Grim Spiritson walked through a small town in the Vermont. He stood ankle deep in snow. Grim looked around. The town, Golan, was in the middle of nowhere. All there was for miles were trees and forest.
Grim shivered because it was cold. Another reason to hate being mortal was the cold. That's right; the grim reaper, Death himself, had been turned mortal as punishment for being tricked by a human. He still remembered his father's words the Grim's powers were taken.
"You will learn about humanity by walking among them."
Grim kept walking through the small town. He came to what looked like a hotel. The only difference was it was much smaller than regular hotels. Then again, Golan was much smaller than regular towns. The hotel was painted a brown color with a red roof.
There was a graveyard next to the hotel. Grim started to walk towards the graveyard. There was something odd about it.
Then, a thirteen year old girl walked out of the hotel. She had red hair and a cocky glint in her green eyes. She reminded Grim of another soul he'd taken a while back. The girl wore a pair of worn blue jeans, a black sweater with a couple of holes, and a mischievous smirk. A pair of old brown furry boots adorned her feet.
The girl saw Grim moving towards the graveyard. She started to strut closer to him. Grim looked at the girl.
"Hey kid, you might not want to go in there" the girl said.
Grim looked around. He wasn't used to being called kid. However, as part of the mortal experience, Grim looked about twelve in bodily age. He had dark black hair and nerdy black glasses. He wore a pair of old blue jeans and an oversized grey sweatshirt. He hated being so young.
"Kid, you hear me?" the girl asked.
"What's your name?" Grim asked the girl.
"I'm Berry" the girl replied.
"So, why shouldn't I go in there?" Grim asked.
"It's haunted," Berry replied.
"Haunted," Grim questioned, "it seems like an ordinary graveyard to me."
"There are ghosts" Berry exclaimed.
Grim knew about ghosts. Often they weren't real. However, on the offhand chance ghost myths were real; it was caused by restless souls. Grim knew very much about souls. He was the grim reaper, after all. Grim knew that if the ghosts were caused by restless spirits, then he would have to help the souls move on.
Grim plodded into the graveyard. He was nervous, though, he didn't know why. Maybe he was worried about being ridiculed by spirits for being in such a childish form. Or maybe he was scared of the danger that the graveyard radiated.
Either way, Grim plodded into the graveyard and looked around. Pretty soon, a white light appeared by a tombstone. The light took the form of a large man. He was all white, like he was albino. The man looked at Grim, murder in his eyes.
"Who are you?" the man spat.
"I am Death," Grim replied, "who are you?"
"That's none of your business, kid" the man replied.
"Your soul is restless," Grim observed, "let me help you."
"No" the man snarled.
The man took out a gun and shot at Grim. The bullets wouldn't affect a normal mortal, but Grim wasn't normal. Grim quickly jumped out of the way of the bullet. He knew what he had to do. Grim looked up at soul, his eyes ablaze. Grim pulled out a small knife from his pocket. Grim started to glow and the knife turned into a four foot tall scythe.
"Wow," Berry, who had been watching silently, exclaimed. "What are you?"
"I am Death" Grim replied solemnly.
Grim took the scythe used it to deflect another bullet. The man was firing bullets and yelling curses at Grim.
"Damn you, bastard" the man exclaimed.
Grim took his scythe swung it. He cut the man in half. The man disappeared in a flash of white light, a scowl in his face. Grim looked at the man.
"And now your soul will rest in peace" Grim smiled.
The smile looked out of his place on his face. Then, Grim fell to the ground writhing in pain. His powers always tired him out. Berry ran over to Grim. The boy was in obvious pain. Grim looked at Berry and was vaguely aware of her presence. Finally, darkness overcame him, and Grim passed out.