Hey y'all, it's been a while! I got really busy with college and had like zero time. I also wasn't very motivated to write, especially after having to write multiple essays for several classes in a row. Anyways, enjoy!

The Reaper stood at the bottom of the Pit, holding out their lantern into the dark abyss. Their eyeless sockets remained trained on the crack in the sky, the Reaper not making a sound nor moving an inch as it waited.

The Grim Reaper matched many of its earthly descriptions. A skeleton with no eyes, a body with no soul, a being with the sole purpose of reaping souls. Stories have an uncanny way of reflecting the truth, as was the case for the Grim Reaper, who waited patiently on the shores of the Black Sea of Lost Souls. The Reaper was shrouded in a black sack cloth robe, a reaping scythe resting on its left shoulder. It was waiting for a particular soul, one they would snatch out of the sky the second it came tumbling through.

Hell was particularly quiet in that moment, as if the entirety of the Pit had taken a collective breath in anticipation. The Black Sea of Lost Souls lapped quietly against the red shore, and the gigantic Hell's Keepers waded through the sea without letting out a single pained wail. The Keepers were a secret that Hell had kept for eons, waiting for the troubled souls to plunge down to the last ring of Hell to discover these supernatural creatures. The Keepers were gigantic creatures, as tall as any skyscraper on Earth. They were emaciated from a long suffering period of starvation. They had no faces, no mouths, only horns that stretched wide like a deer. Their form was nearly humanoid, though instead of hands they had webbed claws, and instead of feet they had haunches like an animal. Their skin was like tightly wrapped bandages that covered the entirety of their body, the milky white skin tapering with ridges across their bodies. Some of the Elder Keepers covered their faceless heads with transparent, silk veils, creating the illusion of a horned bride. The Reaper in the eternity they had spent there, had never understood why some had chosen to cover their visages in such a way. They couldn't help but wonder if even the Keeper's could not bear to see the painful suffering of the Pit, even though they still wandered through the desolated world, crushing bodies neath their gigantic hooves.

The Keepers moved slowly all throughout Hell, feeding off the pain and infliction the souls in Hell felt every passing second. They were only one of many terrors in this last basin of Hell, but they of all creatures made the biggest impression. The Reaper paid them no mind, their eyes still trained on the firmament above them. When would she come tumbling down, Hell eagerly spreading open like a flower to accept her?

Just then, a dark crack began to spread across the sky. It cracked the sky open partially, just enough for a single soul to come tumbling through. And tumbling it came. The Reaper watched in silent satisfaction as the Fallen Angel fell through Hell. The angel's arms reached lifelessly to the sky, her hair, dark as obsidian flowing around her like rippling water. Her black wings fluttered uselessly in the cold air, feathers detaching from her and floating up and away.

The Reaper watched as she plummeted into the Black Sea, the water eagerly welcoming her. Calmly, the Grim stepped into the boat made of bones and began to make its way across the Sea to where the angle had fallen. Souls watched through the black water, their eyes wide as the Grim Reaper slowly but surely rowed to the angel. They dared not follow, for they feared this new being who had entered Hell, alive and still belonging to the land of the living. That, and the angel sword strapped to her back had not rejected her yet.

Yes. The Grim Reaper chuckled to itself. This will be an interesting turn of events.

Penryn

When Penryn awoke, she found herself being fished from a black ocean by a skeleton with no eyes. It pulled her from the ocean with the underside of its scythe, the blade cutting into the skin of her back slightly.

"Oh," It rasped, sounding as if this was the first time it had spoken in a millennia. "You're awake."

"Where am I?" She croaked, coughing up the water that had clogged her lungs.

"The last ring of Hell." It replied, hoisting her into the boat.

Penryn tumbled in, hacking violently on the floor. The robed skeleton said nothing, returning to stand at the end of the long boat where it began to steer them to the shore. Penryn shivered, the biting winds of hell leaching out any of the remaining warmth she had.

She had no idea what she was doing there, in fact she had no idea what was going on at all. Pulling her black wings close to her, she tucked her body in tight, trying to shield herself. She tried to wrack her brain, tried to bring up any sort of cognitive thought, but all she could think about was how cold she was.

"Why am I here?" Penryn asked the skeleton, barely able to say the words over the chattering of her teeth.

The skeleton said nothing, studiously pushing them forwards. Penryn tried not to let any panic set in. She had zero clue as to why she was here; in fact she had zero clue as to who she was. Her mind was a blank slate, wiped clean of any reminder of who she was or who she had been. The only thing that she could remember was her name.

Penryn looked over the side of the boat, rubbing her arms briskly as she shivered. She looked over the side of the boat, across the vast sea. A gigantic figure with no eyes and no face looked right back at her, its face following her as Penryn and the skeleton made their way to the shore. A chill separate from the cold she was already experiencing, ran down her spine. The figure was terrifying, as still as a mouse, and yet menacing in its silence. It promised pain that which Penryn had never known, unfathomable misery, despair-

"Stop looking at it." The Reaper said. "It will only make you mad."

Penryn quickly ducked her head, her thoughts swimming with what she had just experienced.

"What are those things?" Penryn asked.

"They are the Keepers of Hell." The skeleton explained. "They feed off all the suffering in Hell."

"So I'm dead." Penryn said.

"You must be the most alive dead person that I have ever met." The skeleton replied dryly.

"You're being very unhelpful." Penryn retorted.

The skeleton said nothing, just kept rowing them to shore. Penryn too, refrained from saying anything. She was unbelievably cold, and still shaken by the figure they had encountered. It wasn't that it had sucked every happy thought from her mind, it was what it had promised. In its eyeless gaze, Penryn felt its promise of suffering. When it had looked at her she knew that it would delight in drawing out every painful cry from her body, that it would feast on her pain. She had not seen death in its gaze, but a promise of slow and eternal torture.

Her wings folded protectively around her, the dark feathers having already shaken off most of the freezing water. Panic crawled up her throat, its acrid taste burning like acid on her tongue. She looked up at the firmament above her, trying to peer through the clouds to see where she had fallen from.

"It won't work." the Reaper said.

"What won't?"

"Flying out of here." They replied simply. "Hell is not so easily escapable. If it were, no one would be here."

"What comes down can always come up." Penryn insisted.

If the skeleton could smile, it would have in that moment. Instead, it just shook its head.

"This is Hell human," The Reaper replied. "Earthly rules do not apply here."

"So I'm stuck here?"

"For the time being."

"But I'm alive!" Penryn exclaimed.

"Tell me, where would you go?" the Reaper asked. "Who is waiting for you on the other side? Who will call your name and pull you out from behind the veil?"

"I don't know." Penryn answered truthfully. "But I know that this is not my place."

"And how can you be sure? Did you not just Fall?"

Penryn snapped her mouth shut, looking away from the robed skeleton. She wouldn't admit it, but the Reaper had spoken nothing but truth. Was she sure that she did not belong? In fact, she had just fallen from the sky, tumbling into the frozen waters. Matter of fact, she didn't even know if she had fallen, or if she had been thrown. It was all unsettling.

They spent the rest of the boat ride in silence, the Reaper methodically pushing them towards the shore. There was no other sound save the lapping of the water against the boat. At times Penryn swore she heard fingernails dragging along the underside of the boat, begging to be let in.

Finally they reached the black shore, the sand a deep hue of onyx. The Reaper pushed them on to the sand and elegantly stepped out of the boat. They waited on the shore, their scythe resting on their shoulder as Penryn struggled to get out. It took a minute for her to find her land legs, and so she tumbled out in a feathered heap. As soon as she got out the Reaper turned away from the Sea.

"Come on." they instructed.

"Where are we going?" Penryn asked, fully expecting for the Reaper to not answer.

The Reaper let out a deep chuckle. "To meet Death of course."