"DEATH!" I bellow, scattering low-ranking Reapers in my wake upon my furious arrival into Headquarters.

"Yes, Master?" Death queries as he materializes before me, a tinge of satisfaction coloring his tone.

"What the hell is this?" I demand, waving my talons in his hooded face. I await his answer with gritted teeth, which reminds me that I still have the bloody fangs too!

"Ah. Seems you are a Wendigo Demon. Huh... I would have pegged you for a Serpent affiliation given your Parseltongue gift." Death muses as he inspects the claws. "Ironic given how pure you still are..."

"And what exactly does being a... Wendigo Demon even mean!" I ask in a deceptively calm voice, a tight smile plastered on my lips. You better not give me some cryptid bullshit either! I add mentally.

Death, seeming to sense he is starting to approach thin ice make the right call. "Well Master, you have unlocked the Demon characteristics that were gifted to you along with those of a Reaper and Angel. Basically, you have the powers of all three Immortal races and certain physical attributes and affiliations of each are connected to your being now."

"And why am I just now experiencing, much less, knowing about this?" I growl and Death actually shifts his weight back a bit at my dark tone. I probably look rabid with my bared fangs and the new tainted magic thrumming under my skin.

"You've already had experience wielding the powers of a Reaper, being the Master of Death and all. When you met the rogue Reaper, Undertaker, you unlocked what little power you were not aware of. That is why you did not notice your Reaper attributes as much because you have become used to them over the years before coming to this world." Death explains patiently and seems to relax slightly as I dial down my aggression. He continues before I can ask any more questions. "What you are going through now is the unlocking of your Demonic powers and the physical representations of your Demon species. Like with the Reaper, this has now been unearthed by being in the presence of a Demon. And also similar to how you learned to control and identify your Reaper abilities, you will have to do the same with your Demonic powers until they become just as familiar. And the same goes for Angels when you eventually encounter one."

I blink and inhale deeply through my nose, bringing up my hands to massage my temples as I process this new and frankly confusing information. "Why do I even have the powers of each Immortal? Why not just the Reaper, that is the most logical choice."

"The Fates seemed to think it would be necessary to bestow the other traits and magic upon you. I did not have the jurisdiction to question since I was allowing you to enter a new dimension. And as I am sure you now know, the rules of this dimension are a bit different from the one you came from."

I groan softly and bury my face in my hands. The adrenaline from the mission is slowly starting to drain away and I suddenly feel exhausted. I can also sense the Demon magic slowly settling back within my Magical Core, slumbering till I have need of it. A few minutes later the claws and fangs disappear as well.

"By the way, Master. The claws and teeth are only just a fraction of your actual Demon form. You'll have to figure out how to access it and shift if need be into the full embodiment of the Wendigo Demon." Death pipes up casually.

The only thing I can think of to utter is, "What is my life?"

"A three-way contradiction!" Death shoots back cheerfully.

I feel the overwhelming urge to cry...


A few days after my unexpected revelation I follow Death and William T. Spears to the room holding the yet-to-be-chosen Death Scythes. Dozens of weapons and tools line rows of wide shelves, sharp edges gleaming in the light. I glance at Death questioningly as we stroll down the aisles at a languid pace.

"Reach out with your magic, Harry. Like calls to like. Your Scythe will reach out for you and you to it."

I nod and close my eyes, loosening the grip I keep upon my vast stores of power. The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. Ollivander's voice, soft and mysterious, echoes across my subconscious as my magic brushes across multiple Scythes, searching. I can't help but smile faintly at the memory of getting my first wand. I was so naive back then...

Silence reigns save for the quiet beating of my heart.

Suddenly I feel it. My eyes snap open just in time for a long double-bladed glaive to fly down the aisles and into my outstretched hand. Just like when I first received my holly-phoenix feather wand, there is a feeling of deep warmth, of home. My Death Scythe seems to almost hum with approval and excitement. Are Scythes sentient? I wonder as Willam gives a respectful nod of acknowledgment and writes down the necessary information to get my weapon processed.

"Congratulations, Master." Death murmurs softly as we turn and exit the room. I can sense the entity's affection and it makes me flush slightly with fuzzy warmth. No matter how long I live I don't think I will ever get used to someone truly caring for me. Just for me.

And even though I am Death's Master he admitted that he always held some respect and admiration for me before I conquered him at his own game and acquired all three Hallows.

"Thank you," I reply and twirl the shaft of the weapon in one hand lazily, admiring the blades and testing its balance. The glaive preens to my amazement.

Death chuckles at my expression. "The Scythe of a Reaper is not unlike the wand of a Wizard."

I need to practice and get a better feel for this thing. I can't rely on magic all the time, especially if I run into the more powerful Immortals! I muse as William returns with the appropriate paperwork ready for me to sign. "I look forward to working more closely with you, my Lord." William intones in his deep, bland voice. However, his lime-green eyes betray the hint of nerves he is feeling being in the presence of his Boss and the most powerful Reaper to walk this dimension.

"Indeed. As do I, William. I'll do my best to lighten your load as much as possible." I offer with a reassuring smile, causing the Division Leader to tentatively return it with a small uplifting of his lips. I sign the paperwork with a flourish and with that I have officially claimed my very own Reaper's Scythe!

And now to practice, practice, practice!


Nearly two centuries and a half have passed since my first mission and the acquisition of my glaive.

During that time I have reaped many unique and amazing individuals, both altruistic and entirely reprehensible. Johan Bach was one of my first followed by the Tsar Paul 1st of Russia was not too long after. That was a... fun one. And here in recent years I've reaped and sent along into eternity Martin Delany and William Kelley.

My reputation has grown admirably, this time because of my skill and intuition in the field not because of my titles. Though the Master of Death and Master Reaper still hounds me due to the young newbies I come into contact with, much to my eternal aggravation! But beyond that things have been peaceful, no encounters with the other Immortals other than my fellow Reapers and low-level demons. I even managed to master most of my Demon powers and my Wendigo form. I was quite proud of that!

At this moment I'm casually leaping across the rooftops, my Invisibility Cloak shimmering like liquid behind me. I land at last in front of the Undertaker's shop and brush the few black strands of hair that escaped my tie back from my eyes as I walk into the parlor. "Undertaker, are you here?" I call out after a few minutes of silence. Usually, the Reaper greets me from his customary purple coffin with a maniacal giggle and slightly wary eyes.

"Sorry my, Lord." Undertaker demurs as he steps out of a curtained off doorway behind the counter. "I had a customer to make pretty. Nasty business this one. 'Tis enjoyable." He says with a soft sigh of delight.

I just nod and hop onto the counter, long since becoming used to Undertaker's zeal for his job. His passion, though...strange given the criteria, is something to be admired. But I have no room at all to judge. Quirks come with the profession of being a Reaper. "How have you been? I'm sorry it has been so long since my last visit."

Undertaker grins as he hands me a beaker of tea and I sip it appreciatively. He may be odd, but the rogue knows his teas!

"Aye. It has been more than fifty years hmm? Things have been good, plenty of people dying to do business with me, hehe!" Undertaker bites into one of his infamous dogbone biscuits and asks around a mouthful, "Did you ever figure out your Demon form, my Lord? Last I heard you were still struggling with the final transformation."

I nod, pride swelling in my chest."Yep! I look bloody terrifying! It took me a while to get used to being a skeletal deer-headed monster. You should have seen the first time William came across me in that visage. I never thought I'd see him scream that loud, nor that high-pitched!" I laugh at the horror I'd caused that day. Undertaker's boisterous laughter fills the shop and its infectious nature causes me to laugh harder.

After we catch our breath Undertaker proceeds to tell me about his recent clientele and how they most likely correlate to the Jack the Ripper Case. Apparently the Queens Guard Dog will soon be coming up to investigate. Intrigued I decide to stay in this part of the world till either the culprit for the grisly murders has been apprehended or something else fascinating captures my attention. Besides, I don't have any pressing duties right now...

Meeting this Guard Dog could prove to be just what I need to reconnect with my steadily fading humanity.


Hello all!

Finally decided to post a quick author's note.

Bold text are quotes from Harry Potter and Black Butler.

I'm only covering season 1 of the Black Butler anime as that is the only version I am familiar with (and I disliked season 2...)

Thanks for reading! Please review, my starving author soul needs it to live! ; )