Vlad isn't sure if he should be afraid of the darkness or not. While empty besides himself, it feels like there is more existence to it. He curls up in on himself and the darkness curls with him, wrapping around his small form tightly in a comforting way that Vlad never thought such a darkness could. He lets it hold him, finding some semblance of friendliness in the gesture. He tries to hold the darkness in his hand, trying to find something tangible to hang onto. Instead his hand gips something much more solid.

His eyes only see black in an everlasting stretch, but soon the object in his hand comes into focus with blinding clarity. The wooden shaft in his hand is long, almost the same height that he is. At the end is a long silver blade, wide and flat, curving down to a sharp point. Vlad pulls it close to his body, hugging it awkwardly as the only solid material he has. He runs a hand over the silver blade, hissing quietly when his finger catches just right to cut.

He jerks and the darkness comes to him, obeying like it was made to do so. It runs over his finger and soon the cut is healed completely. Vlad takes a deep breath and brings his hand back close to his body, muttering out small words of thanks to the void that surrounds him. Maybe it can't hear him, or maybe it can with the way it passes by him, but he feels compelled to be thankful. The darkness is all he knows besides the long handled tool in his arms.

He floats around, existing silently, cohabiting with the nothingness. It's peaceful having the void with him. He's not sure how long he stays there with no words to say, and truthfully the pull scares him. It's sudden, desperate, pleading and his heart lurches to the notion. He spins in a wild circle to try and find the new sensation. Barely his eyes focus on a light in the distance. Something new, something calling to him and him alone.

He blinks with a squint at the light as the darkness gently pushes him towards it. At the last second he takes the step needed to bring him right in front of the thing pulling him. His hands grip his tool tightly when his mind recognizes what caused the pull. Somehow he knows what happened to the being at his feet. He looks around him, finding nothing but the human, half buried in the snow at his feet. The only warmth he feels is the breath in his body.

He kneels down, placing a gentle hand on their expose one. He can feel the human's body warm under him and they smile gently as their small amount of shivering comes to a halt. Vlad feels a cold tear slide down his cheek. The pull stops as a gentle wisp, like snow falling in reverse, comes from the human's body, resting on top of it in a small figure. Vlad blinks at the creature, tilting his head when it does the same. Then the creature scurries in a sharp movement to hide behind it's old body. Vlad stands and bumps into something behind him. He jerks, spinning on his heel, and falling over the body to stare up at the looming figure.

He swallows thickly at the man staring him down with a dark expression on his face. Vlad doesn't know why but he feels compelled to wipe away his tears, not wanting to look more unsightly than he already does. He scrambles to his feet holding his tool in front of him. The man leans his head back, shifting awkwardly in his long black coat. Vlad holds his breath when the man lifts his hands up, only letting out a huffy exhale when the man drops his coat onto Vlad's shoulders.

Vlad blinks wide eyed up at the man, now able to show off the black militaristic uniform that hid behind the coat. He tugs the new material tight to him, relishing in the new warmth. The man takes off his helmet, crunching it between his hands and kneeling down. Vlad isn't sure how he knows, but he holds out his tool slightly, letting the man attach a small point to the top of it. When the deed is done, the man shifts into a new creature, larger, but like the one the human had, and hops off quickly. Vlad reaches a hand out to the retreating form, but no words pass his lips.

He glances down to the human's spirit creature, still hiding. He reaches a hand to the creature now, reeling back when it makes a noise of protest. He flinches, clutching his tool tight. He drops the blade to his feet, swinging it down. In the effort, the air near the blade tip rips open. He stumbles back, breathing heavily, concerned when the spirit animals hops through it easily and unafraid. The rip seals and he's left all alone.

Maybe he stands in the snow for long, maybe he doesn't, but the same kind of pull tugs at his insides. He sniffs, wiping away a new stray tear. With a small tug, he pulls the coat close, morphing it to his body to keep him warmer in the cold that surrounds him. With a small ounce of confidence, Vlad takes a step forward, feeling the darkness come to him in an instant, and move him to somewhere new that needs him in a new way.


Yuri blows weakly at his fingers, his breath cooling before it can get to them, making his attempt to warm them a failure. He lets out a strangled sob, choking back the noise as quick as he can. His body stops it's shivering, finally giving up on it's efforts to keep him warm. He meekly pulls the blanket around his shoulders tighter.

The whole winter he spent collecting wood and trying to keep warm in his solitary cabin in the woods. His breath fogs as he looks out the window at the continual falling snow, his fire slowly dying out before his eyes. He grits his teeth. For so long he spent preparing for this winter, trying his hardest, and as much as he may not like it, he may not make it through. He sniffles once more, wrapping his arms around himself and bundling up as much as he can. Hoping for as much warmth as he can get before it all ends.

His body is suddenly burning. He gasps harshly and looks up to a figure before him, tall and dark, with a long black cloak. He swallows, hiding a little behind his hands. This is his first time dying. Somewhere in his being he can feel the many lives he can have. His jaw clenches tight and he moves through the rip in the air when it's created. It feels natural to go through, almost giving him a new hope that his next life will be better.


Vlad stares wide eyed at the sword that splintered the wood just next to his head. It came just close to not only hitting him but the woman just at his feet. She scrambles and runs as fast as she can and Vlad chases after her, as do the rest of the angry villagers. He's not sure what she did, but he's sure she didn't deserve it. He holds tight to his tool as he runs, somehow making her path easier for her to escape through while simultaneously making it harder for those following.

He slows to a stop as he sees her run free, hopping aboard a cart that is passing by, hiding in the back and out of sight of the others. They pass Vlad by, shouting angrily at nothing in particular and each other. Vlad looks at his hands in wonderment. He's never done anything like that before. He felt like he could control the way the sword titled in the man's hand before it struck the girl. Felt like he could change something about the way the outcome may have been.

With a new tug pulling at him, he slips away to the unknown area with the help of the constant darkness. The woman sitting in her chair in front of the fire is slowly losing her life. Vlad stands to the side as she smiles frail to a small child near her feet. He finds himself smiling gently at the scene, the smallest of changes in his natural expression. The child is full of life, bright and bubbling that Vlad can feel. The women lets out a shaky breath and he steps forward, placing a gentle hand on hers. She sighs and goes still, and soon the child starts to cry out. Other family members rush forward as the small spirit creatures appears at Vlad's feet. It looks up at him in fear.

Vlad sighs, and cuts the air simply with his tool, used to the frightened expression he gets from the souls. The creature hops through and the rip seals without a sound. For as long as he can remember, the souls have been scared of him, why he's not entirely sure, but they don't stick around long enough to tell him why. He runs a hand across his neck, brushing against the long cloak over his body. It keeps him slightly warm against the small amount of temperature he can actually feel. He wipes away the silent tear that fell when the woman passed. There's always a tear for them and their passing life.


Ion balances on his tiptoes, the rope around his neck keeping him just above ground. A forced cough comes from his throat, tearing at it and making it harder to breathe than it already is. There are other's lined up next to him, all struggling to keep balance for the small amount of air they can have. Some have already lost the battle, but Ion refuses to give in.

This war ruined him and his country and the family he may have had and the family that raised him. These troops destroyed everything. Ion musters up a glare to one of the guards, earning him a kick, effectively knocking out his feet. He chokes, thrashing around to gain his balance again. The hanged men next to him are breathing harder now, maybe rooting for him. Ion actually manages to get his toes under him again, catching a quick breath when he's kicked again. This time down for good.

Being able to breathe again is weird. He blinks up at his own body, swinging lifelessly. He shakes his head, his old life coming back in a flurry of cold memories. He glances up at the reaper leaning up against a wall, a small group of snakes at their feet. Ion finds his body, and slithers his way over, waiting for the others to join him before going through the rip the reaper will make.


Vlad waits at the edge of the room for the husband to die and join his wife in her ethereal form. They had a better love than he's seen. Loyal and loving to each other even though war is looming around the corner and the threat of unnatural death is everywhere. Still the husband managed to make it through for another year even after his wife died in a natural sleep.

The life begins to fade and Vlad makes himself known. He raises a hand to try and placate the woman's starled gasp, gently placing a hand on the husbands to release the soul trapped inside the body. The wisps appear and the husband embraces his wife in a gentle hold. Vlad steps back and makes a subtle rip in the air. The couple hops through together with smiles on their faces. Vlad shakes his head to rid himself of his tears. The life they lead together had been beautiful in his opinion.

He's seen the woman before, he skewed her odds of life, giving her time to not get hit by a passing stampede horse, being saved by the man who she later married. Vlad walks out of their house, his steps taking him to a new place. To him, life is precious and he likes seeing the people live full lives. The humans should be able to experience the best, and he honestly hates it when they can't.

So Vlad skews the odds. He does it as often as he can. His ability to affect change has increased over his years of using it. It's easier now. It makes him happy in a small way, to be able to see someone live longer because of the small chance they could trip backwards instead of forward. The little things he does have the biggest effect in the end.


Sophia smiles up at the man in front of her a little bashfully. She nods her head, accepting the proposal offered. Though it's not entirely her idea, truth be told her father picked out the man in front of her, accepting him first without her input, this suitor not the worst. He's fairly nice to her, and she hopes with the bruise paining her arm, that he's better than her father. It's a small hope, knowing the suitor can change his personality at the drop of a hat, but she wants to stick through it, and give him a chance.

She allows the man to hold her hands and place a gentle kiss on her cheeks, and she in turn kisses his cheeks back, listening to the proud words her father says, though she knows he's just happy to be rid of her, favoring her older brother. She smiles at him now, him cringing at the idea of her being married, having been the only one to really listen to her when she told about the bruises her father gave her. This marriage will be better, she's determined to see it that way.


The field of flowers outside the house is one of the most amazing displays Vlad has ever seen. All of the flowers are in bloom and placed in such a wondrous arrangement, he has to stop and stare for a moment, ignoring ever so slightly the pull in his chest. When it becomes too much to bear, he steps into the house, the darkness taking him right to the side of an elderly man who fell just a little too hard. Vlad places a hand on theirs, feeling them relax below his touch. The soul floats out, taking form of the man.

Vlad looks down embarrassed when the man reels back in shock to him, afraid, just like so many of the others. Vlad holds up a hand to quell their fear just a little, hiding his scythe behind his back just in case. The spirit relaxes a little and exits the house. Vlad follows him, watching from the door as the man takes a water bucket and begins to sprinkle the plants with water one last time.

It's a simple moment, but it takes Vlad by surprise almost. The thing to keep the man to this earth is his flowers that he worked hard to make look as lovely as they are. Something so little changed this man for the better. Vlad comes closer, just enough to get the man's attention. He flinches for a moment but then holds out the watering bucket to Vlad. The reaper takes it carefully, watering the plants in front of him like he saw the man do. For once, he can bring life to something.

A slow tear falls down his face and almost jumps when the spirit places a hand on his arm. The spirit smiles warmly to him and shifts into the small creature form. Vlad swings his scythe quickly, letting the soul bounce through. He grips the water bucket tight. He continues with the rest of the flowers the elder man didn't get to, taking his time to make sure they all get enough water. He ignores the pull in his chest for as long as he possibly can, putting the bucket to the ground, and promising to himself to come back.


"My dear," Sophia whispers softly, holding her husband's hand tight in hers. The man grits his teeth looking down at her on the bed. She musters up a smile, refusing to let the cough wrack her body once more. She shouldn't have lasted this long, to survive with a cold like this for as long as she did is nearly a miracle but she wanted to be with her husband for a little while longer. He made life just a bit more bearable in their harsh conditions, treating her well besides all of her mistakes.

She kisses his hand softly with the remaining strength she has before closing her eyes. She hears him talk gently for a while. Their life hadn't been the best, fighting for food and warmth like the rest, but it had been theirs and some of the greatest time she had in her life, away from her family and the rules. She takes a ragged breath, her throat burning and she coughs hard, her stomach lurches and her air becomes lax. She huffs but nothing comes to her, then the world goes white.

She keeps her eyes closed, not wanting to see the reaper above her, not wanting to see the look on her husband's face. She feels the portal open and flutters through as quick as she can, wanting to get to a new life soon to see and feel something new and better.


Vlad's grip on his scythe is tight. He's nearly shaking with anger at the sight in front of him. These people make him angry, especially the one on the end, dictating the death of others, and laughing. Never has Vlad seen someone so cruel to other life, so willing to take it away, so enjoying of it all. Vlad's blood boils and he stalks up behind the man, taking his scythe and putting it to the man's neck though he doesn't see it due to being alive.

He waits, carefully finding his chance. Once the signal is given to light the others on fire, Vlad pushes. The human goes through his scythe, cutting off his vitals, and stepping right in the path of the flaming arrow. Vlad watches coldly as the man twitches on the ground, not being able to breathe and the fire searing at his skin from the inside. No one helps the man.

When the spirit is free it hides behind it's body, staring up at Vlad and trembling, and for once Vlad does not care as much. If there is one thing he's learned over the years of seeing death and war, it's that life is precious, and to see it so stripped in an inhumane way, strikes a nerve. He rips the air with more force than necessary, hissing when the spirit bounds through quickly.

His teeth grind together and his anger is on a slow fall. He steps back and falls to a new area, one that the darkness has come to recognize as a place of peace for him. Vlad sits amongst the flowers, wanting to run his fingers over them but not daring to in case he accidentally kills them. For years he's been coming back to water them, keeping them alive despite the death of the man before. It's the one thing that gives him some hope in the beauty of life when he sees something to atrocious for even himself.


Anastasia takes a deep breath, tears pouring out of her eyes. She holds the knife tight in her hands, every fiber of her being shaking to the core. It's not right for her to be abused in a home like this, some place she should feel safe in. The mistress of the boarding school thought her trouble and gave her harsher punishments than anyone else. No matter how hard she worked, nothing could ever been good enough for the mistress.

She worked to the bone, her feet aching with all the practice she did, but her grace is never enough, her posture never quite right. It hurt to know she could never measure up to the standards placed upon her. She stifles a sob, all the insults firing off in her head that she's heard over the years. In one quick motion, she plunges the knife deep into her chest.

She chokes, blood pooling in her lungs and slowly drowning her from the inside out. She coughs slightly and blood dribbles out of her mouth. She slumps to the floor, twitching slightly, wondering just who might come see her first. She closes her eyes and waits for the pain to dull.

When it does, she's held up by strong arms. She wipes at her eyes, muttering out a soft thank you to her reaper, missing the warmth of the arms she had before. The reaper places a hand on her shoulder and she waves them off, wanting to pass now so she doesn't have to remember what she just went through. The reaper sighs and opens the portal with his axe, and she flies in, hoping for something better.


He's seen it before, and yet everything about war made him hurt. Vlad wipes away a tear on his face, a scowl permanently settled as his expression. He's standing at the edge of the battle zone, gripping his scythe and trying as hard as he can to reach as many people, to change something, to give them a few extra minutes of life. It's not fair for them all to die. It's not right. He shakes as he feels his power giving out, he doesn't know how much longer he can keep up such a feat.

He stumbles, losing his breath and dropping his scythe in favor of holding his head to keep himself from falling too hard. Screams ring out and he finds himself on his knees, covering his ears, trying to keep the pounding headache from ruining his mind. He shakes as slow tears run down his cheeks. It's not right. The pull inside of him is trying to drag him in every direction, calling for him to move, for him to do something other than sit there but he can't bring himself to see the death around him. He doesn't want to see it.

Only when the screams stop and the so called victors leave does he stumble to his feet. The darkness pushes him, nearly throwing him to those who need him. He touches them quickly, immediately being moved to a new area. The tug inside slowly easing the more he helps souls be released. He blinks his eyes hard, trying to see around the tears with the growing number of dead.

He sits in the abandoned village, surrounded by the spirits, this time not afraid for he sits vulnerable among them. The creatures rub their fuzzy faces on his legs, trying to give him comfort though he feels he doesn't deserve it, not saving as many as he wishes, and then not getting to them soon enough. He grits his teeth, moving his scythe in front of him lazily. The spirits leave him soon enough and Vlad screams to the sky.

No matter how much he helps those in need, or how much he sees it, there is nothing more he hates than the death he brings.


Viktor stands tall, proud almost, looking at his work. The house in front of him stands strong, good for helping him combat the extensive cold. He built the house all on his own, without the help of anyone else, something people told him he couldn't do, and he smiles now being able to prove them wrong. He begins to pick up his axe and leftover metal fixtures.

A rustling in the woods catches his attention. He freezes, staring now at a bear creeping towards him. Viktor swalows, trying to remember what he's supposed to do in this situation. He begins to back away slowly. The bear growls at him and he pauses again. He glances to the door of his house, taking another step towards it. He moves slow, keeping his eyes trained on the bear who is looking back at him. When he's close enough he dodges inside, trying to closes the door. He's not fast enough.

The bear manages to get a paw inside, growling. Though Viktor tries to push the bear out, his strength is no match for it. He screams out as claws dig into his leg and pulls him out of the house. He thrashes but it's no use. He's only slightly happy the pain ends quickly.

When he opens his eyes, he blinks at the two reapers in front of him. Seeing two in the same place is new. A rip opens and he goes through, trying to forget the pain of the lives before him, not wanting to experience them anymore. It's getting tiring.


Vlad watches as the soul cries. The young woman has nothing to hold her to the earth, but she is sad, and will not go through the rip. Vlad's scythe will not rip it as long as she does not want to go. He holds out a hand wordlessly to her having a random idea come to him. She flinches away from him and he does his best to not let it show on his face, not that much expression crossed it in the first place. Slowly she takes his hand and he steps back, taking her with him to a special place.

She watches from behind as he waters the plants. The house has been since removed and the town moved away, but the flowers remained, growing wildly with Vlad not being able to tend to them as well as he wishes. He waters them quietly as the soul's sniffles come to a stop.

"Why do you do this?" She asks in a whisper. Vlad glances over his shoulder at her. She scrunches up her face at him.

"They are going to die anyway," She says bitterly. Vlad sighs and puts down the water bucket. He goes to sit next to her.

"But their life now is precious," He remarks. She huffs in annoyance.

"Maybe short, but wonderful," He runs a finger over his scythe blade, letting it glide across the smooth surface. He peeks at her, new tears coming down her cheeks. She stands suddenly, turning to face him.

"I'm ready," She says. Vlad stands and cuts the air for her in one swoop of his tool. She walks through, giving him one quick smile before the rip seals. Vlad looks to the ground, then back to the flowers beside him. The words he said feel heavy on his tongue, cause though human life is short, his is very long, and sometimes he wishes he could wither away like the flowers one day will. He runs a hand through his hair and the darkness comes to him, swirling around his body quickly and disappearing just as soon.

Vlad looks down at himself, the long black cloak he used to wear now slightly altered. The overall sleeves and length are still there, but there are more layers to him now, pants and shirt to accompany the long coat, and gloves. He stretches his fingers out, now warmer than before. He sighs again, stepping away from the flowers to a new area that needs him.


Something about the cold really bothered Dmitri. He's not entirely sure what it is, but the chill sends shivers down his spine and not just because of the temperature. He pulls his coat tighter around him on the boat as it travels to a new place. He doesn't know where he's going actually, he just hopped a boat the moment he had enough money to get him someplace new. He worked hard to get away from the place he called home. He wants to go somewhere different. Somewhere warm.

The boat rocks uneasily and Dmitri grabs a rope next to him. There is shouting and the rest of the passengers huddle closer to each. Suddenly crew are running about, gripping rope and pushing people this way and that. He can barely see what they are yelling about. When the course of the boat is made clear it will crash into rocks, he jumps into action. He finds the first group struggling with pulling a rope and takes hold, yanking down with all he can muster. The crew shouts and ties the rope down, moving to the next tie of the sail. Dmitri right with them.

The rocks are narrowly missed, the crew patting Dmitri on the back for his help. He smiles, part of him overflowing with happiness at being needed. He helps them untie to the sails from their risky maneuver, standing up just as part of the sail smacks into him. The air is knocked out of his chest as he falls overboard. He struggles in vain to get to the surface, the turbulence of the boat keeping him under, his coat sinking him more. He kicks as hard as he can, not wanting to give up just yet, not after finally finding himself a place. All he receives is water in his lungs.

He gasps harshly when he can breathe again, sitting on top of the water's surface with a reaper in front of him. He cringes and shakes his head to keep away his tears. Again, a life he had is cut short with nothing to show for it. He picks himself up and goes through the rip, almost dreading what is to befall him next.


The reaper in front of him doesn't speak. Vlad is shocked too much on his own to say words either. He plays with the handle of his scythe, taking in minor things about the other's appearance. Their scythe is the first thing he notices, long like his, but thinner, more delicate looking, with a bird skull on the top. They are too dressed in black, covering their body in a long coat, and silver hair tied behind them with a back ribbon.

Vlad nods his head to them slowly, in acknowledgment or in a way of saying hello, he figures both. The reaper sighs, almost happily, giving him a soft smile in return, and moving their fingers to make shapes like letters. Vlad narrows his eyes at the way of communication, but figures out their name all the same.

"Klaus," He says as gently as he can manage. The reaper nods their head in confirmation. Vlad swallows.

"Are there others, like us?" He tries to hide his nervousness. Klaus is the first other reaper he's seen besides the one he met when he first came to be. He had no idea if more reapers existed, he didn't even think about it until this one moment. Klaus makes a motion like he's laughing, leaning down to place a hand on the human's shoulder, letting the soul come out in the shape of a small creature, like a wolf with a wagging tail. Klaus opens a rip and the soul sprints through happily.

Klaus makes a motion with his hand, something similar to the 'yes' of a nodding head and Vlad releases a breath he didn't know he held. Klaus steps forward and grips his arm gently for a second, smiles, and disappears. Vlad shakes his head to help him get back to himself. The smallest of smiles tugs at his lips. Knowing there are others, knowing he's not alone, makes him feel better about his job and way of exiting than he has in decades.


He carefully follows after the girl who got picked on. Some rude boys he sent a wicked glare to after she stomped off made her cry. He swoops down, picking up the prettiest flower he can see, and finds her sitting up in a tree though manners suggest she should be doing other wise.

"Hey!" He calls up to her. He hides his smile when she grips the branch she's sitting on tightly to not fall down. He holds his flower up, catching a glimpse of her bright blue eyes and for a moment think he's talking to an angel.

"I don't think you're ugly." He says loudly. At this point, she's probably the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. She wipes at her face to get rid of the tear tracks.

"I don't think I'm ugly either," She shouts back at him. He laughs loudly and raises his flower higher, hoping he's not offending her in anyway.

"I think you're strong," He says. It's true, none of the other girls would stay and fight with the boys for long. He had to admire that kind of strong will. His heart pounds in his chest as she climbs down from the tree, stumbling only a little when she gets to the bottom. He helps her get steady, backing away just in case he's imposing too much. He remembers his manners, holding out the flower he picked for her and smiling when she actually takes it.

"My name is Van," He does a small bow for politeness knowing his mother wouldn't be too proud if he forgot his introduction. She laughs and Van swears this moment is perfect. She curtseys back to him.

"I'm Amelia," She smiles at him. Taking his chances, not knowing when he'd ever have a moment like this again to find a girl who didn't run from his intimidating size and stature he holds out his arm. He can't help the smile on his face as she actually takes it and lets him walk with her back to town.


Something about the way the child looks up at him makes him stumble back. He drops his scythe to the ground and nearly hides his face in his hands. He's shaking but so is the child. Vlad's eyes are wide, he turns his head sharply down, realizing his expression might be scarier then. It's not like he means to scare the souls, just something about the way his face naturally set makes it frightening to those who just died. Part of him hates it.

He brings a hand to his face, covering it up as he slowly bends down to pick his scythe back up. The child whimpers and a small piece of his heart breaks. He turns his back and slowly makes a rips in the air, walking away from it, still not facing the child. After a few seconds he glances back, seeing the child soul and the rip gone. Again he drops his scythe, not having the energy to hold it up. He hates being scary looking, he doesn't want to be. He cares so much for the souls he helps move on, to see that kind of fright on one of their faces tears him up inside.


He knows. Amelia doesn't think he knows, but Van figured it out along the way that his wife wouldn't make it through the birth. The doctors tell him exactly what he feared. Part of him, a big part, hates himself for putting her in that position. He puts his head in his hands, listening as her screams start to die down, with the cry of the baby nowhere to be heard. Amelia had been one of the best things in his life, and now, she'll be taken away from him. Maybe their life hadn't been the best, but he loved it all, and he loved her, and somewhere inside, he almost expects the worst.

His head snaps up when her screams begin to echo out again, stronger than before. He shakes in his seat, not knowing what is going on, but seeing the nurses move around in the room. He whispers to himself, muttering out for Amelia to be strong. He disregards any and all manners when a baby's cry rings out. He bursts into the delivery room, going right to Amelia to hold her hand tight as she smiles down at their son, their living son.

The happiness is short lived. Van clings to the baby, his head down on Amelia's shoulder, no longer breathing. Tears come out of his eyes and he doesn't have the energy to wipe them away. He pets the boy as he crys more. He'll be strong for their son, he'll make sure his life is better than anything Van has ever experienced. He can't give up now.


Not even a reaper can stop nature in it's path. The blizzard froze so many people in their homes, he spent the whole week jumping from place to place, releasing souls to their small creature form and ushering them through the portal, barely having time to shed a tear before the pull wanted him to go somewhere else. Sometimes he doesn't have time to open a rip when the darkness forcefully drags him to a different area. The small spirit rabbits follow him.

When the souls are all gathered outside the last house, Vlad lifts his scythe and lets it fall, creating a large opening for all of the spirits to hop through easily enough, some hopping on each other in their effort to get to a new life. Vlad sniffs and rubs at his nose, hoping them the best. He hangs his head and steps off, commanding the darkness to bring him to the flower patch.

Now overgrown completely, Vlad grips the water bucket tight to him. He wishes he could touch the petals, feel the life beneath them, but he's afraid the death running through him would kill them instantly. Sometimes the souls will grace him with small touches, his only glimpse at feeling the living, feeling the chance to be alive. Nothing like his existence trapped to the dead. He closes his eyes tight, hoping that one day, he can feel more than just the cold metal of the bucket in his hands.


Van smiles up at his son, now grown into a wonderful young man, far better than Van would ever be. He tried so hard to give his son everything he could, and his hard work paid off. He's never been so proud and so happy at the sight of his son, stable and strong in his life. He takes a shaky breathe, turning his head down, feeling death come to him.

"Van." He recognizes the voice instantly, shooting up and holding Amelia in her spirit form tightly. She laughs like a dream, just like he remembers. She kisses him sweetly on the forehead, telling him to go on ahead without her, that she will wait for their son to pass before passing herself. He nods his head, catching a glimpse of a reaper in the corner looking nervous. The rip is made and Van takes one glance at her, smiling warmly. Even in his next life, he knows he'll miss her.


Vlad raises an eyebrow to the tiny child attached to Klaus's leg. He knows they are not a soul, the child has no feel of life to him, but he's there all the same. Klaus gets his attention with a wave of his hands, moving his fingers in a specific pattern, trying to convey the message.

"Lutz?" Vlad questions, turning his eyes back down to the boy. Their hair is unruly and curly, a small dagger is attached to their hip over their black covering. Klaus ruffles the boy's hair, earning him a pout. Klaus's own outfit is black and militaristic, his scythe in the style of a sword. Vlad sighs, looking out into the open where the bodies of the souls now passed are still lying. Klaus had been the one to take them with boy running about touching all the animals that didn't clear the area in time.

It almost makes Vlad uneasy, seeing such a small person near death, but Klaus is there for guidance, so maybe it won't be too harsh on the child. Vlad bows his head in politeness, earning a head bow, and a dirty expression in return. He narrows his eyes at the child, making him quickly hide behind Klaus. He sighs and begins to walk away. The darkness doesn't take him anywhere new for awhile, simply letting him be, just for the moment.


Catherine hates everyone. They all treat her differently, no consistency between any of them. When Sergei bursts into her room she has half a mind to throw her brush at him. She really wishes she did. The suitor whom her father actually denied more often than she did comes at her wildly. She screams of course, clawing her fingers into his face as hard as she can. He pushes at her and she pushes back, not wanting to give into his will.

She refused to marry anyone whom did not deserve her affections, and that will not change now. She hisses and screams louder, hoping to gain the attention of everyone in the town as to what is happening. Sergei pushes just a little too hard, making her stumble back towards the edge of the balcony. She catches herself but is not prepared for the tackle to her that comes next. With one last scream they both go over the edge, landing hard.

When her soul leaves her body she keeps still on the ground not wanting to move for anything. The reaper above her pushes Sergei's soul on without her. When a hand is placed on her shoulder does she finally sit up. She accepts the reaper's soothing touch gratefully. A few more tears slip out of her eyes, wondering when her life will end happily. She waves off the reaper's kind words, becoming the small insect and going through the rip made for her.


The scythe in his hands stands tall, balanced uneasily in the middle of the battlefield. Vlad stands with his eyes closed in the middle of all the chaos around him, slowly, but surely skewing odds. He can feel another reaper come up behind him, placing their scythe to the ground and doing the same as him, combining their power. He's not sure how many lives they gave a longer chance, but he's happy they tried.

Once the forces retreat Vlad peeks down at the small reaper with a small knife to the ground. They have a surprising amount of white on them, long sleeves, with a black suit vest over that. They stand, barely coming up to Vlad's chin. He turns his head down, not knowing how they will take him.

"I don't like death either," the small reaper laughs uneasily. Vlad inhales sharply, taking in their small smile before they walk away. He wraps his arms around himself, not knowing of many reapers to begin with, but hearing another tries to save lives just as much, makes him hope for the lives of the humans just a little more.


It hurts, it hurts so much. Nikolai looks out the window as his father comes home from the bar once more, stumbling and nearly falling face first into the dirt. As much as he wishes he could hide, he knows he'll be found, and when he is, the beating will be worse. He's put up with it for as long as he can. Though he knows he's young, he can't take this, not anymore, not since his father murdered his mother. That had been the final straw.

Nikolai goes to the front door, locking it with the feeble lock, giving him some extra time by pushing a chair up to it. He goes to the kitchen and grabs one of his father's bottles somehow still full of liquor. In the trash he rustles for the empty ones. He jerks and nearly drops one when there's a pound at the door. He refuses to open it. Instead he takes the full bottle of alcohol, and distributes it between the empty ones. He rips the table cloth into strips, stuffing them inside the bottles till they reach the liquid at the bottom. He's lighting the first one up when his father finally barges in.

The bottles break and soon the house in flames. Nikolai avoids his father's grabbing hands, breaking one last bottle in his face. The burns etch into his skin, getting nicked with glass and alcohol in the process. He screams loudly, tripping and landing in the fire. He twitches around, soon cooling off when death comes.

The reaper looks down at him, almost impressed by his actions, but Nikolai doesn't care. He's sick to his stomach. He flies through the rip soon, wanting to forget everything, wanting to stop going through this cycle of pain. It's torture to keep living now.


Vlad's not entirely sure what to do with the soul in front of him. It keeps hopping around in circles, almost like it's searching for something. Vlad runs after it when it finally chooses a direction to sprint in. The rabbit is easy enough to follow, his only unease coming from the knowing of what direction he's headed in. When the rabbit stops just before the flowers Vlad has been taking care of does the rabbit change back into the elder woman.

She turns around, giving him a big smile, something he's unused to, making him grip his scythe tight. She claps her hands together and goes to the flowers, running her fingers over them and smelling each and everyone.

"Thank you," she says softly. He nods his head, though he's not sure why. She comes back to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm quick, then becomes a rabbit once more and running. Vlad doesn't follow this time having finally recognized the look in her eyes. His gaze goes back to the flowers, still living after all these years. Though his job is helpful, he briefly thinks taking care of the plants is the most important thing he's ever done.


Ivan pushes as hard as he can, being servant to another's angry orders. He and the other serfs till the farm in the worst possible condition. The snow is falling heavily and their clothes are inadequate for the job. It's not long before the others start give up, leaving Ivan the only one with the strength, or insanity, to go on fully. He wants to give up though, a deep part of him no longer thinks it's worth it to keep going. So he stops pushing.

He stands up and faces the master with a dark glare. The other serfs cower under the stares they exchange. Ivan nearly barks out insults when a blunt object hits his head. He falls unceremoniously to the ground, barely able to comprehend someone moving him. He's dragged through the snow, brought to the outskirts of the farm, and left for dead. Just as well, he thinks. He doesn't care anymore. That deep part of him coming back, waiting him to give up finally. Maybe he will. He drops his head to the snow, and cries out the last of his energy.


He wants to stop it but he can't. There is nothing he can do to stop these people from dragging the limp body out into the snow and leaving them there. There is no one to help the person, there is nothing he can do. Not when they drop their head to the snow and Vlad can feel them giving up. He can feel their will to keep going fade and it kills him a little inside. He goes to the body and places his hand over theirs. They start to cry and Vlad releases a tear for them too, because no one deserves to be treated this way.

The soul is released from the body and comes out in the shape of the man just frozen to death. They curl up in themselves and begin to weep loudly. Vlad, still kneeling in the snow, is at a loss. Sure souls have cried before, but mostly after going to another being. This soul just cries and for some reason, that makes it so much worse.

Vlad glares at the ground near him, noticing finally the amount of little clothing the man is wearing, a thin ripped shirt and pants, barely anything of a scarf around their neck. He slips off his large coat and drops it to their shoulders. Maybe they can't feel the cold anymore, but he needs to do something to get them to feel better.

The soul snaps their head up to face him and Vlad swallows at the unbelievable brightness of their violet eyes. He glances away quickly, not knowing how to maintain eye contact with them.

"Why?" The soul whispers, voice cracking, broken. Vlad grits his teeth, part of him breaking at their sadness.

"Why what?" He counters quietly, managing the courage to look back at them. The soul sputters back up into tears, making their eyes bloodshot.

"Why does it always end in tragedy?" They bark out. They shake and begin to sob again, this time pulling Vlad's offered coat tight, hiding their head as much as they can. Vlad stops breathing. Slowly he reaches out a hand to them, placing it on their shoulder gently. He can see it now, he can feel all the lives, all the pain this one soul has gone through. He sits in the snow next to them, barely touching them, but just enough for the soul to know he is there.

"I am sick of living," The soul mutters out. Vlad looks wide eyed to them. He finds a new kind of hatred in their eyes when they turn their head up. His coat is back in his lap and the soul is walking away from him. He stands and follows quietly.

"Why?" He asks. The soul scoffs, marching in no particular direction. They cast a wicked glare over their shoulder at him but do not respond to that question.

"How long are you going to follow me?" They ask. Vlad narrows his eyes, walking just a bit faster to be next to the soul.

"Until you are ready to pass," He answers plainly. The soul scoffs again, coming upon a small village. There the soul sits in the middle of the town on a small bench.

"I am never going through this again." It's harshly whispered. Vlad doesn't know why he does but he takes a seat next to the soul, resting his scythe up against him. He doesn't say anything to them, just sits next to him. Not until the sun is going down does he ask anything.

"What's your name?" The question feels odd on his tongue. Never has he been able to converse with a soul before. They never gave him the chance.

"Ivan," The soul says unkindly.

"Vlad," The reaper says kindly. He stands when a pull comes to him. He pulls his coat back on, looking down at the soul still sitting there.

"I will be back," Vlad says with a small nod of his head. Ivan doesn't acknowledge the remark, staring off into space as Vlad disappears.


When Ivan is still sitting in the same spot when he returns a year later, Vlad is instantly worried. Ivan is not waiting for anybody, there is nothing holding the soul to the living world, it is simply refusing to go on. Vlad comes to the bench, taking a seat silently. He holds his scythe across his lap, gripping at the handle instead of focusing on the discomfort in his stomach.

"You came back," Ivan says making Vlad jerk a little. He nods his head. Ivan releases a long sigh.

"I did not think you would," Vlad glances at the soul, now looking down and gripping their hands tight. He's not sure what compels him to do it, but he removes his gloves, taking Ivan's hands in his and slipping the clothing on. He turns back to the snow at his feet as soon as the deed is done. Ivan doesn't say anything either.

"Why here?" Vlad finds himself asking when the sun is setting. Ivan hums softly.

"My sister's children are here," Ivan points to a small child in the distance soon followed by two more children, and a woman. Vlad tilts his head to the side, watching the family interact. Maybe that's why Ivan is still around.

"They are happy," Ivan says. Vlad glances at him, and for a second he sees a smile on the spirit's face. It's gone in a flash, replaced with the tired and lost look of before. Vlad sees something in Ivan's eyes he's never seen before in a soul's eyes. Death. Ivan's eyes are gone, like the life his being is made for has left.

"Are you bound to them?" Vlad asks, sitting up straight, maybe ever so slightly leaning towards Ivan. The spirit shakes his head.

"I am bound to nothing." Vlad's eyes widen, seeing utter defeat etch into Ivan's face. He grits his teeth, wanting to say something, anything, to get this soul to see there can be good things, but he doesn't know the words. So instead he sits quietly with the soul, until it gets dark, until the stars come out, until a pull demands his presence. He stands, nodding his head to Ivan. He begins to walk away when the soul stops him.

"Will you come back?" Ivan's voice breaks as he asks. Vlad faces him. Ivan has his hands held tightly in his lap, the gloves on his fingers keeping them warm.

"I do not want to be alone," Ivan says when Vlad doesn't respond right away. The reaper finds himself going to kneel in front of the soul. He takes Ivan's hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze then stands.

"I will come back," He assures. Ivan turns his head away at that, and Vlad cannot wait any longer. He steps away and leaves Ivan to himself, part of him hoping it's going to be okay.


Vlad steps out into the clearing of the small town Ivan has dubbed his place of sitting. For nearly 10 years he's been coming back to Ivan after his job, sitting with the soul and saying very little. Sometimes they would walk around, or go to a new place to sit. So when Ivan is not on the little bench or no where near it, Vlad freaks out. He grips his scythe and runs around the village, frantically shouting Ivan's name over and over. He doesn't know where the lost soul has gone, and he's terrified something has happened to him.

He skids to a stop, finding Ivan huddled under a tree and coughing wildly. He rushes to his side, dropping to his knees next to the soul. He grips Ivan's shoulders tight, one of the few moments of contact they've ever had.

"Ivan," Vlad says steadily, trying to get the soul's attention. Ivan's head snaps up to him, frightened but more alive than Vlad has ever seen him.

"Drowning," Ivan spits out, coughing hard once more, and water sputters out of his mouth. He scratches at his throat, trying to stop. Vlad grabs his hands and Ivan then screams, kicking away from him.

"Do not you dare touch me Sergei!" Ivan's voice shifts, taking on a higher pitch, female, and no longer spitting up water. Vlad stares wide eyed at him. Ivan scratches at his arms, then freezes. He lifts his hands out together, then brings them sharply to his chest pantoming another death he experienced and blood starts to pool where his hands thumped against him. He begins to fall but Vlad is next to him faster than humanly possible. He holds Ivan up, tucking his head to his neck and wrapping him tightly in his arms.

"Ivan come back to me," He says evenly as he can though his nerves are shaking. Ivan whimpers, pushing against him, but Vlad refuses to let him go. Not now.

"Your name is Ivan, you died due to freezing," Vlad says, recalling exactly what killed the soul this time around. Ivan shakes violently, then he grips onto Vlad's coat tightly. He sobs loudly into the fabric, digging his finger's into the reaper's back. Vlad tilts his head to Ivan's offering some more comfort to the broken spirit.

"You are in the town of your sisters, you are with me," Vlad goes on, saying obvious statement to bring Ivan back to who he is now. He grits his teeth as the soul continues to cry. He feared something would happen to Ivan if he kept to the world with no substantial holdings. His soul is losing itself.

"I have you, you are safe, you are strong," Vlad goes on. Ivan's cries come to a slow halt. Vlad bends and picks Ivan up, now exhausted from all the energy expended even though the soul has none left to give. He carries the spirit with him, calling the darkness to take him someplace safe.


The episode is not the last. Ivan has many more, each one a different mixture of the lives he had before, and each one Vlad holds him close, saying words of truth to bring Ivan back to him. Sometimes it takes seconds, sometimes hours, but Vlad does not give up on him. He can't, not when the soul has so clearly given up for itself.

Vlad glances behind him when Ivan makes an appearance in the doorway. He sits down on the steps and watches Vlad as he waters the flowers. A new house has been created near the flower patch, though the owners have died, it has yet to be claimed by someone new, making it their safe haven for just a little while longer. Vlad moves the bucket over the plants, calm in the moment.

He freezes up when he spies Ivan besides him. He watches with his breath held as Ivan kneels down to a small bush of flowers. Ivan reaches out his hands, cupping the flower buds and bringing them closer to his face, taking in their scent. Vlad nearly drops the bucket in his hands.

There is a light in Ivan's eyes that Vlad has not seen. Something different from the pain and panic of an episode, and nothing like the abandoned look of his regular stare. This light is happy, bright, worthwhile. Vlad finds himself staring, not even looking away when Ivan blinks up at him though he does feel heat coming to his cheeks. Ivan stands, smiling at him and taking the water bucket from his hands, and continuing to water the flowers.

Vlad stumbles back out of his way. He watches in awe as Ivan helps bring life to something. All this time Ivan degraded Vlad for caring for plants that will die eventually, yet there he is, giving them a few extra minutes of life. Ivan turns to face him, smiling softly and all Vlad knows is it's one of the most beautiful sights he's ever seen.


"I hated everything," Ivan whispers. Vlad watches him simply, holding his hand tightly and squeezing back when Ivan does so first.

"They all treated me differently," Ivan closes his eyes tight, shaking softly. It had been Ivan's idea, but Vlad's not so sure about going through with it. The soul suggested talking about his past lives, maybe then he would be able to differentiate between them and this life. So they sat in the house, in front of the fireplace that Ivan got working, and Vlad listened. He had to leave twice for other souls, leaving Ivan to take a moment to himself.

"And then after that.." Ivan trails off, bringing up his legs to hold them to him. Even though he's close already, Vlad scoots closer, pressing them together. Ivan takes this as an invitation to lean his head on Vlad's shoulder. The reaper will not complain.

"Vlad, why do you save lives?" Vlad narrows his eyes at the question. Never has he heard him skewing the odds phrased like that before.

"I think life is precious," He responds. Ivan takes a shaky breath in.

"Even mine?" It's barely a whisper. Vlad glances down at the soul curled up next to him. He squeezes Ivan's hand.

"Every single one of them," Ivan shudders, curling farther into his side and Vlad wraps his arms around him, bringing even the smallest bit of comfort to the soul. It's the least he can do.


There's an odd warmth about holding Ivan's hand. Though Vlad barely initiates contact, he likes it. He likes the company Ivan brings. He leans his head to Ivan's on the bench they claimed nearly 40 years ago. The soul hums quietly, randomly giggling at nothing, looking more alive than Vlad has ever seen him. Ivan has been helping with the flowers more, the spark of light in his eyes getting brighter with every passing day.

"Vlad," Ivan breaks the lack of words. Vlad angles his head slightly to face him. Ivan takes a deep breath and stands to be in front of him. He takes the white scarf off his neck and wraps it around Vlad. The color shifts when it touches him, not used to the aura of death he gives off.

"Thank you. You will remember me da?" Ivan tilts his head cutely, smiling brightly. Vlad raises an eyebrow to the words.

"I will be back," He says. Vlad doesn't see it coming. Ivan nabs his scythe, swinging it just a little and creating a rip. Vlad shouts his name but Ivan slips through. He puts his hands on the edge of the hole, trying to hold it open but he can't. The starry mass on the other side pushes back at him, stinging his being, knowing he is not living. It seals forcefully on him. He's left staring at an empty space in the snow. He reaches a hand up to grip the scarf tight. His own being and the other side stained it red.

He wraps the article of clothing farther around his neck, believing with all of his being, that Ivan meant what he said. He has not seen that level of life in a long time.


Vlad lifts his scythe to the base of the dying tree branch, hooking it with the blade, and with a mighty tug he pulls it down, making a loud noise. The person in the snow moans weakly, slowly freezing, but Vlad can feel life being brought back to them as the people on the hill come over, soon shouting for more help. Vlad feels another then. He walks out into the clearing, spotting another reaper leaning up against a tree. He comes closer and the reaper nods lazily to acknowledge him.

"You did nothing," Vlad says plainly and the other shrugs. Their outfit is not fit for the cold of his region, an open shirt provides no warmth. The other reaper puts their razor styled scythe in their pocket. Vlad raises an eyebrow to them and their apathetic look.

"Something besides the weather has made you cold," Vlad has seen that look in their eyes before. There is something dead inside the reaper before him besides their position in existence.

"And?" Vlad doesn't know what to say to that. He sighs and leans up against the tree as well, silently watching the snow fall. Silence is easy, he knows it very well. He also knows the reaper next to him is missing something.

"My name is Vlad, and I hope you find your warmth," Vlad nods his head and steps away to disappear. He really does hope that reaper finds what he's missing. He sighs, feeling the scarf around his neck as he keeps going with his job. What Vlad is missing, he's waiting to come back to him.


This war is the most devastating he's seen. He tried hard to keep lives put together, but he couldn't handle all the chances. Some died, and he couldn't help them. He places his hand to another body just recently shot. Their soul comes out as the small rabbit, hops to him and transforms to the man.

"Ah," They say. Vlad doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't know why they are talking to him in the first place.

"Would you be able to help me before I go?" The soul asks him, taking a step closer. Vlad tries to not glare at the request. As much as he would like to help, he doubts he would do much good. There are other souls to get to. He nods his head though, because it is his job to help the souls be at rest.

"I'm looking for someone, someone like you. They have blonde hair, and look very sad. Do you know one like that?" The soul says. Vlad stares off in the distance. He doesn't know many reapers to begin with. He catches sight of the apathetic reaper, who looks anything but calm, staring straight at the soul in front of him.

"Please, I've been looking for so long," The soul catches his attention again. He understands now exactly what is missing in that reaper's life. His shoulders drop as he faces the soul again, nodding his head.

"I think I know who you are searching for," He says a little sharply. The soul smiles anyway.

"You are looking for a region in the French country," If he recalls correctly, that is where the apathetic reaper is from.

"Thank you, thank you so much," The soul beams and Vlad can't take the look any longer. He swings his scythe up, dragging it down and creating a large rip, letting all the souls out in the open go through. Once they are all through, he walks over to the apathetic reaper, now on the ground and barely weeping.

"I'm sorry," He says. The disheveled reaper doesn't react so Vlad kneels, placing a hand on his head comfortingly as he can.

"He could not stay, not when his soul was bound to me," Vlad tells him quietly. The other nods their head weakly and Vlad removes himself when he's pushed away. He goes back to his job, sending out thoughts that the soul can find it's way. Hoping that maybe Ivan is somewhere searching for him too.


Watering flowers is much more lonely by himself. Vlad has to stop, afraid his negative thoughts will somehow affect the flowers before him. He holds the bucket tight to his chest, running his fingers over the scarf around his neck. He closes his eyes tight and thinks of the words Ivan told him just before leaving.

Vlad misses him. It is not that hard to tell. He misses the easy silence and the soft words when they do speak. Being with Ivan felt natural. Being with Ivan helped him feel alive for just a moment. He looks to the sky, turning dark in the coming night.

"Come back to me," He whispers for no one to hear but himself, and that makes him feel all the more alone.


"Come on!" Anastasia shouts. The other firefighters follow her into the building. She pushes her way past the falling boards, searching desperately for the voice she heard in the house. She breathes as slowly as she can, eyes scanning the house for any sign of life. She swears she heard someone.

"Fuck Ana!" She ignores the yells of her second in command Julchen. She hisses into the radio and keeps going, unafraid of the fire around her. Fire is not the worst thing she's ever experienced. Nearly drowning when she was seven and the abusive boyfriend she tossed out years ago, she's not really afraid of anything anymore.

"There!" She says. She pushes her way into the room, hoisting the small child in her arms and sprinting as fast as she can out of the building. Julchen runs right next to her, swearing up a storm. They make it outside just as the building comes falling to the ground.

The boy is out of her arms and back to the parents and Anastasia takes off her helmet. She takes a deep breath of the smokeless air, fumbling for her inhaler. It's in her face soon, handed to her by Julchen.

"Please be careful next time cause-" and Anastasia can't hear anymore. She wobbles, her head getting dizzy. He tries to breathe, tries to get the medication out of the inhaler but it doesn't work. Her lungs close up and she begins to cough. She briefly can hear Julchen screaming for her but it's no use.

She jumps when she can breathe again, spinning her head in circles. Julchen is screaming over her body, trying to pump air into her body but it's no use and she knows that now. It takes a moment, but she remembers the lives before her, especially the one with a tall quiet reaper.

"Where is he?" She's on her feet and in front of the black hooded person instantly. They stare wide eyed at her, blinking comically. She huffs.

"Vlad, where is he?" The reaper makes an 'oh' face and begins to move their fingers rapidly. Anastasia recognizes the pattern of sign language.

"Russia, thank you," She bounces on her heels as the silent reaper makes a rip for her. She crawls through quickly. She has somewhere to be.


Even after all those years, Vlad still sheds a tear for those who die. He wipes away the one making it's way down his cheek as the mother is finally reunited with the son that left her far too early. They hug tightly, barely looking to Vlad as he swings his scythe in the air for them to go through. When they are gone, he goes walking. The pull doesn't come to him right away and the town he is in has been remodeled and redone. However, the single bench in the middle of the town remains. He takes a seat on it and watches the people walk by.

Even though he had been alone before Ivan came to him, spending all that time with him has left a mark. Vlad runs a finger over his scythe blade. He's not fond of loneliness. He hopes Ivan isn't lonely wherever that soul is. He hopes so much for them, but mostly, he hopes they are happy, and that their light has not died. He wipes away a new tear that comes down.

A pull comes to him and he slips away, finding this death to be peaceful, and unstoppable.


Anya hums lowly, dusting the shelves of the library with a smile on her face. She runs the place all by herself, having built it up by her own doing. It's her pride and joy, the silence that comes with the books. Her hum slows down as she wishes she could have someone to share the silence with, but that is the least of her worries, barely having any worries at all. She has a stable job and a stable life. She's very happy with the peace she's created for herself.

She takes a deep breath, being done for the day. She locks up the building and makes her way home, wobbling only slightly. She's lived a long time, now old in her age. Her younger years filled with memories of the hospital until age forced her into retirement. Refusing to sit still she vouched and petitioned for the library to be built.

She gets home and sits in the small armchair, curling up and humming once more. Though she may have felt like she's missed something or someone in her life, she loves it. The library is her pride and joy and will go to a good owner. She's happy as she falls asleep, and doesn't expect to wake up.


The little librarian looks peaceful as she sleep, and Vlad almost feels bad taking her soul away. He places a hand on hers, backing away as her soul exits in the shape of the woman. Vlad watches as her appearance grows younger. Then she looks at him and he pauses. She walks to him with a soft smile on her face.

"I came back," She says and Vlad tenses. She giggles and continues to talk.

"Thank you. You gave me the strength to live that time. But I could not shake off the feeling like something, or someone was missing." She steps closer and Vlad nearly backs away, unsure of what to do in this situation. She giggles again and runs her hand over the scarf around his neck. Tentatively he relaxes, putting his scythe to the side and letting her step closer into his personal space.

"Please let me stay with you. You are as lonely as I was, da?" She looks up at him sweetly. Vlad releases a shaky breath to the violet color of her eyes, the absolute life inside them. He could barely recognize them being used to the dull look of before. He reaches a hand up to her touch her cheek and she leans into the affectionate gesture.

"You want to stay with me?" He whispers out. She hums happily and nods, getting even closer to be pressed up against him.

"I am bound to you, you are what holds me here," She places a hand over the one he has on her cheek. He nods gently, then grips her tight, wrapping his arms around her quickly. She returns the hold just as quick.

"Life is no fun without you," She says and Vlad suppresses his urge to cry. He's overwhelmed, no one has ever wanted to stay with him so much they would come back. He can feel her life beneath his hands. He feels utterly honored, that such life would want to be with him.

"I missed you цветок," He chokes out. She laughs once more, petting his hair.

"Me too цветок, me too."


"This place feels familiar, but I do not know it," Anya says once they touch ground in the United States. Vlad doesn't respond with words, simply guiding her along by their linked arms to the area they need to be at. She keeps looking around, face twisted up ever so slightly in thought.

"Hey! Thought you'd be here~" Vlad stops their walking, both of them looking over at the punk looking reaper sitting on the edge of a wall, a small butterfly on his shoulder. He hops down from the ledge and the butterfly transforms into the shape of a young man. Vlad feels Anya tense beside him, barely noticing the wide eyed look the spirit man gives her.

"Van?!" He asks incredulously. Anya steps around Vlad, coming closer to the man.

"Amelia?" She asks quietly. Vlad winces as the man screams out happily, enveloping Anya in a giant hug. Anya returns the hold quickly, swinging the man in circles.

"Holy shit it's so nice to see you!" The man says once he's back on his feet. Anya giggles good naturedly and they are lost in conversation, calling each other the names of the selves they knew before. The punk reaper saddles up next to Vlad, a small smirk on his face.

"So, you too huh?" He asks. Vlad tilts his head to the side, enjoying the sweet smile Anya has on her face.

"I suppose so." Anya suddenly turns to them and marches right up to the punk reaper, squeezing him in a hug.

"Thank you for taking care of my Amelia," She says. The other reaper laughs awkwardly as Vlad is squeezed around his middle randomly.

"You made Van so happy!" Vlad practically shakes at the reverberation out of the man's voice. Anya drags him off, explaining briefly that they were married in a past life.

"It's just.. I'm happy I got to see you again," The man, Alfred now, says a little flustered. Anya says the same, linking her arm back with Vlad's. They wave goodbye and the punk and the butterfly leave to go to a new place.

"I'm happy they are in a good place now," Anya leaves her head against his shoulder. Vlad hums in agreement.

"I'm in a good place now." He doesn't seen it coming. She bounces to her toes quick, pecking his cheek gently. Heat goes to his face and she hums happily at his reaction. Vlad glances down at her once they are on their way. He's never felt so alive as he does with her.


AN: The title is based off the song "Stay the Night" by Zedd ft. Hayley Williams.