"I love this job sometimes!" He said, grabbing his scythe from off the ground and settling back into the seat of the machine. "I think I should go back a bit. Maybe just a hundred years or so, no need to over do it on my first time." His hands trembled as he barely tipped the left lever forward and the mysterious milky substance covered the strange time-ship followed by the horrid sensation of falling. Imagine that you are afraid of heights, and you are suddenly thrust off of the tallest thing you know. On top of that you are struck with an almost insurmountable sense of vertigo. With all of this you can imagine that it would become difficult to concentrate on when to stop the machine, making it hard to successfully navigate time using only the dials on the dashboard for guidance.
Grell proved no exception, not stopping one hundred years into his past but over two. The date read sixteen-eleven and there was something disturbing in the quiet around him as he regained his senses. He looked around and noticed, for the first time, that he had materialized in the middle of a busy town square. All around him people were staring at him, holding their breath as they came to grips with what they just saw.
The redhead seemed surprised at this. "Uh... Hello?" He said, lifting his hand off the lever. The crowd stood a little while longer before the cries of "Witch!" "Demon!" and "Sorcerer!" became the ambient noise of the square. There was, though, one cry that claimed that he was the messiah come to deliver them to paradise. He was however chased away by the few people who were close enough to hear him through the roaring crowd.
Grell was having a worse time than the man, though, because they had now begun to throw rocks and whatever they could find at him, threatening to damage the machine. He had no choice but to leave it for know and let them lock him up, then break out later that night without killing anyone and find the machine. He might wipe out an entire family tree by killing one person.
They closed in around him, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him out of the machine. He reluctantly left his scythe in the machine, not able to bring it with him without fighting for it. The sky above was nice and clear, allowing the sun to sun unhindered over the stone streets leading from the square to the dreary cells where they intended to keep him. The cells were damp and dirty, like any cell you would find in a smallish city which, by the way, was definitely not London. The machine must not only travel in time but also in space somehow.
He was thrown to the ground, messing his beautiful red coat. They had locked the door and exited, still roaring about witches and demons, by the time the ginger managed to stand and dust himself off. "Well that was rude. Not even a 'Oh, he cooperating so maybe he's a good demon'." He said, lurking over to a small cot made of hay scattered on the ground with a sack draped over it. He was surprised to find that it was occupied.
A ruggedly handsome man of about thirty slept under the sack. The stubble on his face showed that he must have been in here for at least a month or so. His clothes suggested that he wasn't poor, but he wasn't a noble either. His hygiene has also taken a turn downhill, as can be expected in a place like this.
The mysterious man chose this moment to leap out at him, taking him by surprise. Grell tried to swing his scythe upwards at the man before remembering that he had left it in the machine, giving the man the chance to knock him to the ground, pinning his arms down over his head.
The reapers superior strength would have been enough to utterly destroy the man had Grell not been completely dumfounded. He just lay there under the man as he regained his breath. The mans hair covered his face so that the only thing showing was his mouth. Grells legs had somehow gotten tangled in the mans during the struggle. Despite being in such a desolate state, the man somehow managed to smell sweet, like honeysuckles. The mans mouth hovered inches about his own, and for a moment Grell hoped for something forbidden to happen, but it didn't. What did happen still surprised him though. Instead of saying anything or attacking him again, the man smiled. Not the wicked smile of some madman, but the smile of someone who was glad to see the other.
Grell relaxed a bit and nervously smiled back. "Hello." he said, staring into his dark black hair where his eyes would be.
A/N: Sorry u guise bout the tardiness and shortness of this chapter. I was starting to feel a bit rushed. For the longest time I didn't know how to start this chapter so I would start it then erase it and start again.
I promise I have a plan for this, I think.
Let me know what you think of this chapter.
See you later, Chestnutghost.