Eliza’s mother was trapped in the body of a puppet. Her arms and legs were strung up in strings so tight they’d lost feeling to all her limbs. Who was controlling the strings? How could anyone know. Before this happened, Eliza’s mother told her “everything happens for a reason”. Perhaps it was the doing of God.

Everyday Eliza came home, she’d drag magnets behind her, letting them attract rocks and pennies and what not. Since Eliza’s mother could no longer care for herself, Eliza was the primary caretaker. She’d open the door to find the home in disarray and her mother being flung around, getting bruises on her body while she stared at her daughter. Eliza was lucky her mother could no longer feel the pain. Eliza dumped her magnets down at the door and would drag her mother over to the bathroom, tending to the various bruises and cuts on her arms and legs. Eliza would feed her, bathe her, talk to her, and do other tasks her mother could no longer do.

Even when she had dumped off her magnets, some still stayed permanently stuck to her back. And if she ever wanted to leave, the rest would stick right back on her.

She struggled to walk around her own house, the magnets on her feet making her slow. She feared one day she’d be too slow, and she’d lose her mother, the only person she had left.

Everyday Eliza went to run errands, she’d meet men who would toss magnets at her. They’d stick to her face, run up her dresses, down her shirts. And everyday she’d bring them home.

Eliza wondered what the point of it all was. These magnets made her so heavy, and her mother could not protect her anymore. She didn’t even know what was going on.

Eliza snapped back to reality as her mother flailed in the bathtub, her arms and legs going up and down and spraying water everywhere.

There was no future for us now, Eliza thought to herself as she slowly put her mothers arms down and hummed a soft song as she bathed her, a small magnet sticking to her arm.

“She’s not who she say’s she is. When she tells you she’s a unforgiving monster, incapable of things such as love and friendship, it’s all a lie. She may believe it, but it’s not true. The truth is she is afraid. She is afraid of being hurt again, and she puts all his anger and fear and grief into her fists. She believes any problem can be solved using violence. She may act cynical and cruel, but the truth is she wants to believe the world is good. She wants to believe in me. But she can’t allow it. Because under all that muscle and fire and rage is a scared little girl.”

It’s the middle of November and I’m trudging through 3 feet of snow because, much to my dismary, bodies don’t burry themselves.

Her burnt corpse eminates steam as I drag her through the snow. It really was an accident. But not like the sheriff would believe me about that one.

I maybe pushed her toward the fireplace and her dress maybe caught on fire. It’s not my fault she was pushing my buttons.

I grunt as I look around the woods. It’s all white and black trees. We come to a big tree in the middle and I grab my shovel. I removed the snown until I can see the ground, then I lie her down. I dump the snow back ontop of her and exhale, relieved.

She’ll be bones by the time the snow melts.

I drag my shovel and trek through the snow as I hear the soft cooing of an owl.

After taking another ones soul, Grim look’s down at it’s clock on it’s boney wrist. The next one isn’t until… 20 minutes. Grim looks to the sky as it lowers It’s scythe and decides on a little stroll.

Despite being THE Grim Reaper, Grim’s always loved life. The beautiful, fragile flowers and the strong trees that protect them. The soft wild life that lives in this lovely forest.

15 minutes.

Grim’s hollow eye’s gaze up at the sky, and the bright sun shining down. A stark contrast to it’s black, grim appearance. Soon, winter will come, and everything will die. Then spring will come, and life will grow again. One day, the Sun will errupt, and life will disappear. And soon, a new star will appear. And life will grow again.

10 minutes.

Grim can’t feel the grass beneath it’s feet. They don’t necessarily exist on this mortal realm. But they’ve heard from local mortals how soft it is.

Soft. Life is so very soft.

5 minutes.

Why must mortals fear Death? Grim may look scary, but mortals cannot see it. What is so terrifying about the absense of existence? To Grim, it’s bliss. Quietness. Tranquility. Nothing is forever gone, afterall.

0 minutes.

Grim’s watch buzzes as it’s alerted of another soul to be taken.

Life goes on, and so does Death.

I’ve been living this war for 30 years. I always hoped my children wouldn’t have to live fearing loud noises or planes flying over head. Or coming home from school with tears in their eyes as they explained to me what happened to their dear friends.

I did my best. The best any mother could during war times. But it was never enough.

My oldest, Ali. Poor boy was just 17. The soldiers came with their guns and he threw himself infront of the younger children. He was so brave like that.

Arkham. My sweet boy. Those demons were throwing out bombs shaped like cans of food, knowing we were all starving.

Halima. My only daughter. She was just 9. The bombs hit our house and I could not find her under the rubble. There is no greater pain than begging the men who came to help to find my daughter, only for them to find her teeth.

I kept them in a gorgeous box I carried with me, lined with gold and inlaid with jewels. I tell people, “my children are in there.”

I kept all they’re teeth. It was all I could take. I wait for the day the bombs will take me, so Allah can take me away to live in Jannah with my children.

Del’s eyes shot open and her mouth opened in a gasp. Her hands twitched and gripped the ground, tiny pebbles and dirt digging into her skin. She was in a cave, sat by a small fire, which was burning a bouquet of lillies. There was a sharp pain in her side. Her eyes shot down to the arrow sticking out of her abdomen. There was a soft sound next to her, and she looked over to see a black lamb, staring at her with it’s red eyes. It bleeted again at her, and a piece of clothing fell out of its mouth. It looked like it’d been from her tunic. The small creature seemed to have dragged her here all by itself. Del grunted as she reached for the creature, softly stroking its black coat as tears fell from her eyes.

“Thank you…” Though, Aamon should have been thanking her. She was so pure, he could feel the love and innocence radiating from her palms as she caressed his coat. She’d make a fine vessel.

The 8th wonder of the world, located in Mexico, is known as Fingerprint. At first glance it looks like a massive crater. But scientists have discovered that in the crater are large grooves that swirl around eachother, like a fingerprint. Fingerprint is over 300 kilometers wide and over 400 kilometers deep. It quite literally looks like someone dug they’re finger into some dirt.

Fingerprints discovery has lead to a lot of questions. Mainly what else is out there? And was it really a meteorite that killed out the dinosaurs…?

When you came to this land, it was apparent of the Fae that lived in the woods surrounding your kingdom. And as your kingdom grew, the forest needed to move. And as the woods shrunk, the Fae’s became more of a nuisance.

“Erradicate them, my King.” You’d tell him. He’d take his guards and his knights and you’d watch from your bedroom as the woods burned.

And when the Mage’s entered your kingdom with they’re magic and frightening strength, you said:

“Eradicate them, my King.” And you’d watch as he took his knights and slaughtered them, one by one.

And when he’d come home from his killing, you’d take him to bed and whisper in his ear that he’d done a good thing today.

He would give you death, and you love him for it.

With every bad deed I do, my body changes.

I discovered this when I first killed my brother. I’m not sure what drove me to do it. He was so loud and I just wanted him to shut up for good.

My first kill was sloppy and messy. We were in he forest and I pulled out a gun on him. The gun we used for protection. Incase a bear or wild animal attacked us.

In that moment, Max WAS an animal. And I was the hunter.

I threw his body in the river. Cleaned the gun. Burned his clothes. Burned my own clothes. And no one ever found out.

Except… my hands began to change. My nails grew long and sharp and I began to grow fur around my knuckles.

My next victim was my boss. Once I killed him, my legs bent backwards and I gained an extra joint in my knees.

The third was my girlfriend. My eyes turned yellow and my pupils became black slits, like a cats.

The fourth was my friend. I gained a long, fluffy tail.

I’ve always found humans to be too dull. Some may view my new body as punishment. But I am stronger than I ever was.

Kurt perked up in his filthy cell as he heard screaming from what sounded like a young girl, and soon screaming from the men who caged him here. Soon, the girl came into sight being dragged by another man who tossed her into the cell next to Kurt. She screeched and thrashed and kicked and bit, making it unable to Kurt to see her face. The cell door closed and she continued to scream and chew on the bars. Kurt finally got a look at her face.

Her eyes were gone. Just… gone. Empty sockets with red scarring around them. She looked about his age. A friend.

“Hallo.” He greeted her in German. The girl panted and glanced over at the voice, noticing some heat coming from the boy. He expected her to flinch in horror but this girl was blind…

“…Hi.” She greeted in German.

“Those bars are strong.” The boy pointed with one of his three fingers, his tail tucked between his legs.

The girl nodded at him. Her blonde hair was long and matted. Her clothes were filthy with soot and some parts had been burned.

“…Are you a mutant?” Kurt asked. The girl looked at her hands and lit a small flame that quickly went out.

“Yeah… Are you?” She asked. Kurt giggled a bit and scooted closer to her cell. His tail slotted through the bars and he poked her, making the blind girl jump.

“What was that?” “My tail.” “You have a tail?” “I’m a mutant.”

The girl nodded and felt for the bars again. “…If I was stronger, I could melt these.” Kurt frowned and curled up tighter against himself.

“It’s not going to be possible, you know. We’re never going to leave this place.” The girl grunted in frustration and Kurt attempted to distract her from they’re current situation.

“…What’s your name?” “Madeline Koleman.” “Kurt Wagner.”

“…You’re wrong. We will get out of here. You’ll see.” Maddi felt for the bars again and slipped her arm through, reaching for Kurt’s hand. Her fingertips were black with soot and she had no nails. The young boy hesitated before he took her hand, knowing she’d notice his fingers, or lack there of. But Maddi only smiled.

“I’ll get stronger. And we’ll get out of here together. I promise, Kurt.”