, aka Lucifer (I was still getting used to this), bark from the edge of the crowd. His tanned, flawless facial features were carved into concern. "Everything's going to be alright, Faith." He started to edge towards us. "Just don't... move."

Death's corpse turned over his shoulder and hissed at Devin, making Lucifer himself stop in his tracks. Death had massive fangs that were like white daggers, and I didn't want to think about what he used them for. Letting out another warning hiss in Devin's direction, he grabbed the back of my neck with one clawed hand and took me with him to another area of the dance floor. His cheekbones, covered with thick costume makeup, seemed to sharpen as he scanned the rest of the audience. Someone had taken the time to get him into costume and hide his body from plain sight. This was planned. I was captured in plain sight by Death's body and now he seemed to be...waiting...for orders.

Up close, his eyes were too alien and terrifying to be real. They were almond shaped with two mismatched iridescent irises, minty green and a deep emerald. His pupils were thin and slanted vertically like a cat's. Those eyes had haunted my dreams and my nightmares before and now they were too close, rapidly dilating as he stared unblinkingly at me, like a predator who was pleased with his catch.

"Death," I whispered to the beast in front of me, my voice slightly trembling. "It's Cupcake. Remember me?" His pupils swelled as I spoke and he inclined his head, listening intently. "I know someone is controlling you right now, but you don't have to hurt me. I'm your friend. We're friends. Kinda..."

Vacant Death's chest vibrated and he leaned into inhale again at my throat. When I tried to move my head away and felt those claws unhappily dig a little into my skin. He growled, real low in his throat, and the whooshing in my ears became deafening.

In that moment, I realized as horrifyingly beautiful as Death's eyes were, they were absolutely lifeless and empty because Death's soul was not in his body. I had a gut feeling that, whoever did have control over Death's body, wasn't giving it demands at moment. Which meant that whatever part of Death was left over right now, as he was holding me at the center of the dance floor, was purely animal. And hungry. And there he was, holding me captive and practically basing and seasoning me with his tongue in preparation for an evening Faith roast.

If I ever made it out alive from that damn D & S moneymaker party, I swore a private oath to ask Death what the fuck he really was.

I made the decision to hitch my gaze the silver material of his mask, and that's when I was finally able to hear the conversations going on around me again. It was as if Death's eyes had hypnotized me and I'd been momentarily absorbed into another world.

"You're going to get Ace's head ripped off," Devin hissed off to the side, and ever so slightly, I turned my head towards his voice. Instead of looking at Devin, I met two saucer-sized, vibrant violet eyes. Ace the warlock. When Death's soul had been ripped from his body and tossed into Limbo, he'd been forced to possess Ace's body to get back to earth and retrieve his corpse. Now it was clear in the pasty color of Ace's skin and the way his eyes looked sunken in, that there wasn't much time left until Death could get back to his body.

"Faith," Ace began, carefully stepping towards us. I could tell by his tone and his expression that he could tell whom, or better yet, what was holding me. He'd probably put two and two together while I'd been having a staring contest with his corpse. "I'm going to try to distract...well, myself. As soon as you get the opportunity, I need you to run like hell. No matter what happens, you have to run. My body is wasting away and whoever is controlling it hasn't given it permission to eat."

I wanted to run far, far away, but Death's claws felt like daggers at my back, keeping me in place.

I decided to reply out loud. "How am I supposed to do anything," I told Ace, pausing for a moment when Death's corpse's alien eyes widened curiously at the sound of my voice, "when his–your claws want to play operation with my spine."

"I repeat from our earlier discussion," Ace began, "maybe if you gave him, aka me, more affection, he, aka me, wouldn't act out like he is now. I mean, look at him." Ace motioned to the green-eyed creature in front of me. "Look how confused your whining makes him. He's not even trying to eat you anymore."

I looked up at the beast pinning me to his chest. He did look rather confused.

"You are unbelievable!" I hissed at Ace.

Ace promptly turned to Devin. "Change of plans, Devilino. I say we let me eat her. Me looks famished and Faith is a plump juicy stake. If he eats her, he probably won't eat the guests. Problem solved–"

"Would you quit it?!" Devin finally exploded. "Faith's life is in danger! Let's try not to jeopardize the whole room, too!"

"Fine," Ace sighed. "Shall I do the honors?" He answered his own question before Devin could and grabbed a glass from a nearby table, and a fork. He tapped the glass with the fork repeatedly. "Hey. Yo! Hey, ME! Over here, sexy!"

Death's mismatched gaze hitched towards Ace, before whipping back around to check behind him. I followed his gaze and took in the broad and tall man who had appeared out of nowhere. The model's dark brown and blonde highlighted hair was styled with gel, curling slightly behind his ears. His expression was cold and his head was tilted slightly down to his chest. He clenched his jaw and suddenly, a ring of black fire raged from the ground and formed a wall around him, Death's body, and me. Devin, Ace, and the audience's voices were all muffled over the crackling of the flames.

The male model stepped forward. I, and the rest of Chicago, knew him as David Star. He was the vice president of the D & S towers, an elite advertising agency (aka Hell) and the face behind multiple clothing lines and gossip magazines. David Star had been a name Death created and a mask that he wore.

And this was where it got complicated. This man before me now was not David Star. In fact, he was not a man at all– he was Ahrimad, a powerful entity. I'd learned, through the pendent around my neck, that Ahrimad was the original Grim Reaper, who had tricked young Death thousands of years ago to free him from a mirror prison.

Ahrimad had offered young Death a fate: one day, Death would be given the choice to kill him in battle. He would not remember who Ahrimad was. If Death chose to take his life, he would become the next Grim Reaper. Needless to say, he had killed Ahrimad, and for turning him into a soul-eating monster, Death trapped Ahrimad's sprit into his cloak. Ahrimad's image was Death's strongest illusion. When Death wore his cloak, he was quite literally wearing Ahrimad's face, and thus, his alter ego, David Star was born.

However, Ahrimad gained his both his image and gained the ability to take physical form, once Death was separated from in and tossed into Limbo. By the looks of it, Ahrimad not only had the power to take physical shape, but also gained Death's scythe–which, by the way, I knew limited information about.

"Looks like you're in quite the predicament," Ahrimad said and then hitched his attention to Death's body. He made a slight movement with the scythe and it glowed slightly. "Kneel, Alexandru."

Death's corpse stepped away from me, gawking at the scythe like a brainless zombie. He knelt to the ground in front of Ahrimad and waited.

"Fück," I said.

"Fuck, is right." Ahrimad turned his beautiful head to me and smiled, real unfriendly-like. "I have a proposition that will greatly interest you, Faith Williams. If you value the lives of the people in this room, that is."

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Ah, so there it is, Reapers! The first chapter of DIMBFFLAD. A slow start and only a little taste, but believe me, things are about to get CRaAzZzYyyYYy. ;)

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