This story was nagging in my mind much like the other stories and wasn't going to go until I wrote it down. When I wrote it down I was nagged ONCE again to put it under the previously named "Jack and Jill" SO now we have a "Series of Oneshots That Mean Nothing" I MUST warn that sometimes the ratings might go beyond T+ but I will add a warning just in case…
Disclaimer: Chase Young, Grim and any characters from their shows don't belong to me.
Our story starts in Ancient China, were a temple, still in its planning stages shall one day stand. Instead in its place, stood a young man. He wore olive-green armour that sometimes shifted to a dark gold colour depending on were the light shone. His long, black hair obscured his face. He was looking down the hill at the lake. There wasn't a single ripple thanks to the 'missing in action' of the wind. He smirked and kicked a rock the size of a head across the lake. Small ripples appeared making his smirk grow larger. Ever since Hannibal taught him the evil ways he felt as if every single pressure that had ever been upon him had been lifted. Evil gets to do whatever it wanted, it will do anything to get power over others unlike the good side that only did what was 'right'.
"But what is RIGHT these days?" he asked himself.
"Good question."
The man spun around but saw no one. He could smell the newcomer. The smell reeked of misery and despair, haunting and… death.
"Would it be 'right' if a robber took a sackful of the Emperor's coins just so he could feed his family of 5?
The man turned around and found the stranger. He was tall and sickly thin, the black robes hanging off the body. And why? The hands wear white and made of bone, the fingers curled around a long piece of black wood that ended with a metal, silver dagger. The face was the most horrid of all. It was a skull; the two black eyeholes that once had eyes stared at the man. In return he didn't cringe at the sight of the skeleton.
"And would it be right if the Emperor who rightfully owns the money, keep it stashed in a impenetrable room instead of giving it out to the needy public?" the skeleton continued, waving his right arm around, making the black robe move downwards so it exposed the bony arm. The forearm, the man corrected himself, it's a forearm.
"Yoo hoo? Chasie boy? Are you listening?"
The man who was called Chase shook himself out of his thoughts and looked at the skeleton with anger.
"How do you know my name?" he hissed. The skeleton seemed to take offence in this.
"Please, I know everyone's name! I'm Death after all, but you can call me Grim if Death sounds a little morbid." smiled Grim; technically he was already smiling since all skulls grin in a way. But obviously by just saying you are Death doesn't always mean that people will believe you.
"Well GRIM prove that you are Death." Chase hissed again. The skeleton put on an offensive look and gave a grumble. He lowered his hood, which had blood, red lining inside and proceeded to unscrew his head. Chase watched in amazement as the head came off after a few twists and then was used as a ball. The skull was juggled from one bony foot to the other before landing spot on the neck again. Chase stared for a while longer, before crossing his arms.
"I was hoping you would kill something and claim their soul but that was good enough." sighed Chase. Grim gave a disappointed frown.
"So you are Chase Young, the man that Hannibal Roy Bean has told me so much about." Grim sighed in the end. He approached Chase who remained motionless. Grim examined him top to bottom, left to right and in both diagonal directions.
"You seem suitable…" mused Grim. Chase raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Are you not curious to know what I'm talking about?" questioned Grim, with a sly look on his face.
"Whatever the question is, I will probably say no."
"Are you saying 'no' to immortality?"
This certainly got Chase's attention. He regarded the Angel of Death with a raised eyebrow, a sign to show he was listening.
"Did Hannibal give you a potion of a sort?" asked Grim. Chase nodded his head, earning a chuckle from the Reaper.
"How do you feel being on the side of the Heylin? Good, I bet. I can make that 'good' better but only if you listen to me. Hannibal has given you a potion that indeed makes you evil but what good would it is if your life span is short? Dragon, the main ingredient does indeed make you strong and a dragon but it refuses to share its immortality with you. Am I right?"
Nod.
"Give me something I crave and I will cease yours. Would you Chase do anything to achieve immortality?"
Nod.
"Give me your soul"
Nod wait WHAT?!
"WHAT?!" yelled Chase, staring at Grim wide eyed.
"But don't I die if I give you my soul?" asked Chase after he regained his composure.
"You would but the potion cancels out that possibility. Think Chase, I'm giving you something mortal men dream of."
Chase eyes the skeleton suspiciously and extended his hand to which the Reaper extended his own and shake it. That was the night Chase had turned truly evil and the night his whole village was killed. Grim stared from the hill as he watched the huts of the innocent burn and their cries of pleas and misery mix with the howl of a crazed dragon.
"I never thought you could do It." smiled Hannibal, a giant bean with yellow eyes. Grim looked at the bean with a smile.
"Since I won that bet it is time for you to get imprisoned." chuckled Grim. Hannibal gave a grumble as Grim laid a skeletal hand on his head, reducing him in size.
"A bet does indeed take out the best of you." Grim chuckled again as he opened a portal to imprison Hannibal. The bean scoffed at the remark.
"I spoke to the Oracle about this. You should see what a bet does to you!"
"What will it do to me?"
"You'll see. You'll be stuck with a best friend for life…"
Okay, that is over and done with! If you have an idea send it in. I have plenty more stories in my brain to put done on paper! R & R!!!