A/N: It's totally obvious that I used the first episode "Meet the Reaper," for this fic, so it might help somewhat to watch the episode before hand.
This is my attempt for the first prompt in a 100 theme writing challenge: Introduction. I had the hardest time thinking of what to use, because I have no imagination, but I guess this works. Not all of the prompts will be in this section, though they will all be fan fiction. I have the next prompt, Love, set for Ed Edd n' Eddy. Well, I hope you like it and what's to come.
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Introduction
He was never one for introductions. There was never an exchange of greetings when he arrived to collect a soul, for often they would never know of his presence. And when they did see him hovering like a giant black shadow over their deathbed, however rare as that occurrence was, their eyes would quickly hollow before they had a chance to whisper his name. They could freely believe that he wasn't capable of words. There was no need to speak, for they would all be empty shells in the end.
But Billy and Mandy, as they were children at the time, could see through his cover of invisibility, (curse a child's eyes), had called out to him. And that foolish, foolish boy, having quickly forgotten his fear, assumed his was Santa Clause.
However, that's when he first heard her voice, solid and steady, harsh with annoyance and much too mature for her age. She knew who he was, what to call him, and spit words, coated in an almost undetectable layer of awe, that he himself hadn't uttered in years, "That's the Grim Reaper."
I'm the Grim Reaper. He felt bubbling pride at his title. But as he stood in the room, squirming hamster in hand, wondering how he had fallen to harvesting such low forms of life, and silently cursing those humans for lengthening their life spans, he noticed something strange about that little girl. She recognized him, of course, she knew what he was capable of, and, perhaps he should have taken this as a sign of what was to come, she wasn't afraid. No, neither of them were.
"Mr. Reaper," she'd called him as she led him towards the tea table set in the middle of the room. Horrific, powerful. The words that floated diplomatically from her tongue set light into his heart. This child with dark stony eyes respected him, had addressed him as mister, had beckoned him with words and phrases that he hadn't heard in a millennium. And yet she set him with a challenge.
In his pride, he passed off their indifference as childish innocence and accepted her bet. But was it all for the life of that dirty little hamster? Hardly. He wanted them to fear him, to know his name, and, the next time they were to meet, for they surely would, know never to repeat the sound.
Confident in his superiority to human children, he had set them with a condition as he sliced open that portal to limbo. If he had know he wouldn't win, that the girl had sensed his gullibility from the start and had set a trap, not for the hamster but for him, he would never have said such condemning words. But he had failed, the girl was too much for him. He had lost his freedom, his silence, his respect.
And would never be addressed as mister again.
