Fog, everywhere. The moist teeny bits of water clung to her face, making her nose itch. The electricity of the pea-soup-fog breathed, almost giving her the impression of being inside of a living being. She had that half-annoyed feeling that everyone gets in humid weather, just when the hair begins to get sticky and impossible. She began to walk, her steps echoing like claps into a canyon. The floor gave a cool gray gleam; from as much light as she could see, which seemed to be coming from both everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It looked like the surface of lucid water, just ready for the doe to take its morning drink. And as the fog cleared ever so slowly, she could make out the dimmest figure out in the distance… and still there was the abyss of slick floor, fog, and the most stifling lack of any point of reference to which she could measure how far she had come. It was almost dizzying.

Whoosh! A sudden gust of air plummeted her, full force, practically bruising her, and knocking her who-knows-how-far back on her path. She squeezed her eyes shut for a split second. And then BOOM! The almost deafening rumbling thunder came at her with full force, knocking her even further back. A radiating noise came shivering/booming at her, demanding, attacking, and preparing for battle, all at once. And then the voice said these words as if they were one:

“Skibbity the flowerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs of bibbity and sprrah la la the beeeeeeeeeeperrrrs ssssssssqwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…”

Pluto turned a very confused face up at the nonsensical blurt that this apparition had apparently made.

“… Pardon?” The thing made a noise as if to clear its throat, and it was still the gray ominous outline far up ahead in the distance, though coming towards her painfully slowly. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that she’s been here before, been in the presence of this thing before.

Its laughter bounced off the invisible walls that surrounded them, and she jumped at the suddenness.

“I’m sorry, I like to make jokes.” The loud voice had a Transylvanian accent (AN: if you don’t know the Transylvanian accent, think of Dracula saying “I want to suck your blood” in that weird sing-song way and you’ll get the gist. Remember, the V’s replace the W’s and vice versa, in most cases. If that’s too hard just imagine a Scottish accent. That’s more fun anyway.). “On with business:” it continued, “Who are you and what is your reason for trespassing into my lair?” It finally reached just a few feet away from Pluto, and in its hand was a very large and sharp-looking scythe. This was the very image of the Grim Reaper, complete with the black robe, hood over face, and 7-foot height. Red glaring eyes peered at her from under the hood, looking as if they’d just seen a ghost. It tilted it head to the side in wonder.

Though this thing was indeed a very frightening entity, Pluto felt no need to be afraid of it. The scythe in its black-gloved hand would not dare draw her blood. The red eyes would not dare look upon her with scorn. The entire being would not dare hurt her in any way, not wish to. She sighed, shutting her eyes, and basking in the radiant safeness she felt around this large and evil-looking Death. Right at this moment, she felt at home, which she had never felt before in the depths of the Underworld. And the words poured out of her, before she could stop herself from opening her mouth.

“Familiar, oh, it’s been so long! My dear friend, it’s Pluto!” She rushed into her familiar’s awaiting arms, sobbing. Memories of her long-forgotten past came rushing back to her, squeezing her in a warm, but crushing embrace, bringing her to her knees as her best friend stroked her long hair soothingly.

“Remember, Master, remember.”  

Well hello again! WOW, it’s been quite a while since I’ve updated this one, huh? Yeesh. Sorry about the incredible shortness of this chapter. I’ve spent the last three days trying to remember what I wrote before in the story, and then figuring out what I should do to move forward. Probably the biggest reasons I started writing this one again were: 1) It’s spring break and when it tends to get very boring around the house I usually write (which is why summer is my biggest “writing season.”). 2) Tarnished Oversoul’s reviews were a big help. I never thought people even read my stories anymore, and now someone likes them?! This is almost too good to be true. Anyway, thanks a BUNCH, Tarnished Oversoul. When I get some time I’ll go and read some of your stuff, K? But right now I have to skee-daddle and get to winterguard practice! Oh yeah, and please tell me what you thought of this chapter. Buhbye!

- QueSeraSera