Robert Stacey Valentino was not easily frightened.
After living with parents who just happened to be overly happy with death, living in the supernatural aura of Gravity Falls, etc., it was safe to say that Robbie was pretty much desensitized to it all. That is, until he met the craziness that embodied the entire being that was the Undertaker. When he saw the threatening scythe fall slice through the air like melted butter, his mouth fell open as he let out a tremendous scream. As the glinting metal neared its target, Robbie intuitively knew.
Robbie knew that this was the end.
He was going to die all by himself in the creepy area of the Gravity Falls woods. The only person accompanying him was a serial killer with a creepy obsession with Grim Reaper lore and a weird fashion sense. As a son of funeral directors, he can easily say without remorse that this was complete overkill to murder someone. Can things get any worse?
Finally, the metal made contact with Robbie's midsection and his world ceased to exist. All he could feel was the intrusion of an unfamiliar object cut through his insides.
Pain.
Pain.
Red.
Hot.
Scorching.
PAIN.
As the pain worsened and deepened within his abdomen, Robbie belatedly felt his eyes close. He may have been incorrigible teenager at best when he was alive, but now he was dying. The least that the lunatic could do when he was murdering him was to honor his last wish. Robbie, without much thought to how he looked, desperately bellowed—no, screamed—at the Undertaker.
"Please," Robbie gasped within the darkness of the self-consuming PAIN, "just make it quick…make it quick!"
Robbie was about to scream again, but he was suddenly interrupted by a new voice.
"Make what quick?"
Was that… a British accent?
Gasping, Robbie opened up his eyes only to be faced with a pair of sparkling emeralds. Where did they come—?
"Generally, I know I'm pretty dashing, or hot as you Americans might say, but I don't really bat for the other team," the pair of emeralds snarked. The blond shook his head at the teen's gaping mouth before holding out a hand to help him out form the floor.
Despite the act of goodwill, Robbie refused the hand and stepped back. Warily, he took in the sight in front of him.
The young man, probably a few years older than him, was dressed in a dark pressed suit. White oxfords covered his feet and a pair of glasses was placed on the bridge of his nose. If it weren't for the fact that Robbie had been nearly cut in half by one of his relatives, he would have automatically decked the guy in the nose for making fun of him. That didn't stop Robbie from scrambling away from him and yelling like he was getting gutted again.
"Who are you?" Robbie yelled. The teen surveyed his surroundings and gasped. Was this a library? Rows upon rows of shelves were filled with books and some people were busy bustling around with carts. Clearly, the building didn't look too threatening, but Robbie was just murdered. He deserved to be a little paranoid. "Where are we? Am I—?"
"Dead?" The blond asked cheekily. "That would be kind of ironic considering that you're going to be working in my division! Ronald Knox, at your service!" The blond gave the teen a wide smile as he gestured for him to follow. Not wanting to trust the stranger, but also wanting to get some more answers, Robbie reluctantly obliged him.
"What do you mean that I'm going to be working in your division? I haven't applied for anything."
"Of course you haven't. In our line of work, you get chosen."
"Chosen to do what?"
"Didn't the old timer tell you? You're going to work as our new Reaper!"
In the Undertaker's line of work, everything was an absolute. There were no ifs, ands, or buts. If a person deserved to die, then so be it. If a person wanted to get a cherry wood coffin, fine. If a colleague of yours accused you of jumpstarting the zombie apocalypse, then you had them terminated. However, that didn't prepare the Undertaker to foresee the girl's intervention.
In his line of work, variables were to be dealt with.
Rationally and without any biased emotion.
"My, my…didn't your parents tell you that there are monsters waiting in the dark?" The Undertaker casually asked the young girl. Although he wasn't too fond of brats, especially those who got themselves entangled in paranormal activity, he felt a certain…fondness for this one. The brunette had this energy about her, all chaotic with a dash of curiosity. It was a nice change from young kids who got themselves holed up in a corner with some newfangled device. Still, the girl was out of her nest and presently intertwined within the politics of the supernatural. She was going to ruin everything if she stayed.
Instead of screaming, like he halfheartedly thought she would, she merely scrunched up her nose and started to speak.
"Are you friends with Bipper?"
Taken aback, the Undertaker looked to the demon dressed in human clothing for guidance. It wasn't every day that he found a young girl willing to talk to him. In fact, it wasn't every day that he found a young person with a handy grappling hook either. How interesting, the Undertaker thought to himself. Perhaps, I should help her out and exterminate the demon as well. Perhaps, a few laughs are in my future!
Bill, feeling a little put out that Mabel was paying more attention to the Undertaker than him, shouted, "Well, well Shooting Star! It's nice to see you without that horrible little puppet show of yours!" The demon flashed his teeth in front of this 'Shooting Star' as the young girl glared at him.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and retorted, "Hey! That was a masterpiece you stupid dorito!"
A hint of a feral smile lit up the Undertaker's face as he heard those words come out the girl's mouth. Now, of all the things that had occurred in Gravity Falls that had to be the funniest thing he had ever heard!
"Demon, I like this Shooting Star."
An uncertain expression passed on Mabel's face. Should she take the comment as a compliment or be fearful that both supernatural beings expressed an interest in her? The brunette bit her lip, but decided to let the matter rest. Her brother was in danger and she needed to ascertain if the white haired gentleman was the good guy. Maybe being quiet could help her out.
"That's great and all," Bill began sarcastically, "but I think you should be more focused on me rather than that little girl."
Screw being quiet. Bill was a jerk.
"Hey! I'm going to be thirteen at the end of this summer!" Mabel called out indignantly. She placed both of her hands on her hips as she gave both of the males a look of complete fury. "And what are you doing with my brother's body, Bill!"
"Didn't I tell you?" A faux look of surprise passed on Bill's face before he laughed at Mabel's enraged expression. "Your stupid Pine Tree didn't specify when the deal was over."
"Then got out of his body so that we can get a new deal!"
"Kid, that's now how life works, but I admire your spunk!"
The Undertaker decided to cut into their situation. Frankly, he found it a bit unfair that he was being ignored. He stalked over to the young girl who was currently tugging at the demon's arm. The demon, on the other hand, stayed rooted on the spot, but the demon looked like he was enjoying the feeling of getting his arm nearly dislocated.
"As much as I would love to exchange pleasantries with you, little girl, I suggest you leave. " The Undertaker smirked at the girl's paled skin when he neared her with his scythe visibly in tow. "I wouldn't want a cute young thing like yourself get put into a coffin so early!"
Mabel gulped apprehensively, but the demon merely shook his head at the Undertaker's antics.
Robbie stared uncomprehendingly at the blond man.
"Does that mean I'm not dead?"
Ronald blinked at the young man's inquiry before rolling his eyes. It was hard to imagine that he was that stupid and clueless back when he was a rookie as well. It was a good thing that they chose him to do the job because good ol' Spears would have smacked the stupidity off the boy's face.
"Didn't the old timer slash you with his scythe?"
"Er, yeah…why do you ask?"
"Then you're more than likely dead." Once Robbie's eyes darkened, Ronald immediately backtracked. "I mean, your body is dead, but your soul isn't, which is why you're here."
"Does this mean that I'm in heaven? Or something close to it?"
"Sort of. As a new Reaper for our association, you're in the in-between. Limbo. A cushy version of purgatory. That's why you're dead; all training Reapers have to be deceased in order to carry on the legacy."
"Training? Do I have to go back to school or something stupid like that?"
"Now you're getting it! You'll have forty days training with us, but don't worry about tuition costs because—"
"That's like eight weeks! In case you haven't noticed my parents aren't going to take this easily! I bet they're mourning for me—How long have I been dead?" Robbie began to pace like a madman in this strange separate reality as he began to fully look at his situation. Quickly, he rounded on the unsuspecting Reaper and grabbed the blond by his shirt collar. "How long?"
"Calm yourself, Valentino," Ronald warned. The man's emerald eyes darkened in displeasure as he extricated himself from Robbie's hold. Robbie didn't dare do anything more—there was something awfully predatory in how the man removed himself from his tight hold. "I wager that only a few minutes have passed. If the old man hasn't been lying to me, then you're more than likely in bed with your parents making sure that you're all right."
"That's great." Sarcasm heavily accented his voice. "But that doesn't explain—"
Ronald sighed before he took out a few notecards from the insides of his suit jacket.
"Look, for some odd reason the higher ups decided that I should be the one to welcome you. Maybe it's because I'm closer in age physically…and possibly mentally. Nevertheless—please don't interrupt me Valentino, I could make you dead for real…" Robbie groaned when Ronald looked pointedly at him, but the younger man nodded to affirm his silence for the time being. "Anyway, before I was interrupted, I was going to address the issue of your schooling. Apparently, I'm more than sure that the Undertaker has been feeding you a load of bollocks, most of which is an exaggerated truth."
Ronald cleared his throat before continuing. His voice and mannerisms felt like that he had been rehearsing his speech for how knows long. It felt too practiced and too cut and dry for Robbie, but he felt a little grateful that he was finally receiving answers.
"Yes, you have been chosen to replace the old man. Yes, you are dead. Yes, we are all Grim Reapers, Bringers of Death, what have you. And yes, before you ask, you have no choice in the matter. Any questions so far?"
Robbie took in all of the information before shaking his head.
"Good, because this is the part where things get a little baffling. The Undertaker has requested that, and I quote, 'the boy must undertake the necessary education and the training in order to succeed.' And that's all about it."
"If I'm dead, then why do I have to go through school?"
"It's not so much school as going through many trials before you finally get to customize your scythe and go out killing people."
Queasiness entered the pit of Robbie's stomach at that statement.
"Killing…people?" He squeaked.
Mabel was not the best when it came to situations where she had to be tactful and wary. Dipper was the one who was wary and read the atmosphere. However, pinned between two monsters that may or not kill her…was causing her to rethink all of her decisions. Of course, she would always choose to follow her brother for both of their sakes, but she realized that swinging from tree to tree like Tarzan probably wasn't the right way to go about it. If an animated character can do it, why can't her?
Yeesh, reality had so much double standards, it sucked.
Hmm…If she got out of this one alive, she was going to become president and persecute all of those silly cartoons for being too awesome!
Right now, the two monsters (one in her brother's body and the other some creepy old guy) were staring each other down. Mabel wouldn't be too surprised if Bill had the foresight to carry some kind of weapon on him, but Mabel was freaking out about the old man's scythe. This long range weapon seemed to glide through the air gracefully whenever the Undertaker swung it. It was mesmerizing to see it arc through the air, slicing imaginary foes with one swipe, but it was so deadly. Deep in Mabel's gut, she knew that this little adventure in the midst of many other misadventures was far more deadly than she had imagined.
What would have Dipper done if the roles in this situation were switched? Mabel wondered.
Bill spoke up to break the silence.
"Loved the chat, limey man, but I want you to get out of Gravity Falls. This territory is mine and no one else's." The demon bared his twelve year old teeth and Mabel shivered at the sight. It was like the demon had no concept of human boundaries. The way he just effortlessly stretched the skin so far back, it was all so mechanical and fake. Words could not describe how terrified Mabel felt when she saw that the grin was not only aimed at the Undertaker, but also at her. "And you…I have some big plans so you better leave me and your brother alone if you want to escape out of this alive."
Mabel shook her head. Even though she was outnumbered, she was going to stick by her brother's side and fight for his body. The old man could be a problem, but at the same time he could be an advantage. Likewise, the Undertaker knew that the little Shooting Star must have been wronged in some form or other. Obviously, it had something to do with the little boy the demon inhabited. If he could have some sign that the little girl trusted him…maybe this could push the demon out of Gravity Falls for good…
Quickly, the Undertaker moved over to the girl's side without taking his eyes off of the demon. The situation was highly volatile; there was no way this little girl was going to leave him alone if he didn't protect the boy's body as well.
Bollocks, he wanted to curse.
"Little girl," he simpered, "how would you like to aid me in culling the demon?"
Mabel looked unsure as she took in the darkness that clothed the man. She looked up at his white bangs and stared in shock at the green—no, emerald—that glinted through the white mass. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, there was only one thing that she could do.
She nodded and raised her grappling hook.
"Good. Flying mortal away!" Roughly, Undertaker grabbed her waist with both of his hands (he was careful to not cut her with his scythe) and threw her at the demon.
Yes, this would be an interesting battle indeed.
Minutes passed.
Weeks passed.
And then his forty days were nearly at an end.
The young teen found himself maturing at an alarming pace. Gone was the petulant teen who valued the 'in crowd' and labels. As the weeks passed, he trained in the art of reaping the poor mortal souls that inhabited the earth. At first, he rebelled against the traditional classrooms, but he quickly adapted to the cool environment and that his teachers were all awesome. They were all trained Reapers who valued quick killing and rational judgment. He had been a little wary about killing people, but he quickly changed his thinking.
He had a few issues with the dress code ("Do I really need to wear a suit?") and that his eyesight exponentially deteriorated during his time there ("Dude…these glasses totally make me look like a nerd."), but he quickly grew accustomed to the adjustments.
Once his testing with the practical portion of the Reaper business was over, the grueling, physical part of it transpired. He had been fairly decent when he was just the average freshman in high school in gym, but he found himself struggling to maintain optimal fitness. Robbie had been forced to work extra hours in order to excel, but his body hardened and his mind sharpened. Pretty soon, he was practically at the top of the class.
"Hmph, sparring again? One might think that you relish being called the teacher's pet," Ronald groaned. "You used to be so fun, then you had to go all William T. Spears on me!" The blond spat out the name half-jokingly as he looked at Robbie's progress report. He had been quickly marking off all of Robbie's accomplishments before he stared at that one final test.
Robbie shrugged at his mentor's blasé attitude before replying, "Anything to get out of here sooner. Besides, I don't like being called a loser by people who think they're superior to me." The dark haired brunet pushed up his rookie glasses up the bridge of his long nose. His green eyes, similar and yet so different from the rest of the Reapers, glinted with hardness. "Am I done yet? This is my last day here. Where's my scythe?"
Ronald slapped him hard with a clipboard before laughing at Robbie's masked eagerness.
"It feels like it's been years since you've died! I'll miss you when you finally earn that scythe of yours." Robbie glowered at the blonde's bold display of affection before Ronald took the hint and finished his speaking. "Your last test is the one that will ensure that you'll get your scythe if you pass."
"Bring it," Robbie challenged.
"You Americans and your flair for dramatics. Anyway, you have to observe a person who is about to die and mark them down if you want them to die or not. From your studies, I assume that you know that there are few people who actually get the honor of surviving the judgment of a Reaper."
"Of course. Who is my target? Or is that classified?"
Ronald handed him another clipboard and Robbie looked down at the document before paling.
"It can't be possible!"
Bill knew that Reapers were notorious for restoring order (which was everything against Bill's philosophy of chaos and fun) but this was completely uncalled for! Here he was, an innocent Master of the Mind and resident Dream Demon of Gravity Falls, and they had just thrown a mortal at him! And not just any puny little human! Oh no, the Undertaker had to pitch Shooting Star as if she was a baseball! Really, he didn't care for the sweater enthusiast, but he could tell that she was taken off guard and that she may have bruised him in places—
"By the gods! Why do the space between my legs hurt to badly?"
Pain was hilarious.
And then there was pain that was hilarious.
Shooting Star groaned before she properly pinned him to the forest ground. Although she was a little out of it, her face held a grin and a few chuckles escaped her. However, her mirth faded when she got a proper look at his yellow eyes and slits for pupils. Roughly, she shook him by the collar and yelled at the demon.
"Give me back my brother! And while you're at it, leave the town alone!"
Bill merely grinned at her forcefulness.
"Never, Shooting Star!" A wicked thought came to him and he said, "Oh, and do please keep on tightening your hold on me! I like the feeling of rocks digging into my back and my arms getting pushed to their limit!"
For a moment, Mabel was unsure about her present predicament. She wasn't sure what the old man was thinking, so she continued to hold Dipper's body down. However, she also didn't want to give Bill what he craved. For all their sakes, Mabel hoped that the lunatic would do something before she was forced to do something drastic.
"And to think that you were actually a threat," the Undertaker said patronizingly. He knelt by the little boy's body in a mockery of comfort. Even though his scythe was out of sight, Bill knew that any sudden movements or any spoken threats would result in immediate scythe handling. However, there was one thing that gave Bill the upper hand in this situation. "What do you say for yourself?"
Bill smirked at the Reaper despite the gravity of this situation.
"Funny how you say that when you're not at the top of your game either. Don't look at me like that Reaper! Having a little girl help you capture a demon isn't the best way to do it!" Bill seemed to relax in the girl's hold. "Face it, old man. You're dying and as of right now, you're weak."
Robbie woke up in his bed as he eagerly gasped for breath. For a second, he thought that everything that had happened was all a dream. As he swung his legs over his bed, he began to notice a few things that were odd. Why was he wearing a blazer? A suit? And did he always wear glasses? He flicked on his bedroom light and surveyed himself. Back in the Reaper's academy, he was forced to abide by the dress code, but he was able to get by with a semi-casual look without grating anyone's nerves. Nevertheless, he still stifled a groan because he was never a fan for the formal.
Once he adjusted to the idea that this was not a prank, he noticed that there was a clipboard on his bed. With a sense of dread, he nonchalantly trudged on over to his bed and flipped open the documents to get a look at his client's name. The spelling hadn't changed and the request to have him die wasn't either.
"Of all people," Robbie muttered. "Why him?"
It didn't matter. Judging from the small scythe that was securely wrapped around his belt, this job wasn't going to complete itself. No matter the consequences or his internal thoughts, the higher ups trusted him enough to undertake this endeavor.
He was not going to fail.
It was nearly half past one in the morning and the people of Gravity Falls lay clueless in their beds. How could they have imagined that there were supernatural beings haunting the forests of the sleepy town? How could they have known that there many anomalies roaming around their houses, perusing their stores, and mingling with the populace? How could they have fathomed that there was a secret organization bent on erasing bad memories, the gentry cheating the people of their money, and that a masochistic demon was hell-bent on raising chaos?
No one knew.
And no one could have known that there something terrible was going to happen within the forests of Gravity Falls.
Mabel panted from her strenuous effort at holding the demon at bay.
"What are you waiting for?" Mabel nearly screamed at the Reaper. She was the alpha twin, but she was still sleepy, hadn't had her daily dose of Mabel Juice, and Bill struggling wasn't helping her at all. If they were on the same side, then he would obviously help, right? "He's right here! So exorcise him with holy water or something!"
The Undertaker shook himself free of his murderous thoughts and grinned.
"Of course, my dear girl," he exclaimed. "What was I thinking!" He pulled out his scythe from out nowhere and aimed straight for Dipper's head.
Mabel screamed.
Bill winced, but laughed at his impending doom.
Just when the tip of the metal was going to puncture Dipper's chest, a voice rang out in the darkness. A bit gruff and a little whiny at the edges, but there was a trace of authority that made everyone stop in the middle of their actions. As if part of a hive mind, they all turned and stared at the suited figure that drifted through the trees like a ghost.
At first, the figure could have passed for any old person who just happened to pass through the forest. However, when he got closer, signs of recognition appeared on all of their faces.
"R-robbie?" Mabel stuttered in confusion.
"I see you have finally embraced your birthright, Little Dog," the Undertaker chuckled.
"Whatever, man. Get away from my assignment."
The moonlight reflected the glint in Robbie's new emerald eyes, but something else caught Mabel's eyes. When she saw the sickle hanging limply at Robbie's belt, she paled.
"Your assignment!?"
