Part Three- Hannah
Lights flash around me. Many colors shine together. Then, out of no where, the place is drowned of color and I'm left in a white expanse. All there is is plain white grass. I search for any sign of life, but there's nothing anywhere. A pang of lonliness strikes my heart. It's almost as painful as my leg. Oh! My head shoots down to look at my leg. It isn't broken! That's exactly how I realize I'm dreaming. I feel as if I should be awake, but I'm not, and though I know this is a dream, I feel like I'm awake. This great white expanse of colorlessness in the form of grass surrounds me for what seems to be miles. I spin my body in a 360, trying to see if there is anything there. No one stands near me, and there is no sign of any sort of living, breathing lifeform in the area aside from white grass. I groan, thinking of how boring this place is. Luckily for me, it's not even real.
I jolt as I wake up. My surrounding consist of a wood panel wall with a few family photos and paintings. The ceiling is also wood and it hangs pretty low. I'd say that if I got to my feet, my head would touch the top with ease. How irritating. How did I get here? That girl! Quickly, I look for her, and I be careful not to sit up, for I know this isn't a dream and my leg is in fact, broken. I see the girl across the room, standing in front of a giant pot that only picture witches having, cooking something. There's no way that girl can be a witch! Witches aren't real! Then again, up until now, I didn't believe there was really such thing as the Grim Reaper.
"You've awakened," The girl says in a bored tone. At first, I'm almost shocked to hear her speak. It takes me a moment to reply to her.
"Who are you?" I question, wanting immediate answers.
"Why should I tell you?" She shoots right back.
"Who are you? What do you plan to do with me?" I ask. It seems we've come to a standoff. She lets out a giggle. With her back turned, I can't see her face, but I can tell she's smiling.
"My name is Hannah. Don't worry, I'm not the police. I saved you," She replies, with a softer tone," You sure are serious and to the point. It's kind of scary."
"Why did you save me?" I ask, ignoring her statement.
"Hmph, can't you thank me? And it's because you're my MASTER," She says, catching me way off guard.
"Wh-what!?" I let out, shocked with her answer.
" I said you are my MASTER. Get your ears cleaned, kid!" She tries to say sternly, but she ends up laughing. I'm completly unamused by this, so I glare at her in a way that she apparently doesn't notice, or doesn't care about, because she continues doing what she was doing before I began glaring. For five or so minutes, there is complete silence. If you dropped a pin, you'd hear it, along with an echo. Seconds feel like hours. Minutes feel like days. Finally, she coughs and takes in a breath, like she's preparing to give a lecture.
"All right Damien, Grim Reaper number 95, do you know your purpose?" She speaks. The question confuses me, so I refuse to answer.
"Damien, I need your cooperation, please. I need you to help out here. I'm new to this job too, but you don't see me complaining!" Hannah whines.
"You just complained," I retort.
"I really wanna hit you right now. Anyways, Damien Rose. Please answer my question. Do you know your purpose?" Hannah tries to keep calm, though she's majorly annoyed with me already.
"No. I don't," Glaring, I answer her, because for some reason, if I don't, I feel as if I won't be able to get the answers I seek.
"Wow, you're supposed to be the Grim-freakin'-Reaper and you don't know your purpose!? You have to KILL people who's time has come! My job is to collect their SOULS! I am a SOUL BOTTLE, so I collect SOULS that the Grim REAPER reaps! You seriously are slow, Damien," Hannah practically lectures me. Insulted, I begin to ignore her. I roll, attempting not to stir my leg, in order to avoid any pain. Hannah suddenly turns and begins to approach me. Before I can move to even attempt to stop her, she's on top of me, and with a knife. Fear makes my eyes grow large. The heart inside my chest pounds at a thousand miles an hour. It's almost like the world as freezing as she raises that knife to stab me. Feeling guilt bubble in my stomach, I let my arms drop and I don't even begin to try to protect myself. Why should I? I keep my eyes open, now becoming defiant, instead of scared. Hannah swings the knife in a downwards direction, right at my neck. This is where my eyes squeeze shut.
Then, she giggles. Slowly, I reopen my right eye to look at what she's done. Instead of cutting me, she's cut off a small part of my shirt. Now I'm just confused as hell.
"You really think a servant would kill her master?" Her angelic voice taunts.
"Well, I have no damn clue who the hell you are! I can't trust you!" I yell, angered by her taunting.
"It's only funnier when you yell! You only make me happier, when you're angry!" She giggles. What is with this girl?
"Do you have a problem or something?" I voice. Hannah turns and looks at me seriously. Then she smiles.
"Yeah, I'm a little insane. I'm also schizophrenic!" Hannah manages to say with a big smile, as if she's still taunting me. For the weirdest reason, I'm able to believe her when she says this.
"Huh. That's very fitting."
"Isn't it!? So, Damien, I bet your're very confused about why I know so much about Grim Reapers and stuff. So I'll tell you okay?"
"Uhm. Not really, but can you tell me why I am the Grim Reaper?" She blinks.
"Well, it's inherited usually, and it said in the records in the Tree of Knowledge that your father was the previous Reaper and that his time was up." Shocked, I stare at her. I know it's rude, but staring at her with my mouth gaping open was my only initial reaction to hearing that my father was the Grim Reaper before me. Does that mean that everyone in our family has been genetically inheriting the powers of a killer? Does that mean that killing mother and father wasn't truly my fault?
"B-but-" I begin.
"B-but nothing! You're the Grim Reaper and you WILL do your job! Or you can face extinction! Then your power will be passed onto some poor unlucky child," Hannah cuts me off, sounding high and mighty.
"I-I can't give this power to someone, only for them to kill what they truly love!" I call out, feeling my heart pound with sorrow and regret," I don't want anyone to feel that pain!"
"Then shoulder it yourself," Hannah says, and for the first time since I met her, she sounds truly serious and thoughtful about what she's saying.
"How can I do that?" I interrogate.
"You do your job and reap souls that need reaping. That's the Grim Reaper's duty. The Soul Bottle's job is to help store the memories and souls that cannot be recycled, it's also the Soul Bottle's duty to help push away evil souls and send them to Hell, which is the underworld," Hannah explains easily.
"How DO you know all of this?"
"Oh, so NOW you wanna know? Well, here's how I know, I transformed before you and then I did my homework," Hannah replies with a big grin. She goes back over to the cauldren, and she stirs it. I attempt to not be angry witht he extremly lame response she gave me. Ten minutes pass by with no words said. Then it becomes twenty minutes. Slowly, I close my eyes and try to sleep.
"You need to eat, dummy," Hannah says. I groan and open my eyes again.
"Why are you even taking care of me?" I grumble.
"Because I'm the Soul Bottle and you're the Reaper. Now accept my help or be dangled out of a two story building!" She replies. I have no idea how she heard me, I thought I was quiet. This leaves me quiet though. I'm not even close to sure how I'd attempt to respond to what she said. Hannah stops stirring and puts out the fire under the cauldren with much ease. This girl is very odd, that's for sure. With a sigh, she runs her fingers through her hair and she goes to a cupboard to retrieve something. Hannah pulls out two bowls and two spoons. Carefully, she pours some of the thing in the cauldren into the bowls. She walks back over to me and puts one bowl right next to me. Whatever is inside the bowl smells pretty good. Hannah goes off and gets her bowl. Then she eats what's inside of it. I assume it's soup. Slowly, I make myself sit up. Quickly, I go for the bowl and begin wolfing it down. At first, I burn my tounge doing stuff like that, but then I'm a little more cautious, and I eat slower. As Hannah finishes her food, she sets the bowl down in a small sink. She looks over at me, like she's questioning me. It takes me a minute, but I finish the food. In no time, she's across the room, taking the bowl from me.
"You should get some rest, the remedy that is in that soup was crafted by the healing witch, so if you keep eating it, your leg will restore itself in about a week or two, rather than the one to five months it could take," Hannah tells me. I don't reply, instead, I roll to the side, and close my eyes. For what feels like centuries, I can't sleep. It's just the darkness of my eyelids. Finally, I feel myself slipping. Slipping into the abyss of sleep and dreams. Maybe I'll see that white expanse again. Then, I'm out, like a light. Hopefully, I will see that expanse again, because that place made me feel the calmest that I've been in what feels like centuries.