—Your POV—

"Sooooo, how much experience do ya have with gardening huh?" Reaper floats around you as you tug on some heavy duty boots. "Personally, none, but first time for everything right?" 

You decide to ignore his rambling and make your way to the door, steeling your nerves for whatever horrors you'll face. Everyone already agreed to keep their lips (or rather, teeth) shut tight, because technically you're not supposed to go outside. You're sure you'd get your fair share of hell if word reached Nightmare anyways. 

Trying not to think about it too much, you trudge outside, immediately caught off guard by the spooky scary scenery. Curling, thorny bushes reach out onto a hard, concrete trail. Leafless trees with long, wicked branches overhead, shadows cast like hands reaching out to snag your soul. 

None of the flora, no matter how stunningly creepy, can top the large, beautiful cyan moon in the sky, painting everything below with its bluish hue. Winking stars in the sky twinkle and spark, some are white, others are a complementary yellow, some even as blue as the moon. The sky is dim, but not horribly dark. Perhaps this is what evening looks like out here. 

"Babe, eyes on the prize." Gloved hands cup your cheeks and turn your eyes up to Reaper's face. When he grins, you deadpan, rousing a chuckle from him. 

"Yeah, no." You playfully bat him away, chuckling. "Our only prize in that turkey." You looked around, picking up on a stray scent. It smells kind of like the spices you put on the giant bird. 

"Welp, go on and use that sniffer of yours to locate it eh?" He tapped your nose with a cheeky grin. Impish he was, after that hellish conversation. "We can sneak out and count the stars later, you little sack of flesh." 

"Sack of flesh?" You echo, wrinkling your nose at the odd new moniker as you follow the trail with your nose. "What the hell kinda nickname is that?" You snort, trying to come up with something equally morbid. "Thou meatless being." 

"It's what everyone else calls you." He muses, watching you try your best to avoid the sharp, prickly spines on the bushes. "I think." 

"Hard pass." You say, rounding a corner. "Horror calls me Cupcake, Nightmare calls me Pet, or if he's pissed, Shitcake. Killer calls me— HEY! The turkey!"

It's right there, in a small, cleared spot between bushes. Reaper stops floating, a low grumble coming from him as you step over there carefully. 

"Don't be chicken, get over here." You glare at him until he rises a few feet from the ground, floating up and above the bushes to spectate from above your head. "Better."

"I have a bad feeling about this actually." Reaper informs you, tap tapping your shoulder. You just sigh and shoo him away. 

"Just chill out." You say, brushing off the concern. "If anything goes wrong, just use that magic you fancy so much." Ok, maybe that was jealousy speaking. "Trust me on this." 

You get no more protest as you bend over to pick up the turkey and its plate. Your fingers grip the edges, and you give it just the slightest tug when—

Vines rip free from the ground and snatch your arms. A flower jumps up out of the ground and roars at you venomously. You squeal, trying to stumble backwards and failing, instead falling onto your rear with all your efforts. 

"What'd old Reaper say huh?" The vines are cleaved right off. There's nothing but blackness in his eye sockets as the scythe splits clean through the thick roots. "I think I've been around long enough to know when something's wrong." 

You scramble to your feet and drill your floral assailant with a fiery glare. "What the hell was that for?!" You're halfway behind Reaper, staring at it and the way it's hunched greedily over the turkey, black orbs with white pinpricks glowering right back at you. 

"Who the hell are you?!" The thing spat, clearly bad tempered and vile. "I haven't seen your ugly mug around here once! And I'm glad I haven't!" It snarked, earning a scoff from you. 

"Look here weed, we just need our turkey back." Reaper speaks calmly, leaning down to better converse with the little plant. "Give it up, and I won't have to do my job." 

"WEED!?" The floret shrieks, offended. "I'm THORN!! And I'll have you know this is my garden!" He shouts, petals sharp and jagged as he speaks the words with a vicious tone.

"Hell it is." Reaper winds up, scythe over his shoulder as Thorn's eyes widen. Just before the flower and the scythe connect, the little scamp is underground, hidden well. You almost miss it with how quick it is. "Coward." 

Reaper bends down and picks up the tray in one hand, looking to you. 

"Y'know, you'd think I deserve some credit for saving as many lives as I take every day." He floats ahead of you, over the prickly bushes as you make your way through them. "But no one ever acknowledges that part. Some people need to die, but most don't want to, so I just get painted as a bad guy." 

His voice carries a hint of agitation, as you recognize this as a similar expression to what he said to you earlier. Just what is he getting at though huh? What does he want to say without saying it?

"I take people who want to die too, and people no one likes, and people who get death wished upon them everyday." He makes it to the door, lagging a minute to speak a few more words of his mind. "Sometimes, it's like I'm the only one who gets all this, and you know, I'm sick of it." 

Black eye sockets turn on you. That lazy grin is replaced by an impatient frown. 

"I need you to get it too." 

He turns away, you're freed from that pressing gaze as you make your way inside. Ready to reassume your quiet lunch. You're ready to go back to mindlessly joking around, forget about the universe and the end it might come to. 

You're ready to go back to blissful ignorance about the fate that awaits. 

~~~~~~~~~~

What the hell is bro getting at Omg

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

- De Moogus