Excuse me if this chapter makes no sense. I’m seeing blurs right now.

++I’ll edit later btw this is super crappy ugh++

His house made Buckingham Palace look like a dollhouse.  It would have taken us at least three weeks to cover Lord Death’s thirty floored, glass walled, steel staircased monstrosity.  Once we reached his office, Isaac wasted no time in admiring the prized possessions hanging.   

Meanwhile, Lord Death’s red chair was arched back, holding onto every word as I explained to him about the demon leakings and the Cold Blood invasion at the Eagles.  Grim stayed obediently by my side, arms behind him.

His hard stare kept my hairs prickling up, the gaze a natural chill maker. I attempted to be casual under this matter but I knew he could feel my nervousness.  “…and Isaac is turning into the Purge, thus transforming me into a human,” I concluded. 

“Hm.” He paused a second longer and then glanced down. He flipped through his previously open booklet and said, “A witch is visiting tomorrow to work on the piping.  She can switch back the demon souls and the human DNA, placing you and Isaac back to normal. However—“ He leaned closer, bringing Grim and I a smidge forward.  “These demon leakings are getting serious.” A splash of sincerity landed on his face. “And I’m glad you have warned me about the Cold Bloods.  They cannot get onto the mainland or else a war would start. I will arrange a team; a plan will be announced tomorrow.”  Although he sounded collected, I could sense the anxiety strumming his nerves.  “The Cold Bloods should be stopped immediately.”

Grim and I respectively nodded.

A wince travelled across the room and we glimpsed to see Isaac hopping on the spot, clutching his toe.  A goblin head was rolling to a stop beside him, it’s frozen face of laughter nearly causing me to shiver. 

“We should keep him somewhere safe.  Where the other demons won’t attack him.”  Lord Death stood up, but Grim stepped forward in protest. 

“No, no. I’ll escort him. It is the least I can do for intruding on such short notice.” 

Lord Death shook his head and waved Grim off.  “Nonsense.  I will take care of the boy. You and your girlfriend—”

“We’re not dating!” I loudly cut. 

Ignoring me, he finished, “can rest in the west chambers.”

I flinched.  “Isaac is my human. I should be the only one telling him what to do—”

“Hatter. That is all. You are dismissed.” 

Infuriated, I clenched my fists and stormed out of the office.  I was busting down the echoing hallway, the tall ceilings not helping congest this steaming anger.  “Such a bossy pants…why doesn’t he—he—he just jump off a bridge or something!” 

“You sound like my neighbor’s teenage daughter,” said an amused voice.

I caught Grim matching my long strides, clearly fine with this arrangement. My blood began to boil.  “What-ever!”  

He nearly doubled over. “Do you need some tampax for that attitude?”

I quickened my steps with a huff. “Shut up!” 

“Are you on your menstrual cycle?” He wiggled his blond brows. “Or on demon terms, are you on your monstrous cycle?” 

“How ‘bout I shove a monstrous tampax down your throat!”

“That’d be a bloody mess!” 

“Just…just…just go die!” 

“I think you’re ovary-acting.”

I immediately stopped on the spot and deadpanned. “Period jokes. End. Now.” 

“One more?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He still heard me huffing. “Can you just chill for a moment? ‘Cause your cheeks are looking a little red.”

“You. Are. Going. To. Die.” 

His laughter soaked up any respect I once had for this rotten bastard.

Knowing this castle by heart, we reached the chambers, walls still downed in red paint (blood), and large photos of demon worshipping congesting the ceiling.

It was exasperating when all the doors were locked except for the one at the end. The exact one where Grim and I stayed when we arrived last year.

When we were still together. 

“This room looks familiar,” Grim chirped, shimmying past me and into the room.  He did a three sixty look and plonked on the king sized  heart shaped bed.  “Good memories in here.”

“Ugh. We’re not doing this.” I slammed the door harder than I meant and started unhooking my weapons, dropping them onto the desk. 

Grim laughed, flung his jacket and unbuckled his own weapons, tossing them off the bed.  “Does this bring back any memories?”

“No,” I jetted out.  My finger pointed to the floor, “And you’re sleeping there. I’m sleeping on the bed.” 

His scythe was placed by his socks.  “What’s the harm in sleeping beside each other? We’ve done it before.”

“Before,” I reminded, setting down a roll of grenades. 

A grin twitched on the edge of his lips.  That familiar warmth snuck up my spine and I mentally scolded these god damn teenage hormones. “There’s nothing wrong with reminiscing, Alice.” 

I racked up a good laugh and scoffed, “Your humour never fails to amuse me.” 

His smile curled up to his eyes and he was already stripping off his shirt.  If I wasn’t slowly turning into a human, I would’ve been easily immune to this man’s body. But the odds weren’t in my favor so my gaze was left to linger, feeling hot and bothered.

I hated being part human.

Isaac.  The thought of him under Lord Death’s claws had me frightened.  It must’ve showed because Grim was suddenly embracing my body, wrapping his arms around my neck. I didn’t even hear him get up. “What’s wrong?” he mumbled through my hair. 

“Nothing,” I muttered against his bare chest. I felt his heart skip under my cheek and naturally pulled apart.  “I’m…I’m going to shower.” 

Before he could start a dispute, I slipped off my boots and headed to the ceramic bathroom that once smelled of sex.

I scrubbed my hair, imagining my nails were scratching off these horrific emotions welled inside. How Isaac was doing, if he was safe, if the switch tomorrow was going to work, if I should rekindle my old love with Grim, if I would ever meet my supposed father—the world ending.  My head took the beating of jetting water, hoping to wash it all off. 

I was a walking prune by the time my feet were on the skinned buffalo rug.  I smeared the foggy mirror with my curled fist. Dark hair clung to my skin, makeup smudged under my eye.  I lightly brushed my fingers over the swarm of spotted red blotches, where the water was once harshly pelting. I tried my best to swipe the makeup with my fingers, revealing my baggy eyes. My skin was…unhealthy.

Startled by this ugly realization that turning human would mean I wouldn’t have goddess skin, I felt that wave of consciousness. Jesus. Teenagers think too much.   

Desperate to change the topic, I persuaded myself that Grim might’ve wanted to shower so I hurriedly slid into the black silk pajama pants and shirt from the linen.  I returned with dripping hair.

Surprisingly, he was already on the floor rug, tucked under a warm quilt, hands crossing over on his stomach.  He was staring at the ceiling until I walked in.  “And she lives. I thought you died.” 

I made a fake laugh and dashed under my own covers, finding that the idea of socializing was a scary thing. I clicked the lamp off, enveloping the room in darkness. I concluded the single way to get over these feelings was to wait for tomorrow; all problems would be confronted.  Turning on my side, I placed a hand under my pillow and curled into a ball.  The words popped out my mouth before I could think, “Grim, do you still need to be naked before bed?” 

“Of course, babe. You know me too well.” The sound of him chuckling had me gripping the covers. Yet I was naturally smiling.  Done with these obscure events, I closed my eyes and allowed the coat of sleepiness to rest over.

“Night, Grim,” I yawned.

“Night, Alice,” he smiled.

The covers shifted.

“Hey Alice?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do tampons have strings?” Silence. “So you can floss after you eat!”

+++

The blanket was over my head. Suffocating under the hot stench of my sweat, I ripped it off and kicked the heavy sheet onto the floor.  The sense of ease not anywhere in sight, I brushed my damp hair back and tried to breath. 

I couldn’t.

I hardly realized my hands were shaking in violent jerks.  Frightened, I tried forcing them to stop but they kept twitching.  Then I felt someone’s scream. Feeling another one’s scream was like choking on your own breath, a fist plunged down your throat, stuck there and you couldn’t make a sound. My own mouth was open, feeling this scream, face stretched, tonsils ringing. But no noise.

Tears were stinging my eyes, and I didn’t know how long I could last without oxygen. I felt like the demon souls were climbing out of my bones, swimming through my flesh before slitting my skin to escape through. Like tiny band aids were being ripped off me all at once, exposing tiny holes.

In my head, I suddenly hear their scream, loud and clear.

Isaac.

The screaming force shot out of my mouth and my hands dropped to my sides, and I fell limp on the sheets. The connection still lingered, and I noticed I was slicked with perspiration. But it wasn’t my fear—he was scared. Isaac was in danger.

My heart frantically skipped, and my hand caught air before tugging on the lamp. 

That boy was tattooed in my mind. I needed to see him. But I had no idea where Lord Death placed him.

Worried, I hastily suited up, my mind on full alert. I fastened the weapons, and then heard a whistle of wind just outside our door. I froze. 

One second passed.

Two.

Three.

The door split in half and Grim jolted awake, his scythe flying onto his opening hand. A white flash was across my vision and for a moment, he was a blur until he zipped back into his human form, now fully dressed.  

Still on alert, I swiftly threw one knife and stabbed the intruder’s neck. One noticeable pair of black eyes was the only hint I needed. 

“They’re here.”

Cold Bloods crawled through the door, scrambling across the ceiling, the floor, and the walls. I unsheathed the claws gleaming past my nails, and slashed the first demon’s neck. The adrenaline spiked up my blood and I angrily hissed.

A demon dog returned with his own growl and leaped forward. I caught it’s head in midair and latched onto the tail, and pulled him apart. It’s skull bobbed out like a slinky and I grabbed onto the spine attached to it.

“Three o’clock!” I shouted.

Grim cut a demon before dodging to the left. I clubbed the sneaky demon with the dog’s skull and whipped it back around, knocking out another.

Mutated animals of all kind swarmed the honeymoon avenue, blood splashed across the heart shaped bed. I wrestled open a dog’s jaw, and tossed a bomb down it’s throat to then chuck it at the herd of one testicular sheep.

I crashed on the other side of the bed for cover as the explosion struck the room.  Rolling back onto my bare feet, my eyes lit in surprise at the charging cow.

I flopped backwards, it’s horns pinning me to the bed. A leechlike tongue started swirling out, reaching close to my face before I bit into it. I grinded the tongue under my teeth like it was the next Hubba Bubba and it agonizingly moaned. I kicked the cow utters and with less pressure, I wiggled my fingers over my knife strapped to my leg and stabbed it in it’s stomach.

“Oh McDonald had a farm, E, I, E, I, O!”

I shifted over to see Grim singing as he shot a demon chest.  Sickened, I threw the cow at the wall and kicked a sheep.  “Although you find this fun, we have to get out of Hell. It’s going to be overflown soon!”

He grunted and twisted his scythe inside an arm. “Mhmm. Working on it.”

I removed my hair tie off my wrist and it melted into the whip, tangling around a group of three headed pigs. “We have to get Isaac first!”

“What?!” He punched a mutated horse in the eye. “We are not getting Isaac. Shouldn’t we be saving Lord Death.” 

I tugged on the whip, the rope cutting through the pig guts like butter. “We’ll split up. I’ll get Isaac and you can get Lord Death.”

“We are not splitting!”

I dashed up the wall and nailed a heel into a neck. “Fine, Mr. Overprotective! But we’re getting Isaac first!” I slashed my way to the door until it was blocked by an abnormally gigantic, crazily mutated, steroid ingested, red feathered chicken. “Grim, honey, did you order KFC tonight?”

“No, babe. I didn’t!” A demon screamed wailed where he was.

I snatched the table lamp off the floor, dug through the sack and lit a match on it, holding up the flaming bulb.  The chicken furiously clucked, fangs growing past its beak.  I leaped onto a horses back, and bounced off, striking the bulb at the chicken’s eye. It madly clucked and flapped it’s wings, hitting me to the ground. 

I crashed onto the ground, a sudden pain erupting on my shoulder. Wincing, I buried the ache and climbed to my feet. More Cold Blood animals were growling behind the big bird.  Releasing a hiss, Grim instinctively tossed me his scythe and I flung him my gun. Then I commenced a slaughtering blitz. Moving past bites and chomping teeth, I returned them with blood splattering slays, and soon big bird was in view.  I slid under the flapping wing and whipped the scythe around like a skilled maniacal butcher, swipe after swipe done in a blink.

I sliced the chicken leg off and shoved it up a demon’s ass, painfully twisting it before stabbing it’s back with my other hand. Eliminating my knife from the juices, the chicken suddenly broke down in a mountain of sliced pieces.

I swung the leg around, whacking a demon as Grim and I finally made it out of the room.  I ran towards the connection between Isaac and I, Grim hustling beside.  He arched a brow at the chicken leg in my hand. “Ain’t nothang but a chicken wang.”

I ignored his terrible humour and forced myself to speed up. I allowed the magnetic feeling of the connection pull me past the corner, down the stairs.  There were screams bouncing off the ceilings, propelling us to go faster.

We ended up in the food storage, the connection stronger.  It was as if I was attached by a string and I could sense Isaac’s frustration. My heart was in frenzy. Rotten corpses hanged upside down, gently swaying from chains as we slinked around them.  Spotting a latch below, I bent down and clicked it open, lifting the lid for Grim. We scaled down, boots gingerly descending the ladder. The light was brighter as we progressed.

On the last step, I turned around. The air escaped out of my lungs.  My knees buckled, my hand catching on the ladder before I limply fell to the ground.  “No.” 

“Alice! Are you okay?!” Grim frantically peered over his shoulder to see me shaken, hands trying to scramble back.

There was Isaac, arms and legs chained, his body a huge X. He was thrashing and screeching on the chains, body pumping up and down, muscles bulging from his straining shirt.   

Eyes closed while struggling to fight his way out of the chains, they abruptly opened and I screamed. 

+++

So Alice shoved a chicken leg up someone’s ass.

Let’s hope you’re a vegetarian.

Yeah, so the letter O on my keyboard fell off while I was writing this chapter. It’s really hard to type without a key. You now have to click this tiny little button and I have terribly hand-eye coordination so I always miss.

Plus, it’s past 1am on a school night. Sigh. Sacrifices I make for Wattpad.

So did you see any of that coming?

Grim is the GIF above. 

Love you and thank you so much for clicking here!

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FUN FACT: I was listening to Pocketful of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield when writing this. It was so controversial—I found it funny.

Sick sense of humour. Sorry again. :P OK, not really. I need sleep. BYE!

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