Sorry for taking so long, a busy life working nine to five, gives you a lot less free time then I was hopping. (You're probably sick of my excuses by now. Sorry.) I promise you, you won't go a year without a chapter though, not unless it's finished. Which will be an enormous while, but is everyone okay with this pace of things? I don't take any credit for the picture, or anything to do with the movies or books. Constructive criticism and reviews are magnificent. It makes me write faster too, because of the encouragement. I've been looking over my other chapters and I've noticed how much the formatting has changed (As well as a few other mistakes), which I will fix soon as I can, so it looks more professional.

Grimm's burn

"I'm surprised you believe in my type of death," explains Grimm, sitting cross-legged beside a brunette Indian boy, peering into his honey eyes and feeling the grass against her pale legs.

"Grandpa used to tell me stories about you; the old death reaped his brother," he replies, his deep Indian accent exposing itself, looking into the rich blue of the stream, listening to the deer graze in front of them, near the entrance of the forest. "While he was arguing with the old death, the skeleton blurted out with what was happening. Then they talked a bit. Skelly was apparently very angry about it all."

"I would imagine so," Grimm scoffed in return, leaning forward, reaching for the water with her soft, tiny hands, her silver waves brushing against the rocks while they rest near the fresh water.

"Grandpa told me that he seemed to need someone to talk to. He was curious about life after death and death needed to talk so, Grandpa thought it was perfect." He turns to face her, his round cheeks curving into a smile. "When I die, can you reap me?"

"Yes Jaldī, and I'm glad I ran into you," smiling back, her eyes light up with a hint of amusement as she uses her wet hand to brush her hair back. "Even though it was more, you chased me, I stopped, we talked, kind of thing."

Pitch's Lair

Sandy skitters through the multiple turns, formed by the rough, rock walls, listening to the echoing sound of his feet banging against the wrinkled stone floor, ignoring Death's scent in the air. His mind racing with numerous thoughts regrading Pitch's spoken words of this morning, apparently Grimm and Pitch are going through a rough patch, so Sandy's decided against his better judgement for the time being, to live with Pitch for a while, hopefully leading Pitch to maybe be more comfortable around him. To perhaps help Pitch trust him with the love of Grimm's, if she ever learns to love him back or ever gathers the feeling of love towards him, which probably won't happen.

Although it is weird that Pitch said he should go into Grimm's room if he wants to learn more about her, yet Pitch refrained from telling Sandy where it is in the lair; when asked he said it's in an area where none of them really go, but she shouldn't mind, however he's never entered it before. He didn't say why.

So, here Sandy is, trying to find her room, in Pitch's labyrinth of a lair, it's been hours since he started wondering. Everything looks the same, except for the occasional chair imbedded into the wall. He's seen several doors, but most were phony, others lead to other passages or hallways or rooms.

None of them felt right and this burning feeling inside of him always went cold when he opened them, as to why it's there, he doesn't know, but it's exorbitantly similar to the feeling before when he was gazing at the moonlight. This time though it seems like it's trying to help him find something; maybe it wants him to Grimm's room? He'll take whatever help he can get though.

India "Help!" screams Jaldī in the distance of where Grimm is, she could already hear the sirens, but at least she can keep her promise. Rising from her spot in the river where she was talking to Jaldī before, Grimm forms herself a Lion Tailed Macaque to ride. Pitch's Lair

Sandy stands in front of a door that looks just like all the others. The same rock, the same shape, the same handle, the same everything, yet this is where the warmth burns the most. Sandy was expecting it to look different, but it didn't and that just comes across as strange. He was expecting colours, something on the front, but no, it's almost as if she doesn't want anyone to find it, if this is her room. His heart racing as he reaches for the door knob.

India Fire, fire everywhere, smoke suffocates the air with its deadly gambol. Ash forms white freckles throughout Jaldī's decomposing, ebony skin. The firemen were too late; the former wooden home has already burned all of its inhabitants.

"You kept your promise," Jaldī' cries running toward Grimm, pulling her into an embrace.

"Yes, I suppose I did." Grimm's explains nonchalantly, deciding it'd be better if she stopped standing there awkwardly and joins him in their hug.

Jaldī's tears tickle Grimm's arm as he looks into her grim eyes, "I didn't think I would go so soon.."

"After we talked?" A small, miserable smile expands across her tiny, plumb lips, bringing attention to her prominent cheek bones.

"Yes, but I'm still really young, I'm only 16, I still thought I had 50 or so years left."

"It's sad how unpredictable death is, the people you want to say goodbye to the most, don't really get to hear the goodbye's you say when you're in your soul dust form." Grimm pulls away from the embrace bringing a hand up to cup Jaldī's cheek, using her pinkie to comfortably stroke it. "You and your loved ones were actually lucky; you had a warning, even if it was an uncertain one. It may not have been enough time, but fortunately you remarkably had some." Grimm steps away from him, observing her minions waiting for Jaldī's parents, he walks up behind her, taking her hand, searching her face. "So, many people don't even get a second, that's why we encourage the time before you decay to spend with your family, to say your goodbye's, because no matter what it helps them feel better, even if they know the loved ones can't hear it."

"You sound like you know this from experience…"

"I didn't really get to say goodbye, because my body was in resting state between being human," she removes her hand from his, "and becoming this," gesturing to herself, she looks down to the ground, her eyes dropping, avoiding eye contact.

"You sound like you wanted to…" His eye's becoming red from tearing; he notices a single drop of water fall from Grimm's eyes.

"I do want to, but I hate myself for that, I don't want to forgive them, however I already have. It didn't even take me long. Only a few days, then I forgave them for everything."

"What was there to forgive for?"

"A few things that led to my death…" Her eyes finally look up, searching his face for any judgemental signs, only finding curiosity.

"What age did you die?"

"Nineteen. I'm surprised you didn't ask 'like what'."

"I do want to; I just didn't think you'd tell me." He reaches for her hand, keeping his eyes on her face.

"You have good eyes." She hides her hands behind her back, stopping Jaldī's attempt to hold her hand "we're running out of time, you need to walk into the portal, unless you don't want to go to heaven."

"I do, but I also want to stay here and talk with you," he tips his head to the side, a shy smile, glimmering through.

"I can't go, where you're going."

Pitch's Lair

Moonflower scented candles hang from the ceiling on thin, silver holders, illuminating the room to a dim glow, revealing a red velvet carpet, smooth black cobblestone walls and an array of silver shelves alongside the back wall.

Sandy brushes his hand along black silk blankets, admiring the embroidered, red and sliver outlines of owls, cats as well as ravens, the onyx lace edging, all feeling soft against him. Smooth, thin streams of glittering metal looking similar to Pitch's nightmare dust, twist, swirl and twirl their way into the shape of this canopy bed. The same embroidered fabric as the blankets drupe down on all sides, forming an entrance to the bed on the left and right, but why is there a bed here on the right side of the room, if death doesn't sleep?

Sounds of skittering cause Sandy to remove his hand from the bed and look around. Where'd it come from? What was it? Curious, Sandy walks over to the shelves, inspecting all of them, discovering a large amount of sheet music, a few diamond necklaces, lots of different green teas, and a cooler. Why would she have a cooler in her room?

Something ginger flew past Sandy, announcing its presence, hiding itself under the bed. Slowly creeping towards the bed, Sandy's heart decides to skip a beat. Peering underneath the bed, it skips again; a red-chested owlet stands there pecking at its feathers, not taking notice of Sandy. What's this owl doing here, is it Death's pet?