The walls inside the reaper establishment were blindingly white, without a single mark or blemish. Even though the building was not the main reaper headquarters, it was still the England division, and so was a gigantic and magnificent establishment. While everywhere else inside the immaculate and intimidating building was filled with the sounds of busy typing and rustling papers, the main reception at the entrance was unusually quiet. The only noticeable features of the circular foyer were several hard chairs against the wall, a fairly large reception desk and a slightly wilting plant next to it. Sitting behind the desk was a tired, middle aged reaper, resting his head in his hand and looking incredibly bored. He had short brown hair, and black glasses that covered most of his face.
Just as the reaper was about to drift off to sleep, the doors at the entrance burst open, jolting the drowsy reaper awake. From outside a young reaper ran into the room, breathing heavily as if he had been sprinting. He put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath, not noticing the other reaper that was present.
The startled receptionist studied the boy silently. He had straight, scarlet red hair that touched down to his shoulders, and had glasses that matched in colour. He was also wearing red heels, and the reaper pondered why he would wear such extravagant shoes, let alone how he was able to run in them.
"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked, and the reaper jumped at his voice.
"Oh! Sorry I didn't know you were there," the boy laughed nervously, and quickly clacked in his heels over to the desk. He ran a hand through his hair, straightened his tie, and addressed the reaper formally.
"I'm here for the group study? For the exams?" he said vaguely, playing with his hands as he did so.
The receptionist noted his age, around 17, and realised what he meant.
"Oh right I understand, you're a bit late but I'm sure you can catch up," the reaper smiled, as he rummaged quickly through a variety of coloured tags. When he glanced up after finding the right tag, his gaze was fixed on the boy's eyes. He opened his mouth slightly in shock, for his eyes were not the distinctive green colour every reaper had. They were red, like a demon.
The boy coughed nervously when the reaper continued to stare, which caused him to snap out of his daze and apologise politely. He took a pen from the desk, and looked up to the boy once again, who was fiddling with his hands.
"Your name?" the reaper asked.
The boy looked up at the question. "Simon," he replied, and placed his hands nervously on the desk.
The reaper wrote Simon's name on the tag and handed it to him, and with a quick 'Thank you' the mysterious boy ran to the hallway, struggling to put the tag on his shirt as he stumbled out the foyer. The receptionist gave a small chuckle to himself, and continued to stare into space.
Simon rushed down the hallway, wincing each time his heels made their distinctive clacking sound. He was used to drawing attention to himself, what with his red eyes, or 'devil eyes' according to most people, but he still didn't like being the centre of attention. Despite his father's wishes he didn't dress in red; instead he wore black so he didn't stand out, with a white shirt and a striped tie. His father had begged him to wear heels, and since he wanted to make him happy he agreed.
Simon finally caught up to the group, and to his dismay the recruits were immediately drawn to the loud sound of his heels. All eyes were on him while he was panting, and even the older reaper that was leading the group stopped talking.
"S-sorry, Sir," Simon stuttered anxiously, "I guess I didn't realise what time it was."
The leader raised an eyebrow, but then gave a small smile. "Its fine Simon, you haven't missed that much."
The group continued walking, and eventually they were led to the hub of the reaper establishment, where many different reapers were busy filing, typing and organising those scheduled to die. There was a bustling atmosphere, and the group of recruits had to step into a corner to avoid getting in anyone's way.
Simon could hear some of the boys snickering behind him. He knew they were talking about him, but he didn't want to create fuss. He was always an easy target, what with his dress sense, his shark-like teeth, and his demonic eyes. When he had told his father about how others ridiculed him, he threatened to march down to where they lived and give them a 'deadly' warning with his chainsaw. But this would only make things worse, so ever since Simon decided just to endure it.
Despite the distractions behind him, Simon managed to pick out some of what the older reaper was saying.
"As you may know, you are taking exams very soon, so it would be wise to practise your practical skills along with studying how this establishment, and each department, works."
Suddenly Simon felt a tap on his shoulder from behind. He was reluctant to turn around, but if he didn't he would be constantly pestered by those behind him. Sighing, he slowly turned around to face the other boys.
As soon as he did, the boys feigned shock and one even pretended to faint into another boy's arms. The boy who had gotten his attention clasped his hand over his chest and pointed shakily at Simon.
"D-demon!" the boy shouted in horror, and a few seconds later the boys burst out laughing.
Simon was not amused, and sighed with exasperation at the joke. "Haha, very funny," he replied drearily. The main boy's name was Peter, and even though he was popular Simon was not overly fond of him.
At this Peter stopped giggling, and he stared confusedly at Simon. "But seriously, what are you doing here? You're obviously a demon."
Simon stayed silent, unsure of how to respond to such a rude question.
"Because there's no way you're going to convince anyone you're a reaper with those eyes," he continued, and the boys behind him chuckled.
Simon gave an exasperated sigh. It was true, he was half demon. But he was also half reaper. His father never talked about it, and whenever Simon mentioned it he would always change the subject. All Simon knew was that the man his father had loved was a demon.
"Hey wait, I think that guy over there could be his father," another boy chimed in.
Simon eyes widened. He quickly turned his head, and he gasped when he saw the boy was right. There was his father, in all his glory. He was sat on a desk cross legged, wearing so much red he looked like a warning siren. His long, scarlet hair ran down to his knees, and his feminine glasses hung low beneath his eyes. He was pouting his ruby red lips as he filed his nails, while the reaper next to him was sorting papers like a machine. He appeared to be tuning out the brightly coloured reaper completely, and since Simon knew what his dad was like he didn't blame him.
"Oh god," Simon whispered in horror, and quickly averted his gaze, his face turning as red as his eyes.
A cheeky smile spread over Peter's face. "Wow, it really is your dad!" the reaper laughed, being deliberately loud to draw the red reaper's attention.
"Shut up!" Simon hissed, not daring to turn around. Suddenly he heard a familiar, high pitched voice, and Simon knew he was doomed.
"Simon?!" his father exclaimed ecstatically, and the reaper's blood ran cold.
In the distance Simon heard someone bark "Grell, get back here!" but it was too late. He refused to turn around even when he heard his father rushing towards him, his heels clacking loudly on the solid floor. He could see the boy's faces react as the red blur drew closer, all of their mouths agape at what they were seeing. All of a sudden two arms wrapped tightly around him, with so much force that it nearly knocked him into the other boys. Simon cringed at the impact, and was rapidly turned around so he was facing his father. Grell's face was beaming, and a huge smile was plastered on his face.
"Hello, my darling! How are you? What are you doing here? Are you on a tour?" Grell babbled, asking each question in rapid succession while his eyes darted around the group. The other reapers began to giggle when they saw Simon's ears redden, and the leader of the group was left with his mouth agape, made speechless by the sudden intrusion.
Simon wanted to tell his father to go away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he gave a shaky smile, and nervously turned around to address the other boys.
"Um, this is Grell, my father," Simon spoke hesitantly, and Grell's neon-green eyes widened.
"Ooh you've made friends already? Well I don't blame you, considering how handsome you are, kitten," he purred, pinching Simon's cheek as he blushed furiously.
"Daaad!" Simon yelled in embarrassment, pushing Grell's hand away as the boys laughed.
Grell giggled, and placed one hand on his hip while he tapped his chin. "Although, I do wish you wore the outfit I picked out for you. You'd look so dashing in red!"
Simon put his hand over his face and groaned. His dad seemed oblivious to how much he humiliated him, and to make matters worse he would never call him by his actual name. It was always 'kitten', or 'darling', or 'sharky' because of the sharp teeth he had inherited from him. It was great that he loved him so much, but he wished he didn't smother him like he did.
Suddenly a tall, thin reaper was standing next to Grell, and when he noticed Grell let out a shrill cry.
"Oh, Will! You startled me," Grell laughed, and ruffled the reaper's hair with his gloved hand.
William was not amused, and stared daggers at the ruby reaper. He then glanced at Simon, raised an eyebrow, and grabbed Grell's coat roughly, making him yelp in surprise.
"Come along Grell, we have work to do. You can't be going off and talking to children."
William dragged Grell away by his coat, but the reaper struggled against his grip and managed to turn to wave goodbye to Simon.
"Bye bye, my sweet! I'll see you later!" Grell cooed, blowing him a kiss. William put his hand over Grell's mouth, to which he gave muffled cries.
"Shhhh, you're making a scene," William hissed, as Grell continued to struggle.
The other recruits were still chuckling at Grell's display, and Simon sighed deeply.
"Wow, you do have cool parents Simon," Peter said sarcastically, and Simon became alert at the plural.
"Parents? Oh no, I only live with Grell. William's not my dad," Simon said with a small smile, but when he turned away from the boys his smile faded. No, it was only Grell in his eyes. He had no idea where his other dad was, or who he had been. Only that he was a demon that had broken his father's heart.