The Grim Reaper, Literally. Chapter One.

Death walked serenely across the stormy cliffs as her second world's lifespan came to an end.

Her book of souls had one left. The pocket watch clipped on the side of her cloak slowly clicked down.

Death let her book fade from her grasp.

Sankan L. Termur. The last living soul upon this expiring planets time has come.

Her skulls jaw rubbed idly in thought as she glided across the uneven and slippery terrain.

'Tick, tok'

The soul was near. Her sockets glowed brighter in purple as her consciousness focused on it.

Her scythe solidified out of the purple smoke smoldering from her cloak.

In one swift arc Death created a portal.

She made for it, no haste in her float. As she exsited the portal she came upon a rather sad sight.

A grayed old man. He had his own cloak on. A sword of pure silver buried through his leg.

Deaths bones made a series of noises.

This job gets old.

Her scythe smoldered as the mans soul started to wisp from his eyes.

Before she Reaped this man. She decided to commit his mortal form to her ever long memory.

Eyes of pure gold stared at her in understanding of their fate. War torn white armor adorned his frankly massive grimy frame as perception dripped down his shaven face.

Rest well, long live the fighting soul.

Death intoned.

Her scythe pierced the 3 inch thick plate protecting the mans two hearts. His body jerked as if stuck by lightning.

Her purple lined obsidian scythe sucked the soul from the body as it created a fast track path to the final destination.

Judgment.

With that the mans body grew grey. As did all of his long living species.

With his Reaping. The world slowly ended its infinite turning.

So did the rain. One final blanket of toxic rain slapped against Death.

Death looked upon the world, a disappointed glow in her sockets.

War, what a blight.

If Death would put it mildly. Her job was something only she could do.

Even if she hated how it was done. Most souls had an innate want to live. And if their mortal form was operable enough they'd run.

Forcing her hand.

She was glad this one choose his fate.

Finally as the world ended its final cycle due to the mans own races fighting. The Overseer recalled her.

So she answered.

"Death, welcome. Tea?"

She would frown if she could.

"What do you need of me bastard?"

The Overseer made a so-so gesture. Which made Death increase the grip upon Harvest.

"How old are you Death? My dear" He asked like he already didn't know.

"Couple billion?" Death ventures.

The Overseer shook his glowing head.

"Someone made a mistake, you have a new assignment" This piqued Deaths attention.

"New?" Her jaw clacked together oddly.

"The Reaper of Sector 3-1 of the Brothers of Light and Dark has gone Rouge. The balance of one world is in shambles. The cycle has been broken."

Fury burned in her sockets.

"The cycle was broken?" Her power rumbled.

"Yes, as my second I bestow upon you. Remove that Reaper. Find those knock off God's. Send them to JUDGMENT. I shall take it from there."

Death took the order in stride. A Reaper failing to do their duties. Was one thing.

Having the cycle break. Now, that was another.

Which means more or one beings have passed the mortal realm and have cheated Death.

Heresy.

Death, spun Harvest ripping a portal through the Overseers domain.

"Send me there bastard." The Overseer sent a wave of pure energy upon Death. One that expressed the upmost of her personally disliked aspects of her Leader.

Feelings of absolute Tom-fuckery.

She didn't like what he had planned for her.

With a whoosh Death was sucked into a portal that slowly grew a deep red as it merged with her power.

Death for the first time in her infinite life lost contact with the waking world.

Only to wake up skull down in a puddle of mud.

Death felt her jaw clinch, but felt many other things she wasn't used to moving in tandem to make her chomper articulate.

Death shot to her knees when her watch started its countdown for the new world.

Her book 'poofed' into her waiting bone-

Her jaw dropped. Fleshy hands.

Her sockets started hurting but just before it became unbearable her skull twitched.

And suddenly her sockets didn't feel uncomfortable.

The puddle she was kneeling upon stopped rippling.

Why must my bones get busted all the time?

Death mused.

She had a face again.

Purple eyes which used to be glowing balls of light searched her new reflection.

Why where her robes so large?

Why was everything so large?

Her hood hung so low that she could barely make out rough black hair dumping down her fleshy head.

Death stood. Irritation blanketing her usually calm state of mind. Was that trash she was marinating in that puddle with?

My bones have to get busted. Fucken bastard did this on purpose!

Her body took a deep breath of foul smelling smog.

She opened her book of souls which-was eighth or so times smaller.

Her glowing eyes looked upon all the souls dedicated to her care.

A select total of ten or so where marked under the Overseers personal protection.

Souls destined for various deitial Jobs.

Her eyes quickly skimmed them.

R. Rose

W. Schnee

Y. Xiao Long

B. Belladonna

Death looked upon the inhabitant given name of this world.

Remnant.

Death then took in her surroundings.

Dingy alleyway alright.

She dismissed the book of souls in a wave of violet magic.

Death stood water dripping down her absolutely numb mortal legs.

Her pointed ears pinpointed the unmistakable March of foot traffic outside of the alley.

Death decided to ask a local soul the location she was in.

The first step she took tripped her up as she planted a bare foot on the inner fabric of her cloak which sent the Reaper stumbling forward with a eloquent.

"Bethink heathenous rag!"

Death growled and out of habit bit her jaw down in the only way to express her scathing anger for her uncooperative clothing.

Only to recoil with a yowl of pain as her two heathenously sharp incisors cut her lip.

Death cupped her mouth as she tasted something completely forgin to herself.

"Hey! Someone down there?" A rumbling male voice asked.

Foot steps much larger than the Reaper was normalized to started splashing down the puddles.

"Are you alright? I smell blood."

Death opened her eyes to look up.

Her purple orbs landed upon a absolutely massive form of a man with curling horns of pure obsidian pushing out from his copper colored mullet.

One scar attuned on his left brow stood proudly.

A massive battle axe that rivaled Harvest in size hung from his back.

His eyes of molten Gold looked down his sun tanned nose at Death whose hands still cupped her mouth.

"M'fine. Good sir." Death mumbled. Her voice was coarse. As if someone rubbed a gritty stone against freshly polished glass.

Her accent was thick with her old Tovoken way of speaking. The name of the race from the old world.

"What was that?" The horned man kneeled. His sleeveless tan vest showing his treetrunk thick arms.

Deaths newly mortal form started folding in on itself in a way she never would've expected.

The man took notice. "H-Hey honey, I'm Bronze. Vacuo Huntsman." A meaty thumb prodded his chest.

"Whats your name honey, I ain't here to hurtcha."

Death stared at him incredulously.

Her lack of verbal response sent the man into more communicative measures.

"I know Faunus are scarey. But I'm not here to harm you, Where's your parents? Why are you alone?"

Bronzes voice was happy. In an upbeat tone meant to soothe a child.

Death was mostly unimpressed. But once again lacked a verbal response as she latched unto the new word.

But before she could dwell more.

"Sweety. Where are you bleeding?" The man sounded almost agitated with what her reply could be.

Death removed her hands deciding it would be easier to show Bronze than tell him with her dysfunctional voice.

"Thank the brothers…" Bronze sighed.

"Where am I?" Death asked. Blood dripping down her lip.

"Not a human?" Bronze whispered to himself.

Death just watched as the man pulled out a small thing. Roughly five inches long.

And pulled it apart. Deaths ancient mindset was flabbergasted at what she witnessed.

"We're in Zaun, Vacuo." Bronze shrugged.

Death nodded like she knew where that was.

"Where's your parents?" The shirtless man asked as he dropped to his ass.

"Don't have them?" Death answered truthfully.

The man closed his eyes and sighed. A wheeze of air left his lungs.

"Is that why your dressed in a cloak and have mud all over yourself?"

Death didn't answer him.

Bronze shifted. Before lifted a meaty hand slowly and in the most obvious of ways to her head.

Death recoiled one of her much smaller hands grabbing his wrist as she stood. The size of her cloak worked against her as her shoeless feet stepped on it again causing her to fall back first into the mud.

Her hood fell anyway much to her dismay. As she hasn't removed it for over half her lifetime.

Death let a hiss escape her new vocal cords.

Showing the man her teeth in more detail.

Bronze sighed to himself before muttering. "Afraid of a fellow faunus and startled into flight just by sight of my hand near her head"

Bronze retracted his hand to pinch the bridge of his Slightly crooked nose as Death laid in the mud a small scowl on her face.

"Whad her folks do to her." Bronze opened his eyes again.

"Hey, what kind of faunus are ya? I'mma Markhor" Bronze asked.

"I-don't know?" Death questioned.

Bronze scratched the side of his head. "Shite. Kids love talking about their traits"

Bronze stayed silent as he analyzed Deaths form.

"You look like some type of fruit bat." Bronze shuffled. "You guys usually have the whole sharp as sin incisors and pointy ears" he explained slowly. Unsure of himself.

Death took note of the information.

Death sat some more. She knew nothing about this world unfortunately. Had no ground to stand upon either. Her pride as a Reaper can wait.

"I don't have anywhere to stay sir" Death ventures.

"Ain't that the truth, what's your name?" Bronze shook his head. Presumably at the fact Death most likely looked like a homeless child.

Going off the fact Bronze kept talking to her as she where a child.

One that could rend this world asunder if she so wished, while in search of why the cycle has broken.

"Grim." Death answered.

"Grimm!?" Bronze bellowed. "When I get my hands on those two-" he simmered his anger in a hurry.

"I-hmm. Shit" Bronze growled to himself.

"I need to take her off the streets." He battled in thoughts out loud.

Death waited for him to finish.

"Would you like to get off the streets?" Death nodded vigorously.

"I don't have much Grim. So you'll need to help earn your keep" Bronze shrugged in a what can you do? Way.

He stood and scooped Death up with one arm. Causing the Reaper in a child's skin to dig her claws into his arm reflexively.

"Ow! Holy- Those little things went through my Aura like it ain't even there!" Bronze seemed in aw at what the little Reaper did.

Death breathed through her nose.

Of course it went through your soul shield. A suprisingly tuff one at that, but I'm still a Reaper.

"Ha! Good thing I leave my Aura on a low-active state. Would suck to get a tiny kitty scratch"

Death blinked.

His soul wasn't shielding him at its fullest?

Death didn't squirm as she was carried for a few miles. The man made one stop to get clothing that fit Deaths smaller form. A pair of forest green shorts and a slightly stained shirt 3 sizes to big.

For a total of 3 lien.

However much that was in this worlds economy.

Deaths and Bronzes next stop was a tavern looking building.

The name of this shamble of a drinking establishment was. "Dustdevils"

The room was sparsely lit by old lanterns, the smell of alcohol and the undertone of bar food.

From the sound of light snoring through the floor boards and her own soul detection magic she decided this place doubled as an inn.

One of the patrons just died it seemed.

How did she know?

Her watch said so. With a obnoxious chime and a flash of purple essence.

Deaths face rose in a wry smile. Before she disappeared from Bronzes arm.

Causing a scream of her name and a chitter from the people around him. As they to saw her poof from the mans arms.

Death appeared in a cloud of purple energy above the directly above the dead person.

The man had his throat slit.

"Hahha WHAT FUN!" A deranged man cackled as he lunged towards Death as her organic eyes snapped to him.

Death ducked the swing of a double bladed wrist gauntlet.

"MY QUEEN SAID NO WITNESSES!" Death jumped off the bed as the man tried to uppercut her.

Her teeth grit as she committed this mortal to her memory.

Scorpion tail. Yellow eyes. Long braided black hair. Covered in scars of various sizes.

Death dodged another strike as the scorpion man growled at her like a feral dog.

Death summoned the handle of Harvest and let her scythe's hilt poke the scared man rather hardly in the sternum as she weaved under another swipe.

Summoning her book of souls, she flipped it open and slotted in her description.

She found him within seconds as she summoned her scythes blade in front of her to block.. bullets?

Huh.

Death mused slightly as she faced a shoulder to her scythe as she read her book.

Tyrian Callows age: 38 expected time remaining 13 years. 50 days.

Death than watched as his due date rapidly declined as she made her decision.

5 minutes. Her book read.

She locked eyes with his deranged yellow. Hers glowed a vibrant purple. Before she removed her scythe from the portal.

"As grand Soul Reaper of the Overseers personal order, I hence forth deliver you for judgment."

Deaths tone was course as all reapers.

The man just cackled at her.

"And they say I'm crazy!" He giggled.

Death said no more as she sailed at him. Scythe spinning, a purple trail in its wake.

Tyrians soul shield took a small amount of blows before her scythe started siphoning his soul.

The man recoiled from her blade. A tiny almost unnoticed whimper leaving his mouth.

Death gave him no room to breathe. For his lasp in focus allowed her to kick the short sword from the side of the bed.

Leaving it on a direct course to something vital.

The dead huntsmans weapon sunk hilt deep through the scorpion man's side.

One lung was destroyed. Along with the spinal cord completely severed.

Tyrain dropped like a sack of potatoes..

crumbling in on himself.

Death took a breath as the rest of his tainted soul was transported to judgement.

The other soul was sucked up along with the taint.

Death let her scythe and book leave her grasp. Before the void took her fleshy hands.

She heard rapid foot steps, pounding with speed to her location. Death skipped over to Tyrain and the growing puddle of blood.

Death needed to create a cover for herself. Using one hand she unlocked her soul in the way this world allowed. Before she dropped to her knees in the blood.

She put her hands in it before flicking some on her right cheek.

Grabbing the handle of the sword she bloodied it as well as twisting it in the wound to make it look as if the strike was poor.

Just as the door was removed from its hinges.

"GRIM!" Bronzes muscled form stomped to her side.

"What happened?! Who is this?" Bronze scooped her up. Deaths hand was still gripping the sword so as she was pulled away the blade dislodged itself and landed on her oddly. Causing her new soul shield to react.

Bronze paused. "You unlocked your semblance?" Death shrugged.

Bronze sighed. "I dunno what happened" Death announced.

"I just appeared on top of that guy's body and got attacked" pointing at each body respectively. Death tried to add a tremor to her voice.

Bronze fell for Deaths lack luster attempt to cover her 'normal child guse'

The large Huntsman pulled out his scroll and begun to search the bounty board.

"Cmon, cmon. He looks familiar" in his frustration he gave Tyrains corpse a disrespectful kick.

Death watched the body convulse, seems she removed the soul a bit violently.

"Ha!. Found em! He's a serial killer. Good job Grim!" Bronze cheered.

Death found it odd the man wasn't being extra careful to not spook her. As she looked like a child and just killed a man. Seen two corpses and has blood on her face and hands.

She would be the definition of traumatized if she were mortal.

Death willed the man to hurry up, while slowly digging in his mind for the history of this world.

She which she was doing non invasively. Her soul was kindly interacting with his.

Soon while her mind was else where Bronze and herself found themselves in a clean room.

By now Death had all the information she needed so, as to not leave Bronze's soul without nothing. She gave his mortal form seven years of life upon his current twenty-four.

With that, Death teleported to the nearest soul that should get Reaped.

Startling Bronze again.

Death appeared in another sandy climate, this time a cave. Where she found a white cloaked woman holding a gash in her side.

Presumably to staunch the bleeding.

Deaths appearance didn't even register in the woman's silver eyes.

Pulling out her book of souls Death knelt in front of the woman, to more directly appraise if it was her time.

The book said so. But the woman's time was fluctuating.

One years to three, down to fifteen minutes than up to ten years.

Death didn't know what to make of it.

Why was the book contradicting itself?

Death reached out with a small hand and pulled the woman's hands away from the bleeding cut, only to find the blood a dark purple.

Venom.

Death found herself being struck in the side of the head. Her small form ate the unexpected kick and she found herself smashing into the stalactite to her right.

Ow.

Death opened an eye to find the woman's sparkling silver locked onto her form.

"Oh my, I just kicked a kid.." the woman wheezed.

Death stood. Seeing how the Venom looks oddly the same as a certain man she just ended.

"Who did this?" Death scratched out.

Taking a peak at her book she read the woman's name.

Summer Rose. Mother of Ruby Rose.

THREE MINUTES. The book read.

Summer coughed purple blood. "Tyrian Callows. Servant to Salem. "

"Oops" she finished. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, Ozpin said."

Death figured Summer knew she was going to die, and like most mortals, said whatever they wanted.

Death had names to research, Ozpin and Salem.

"Who are you?" Summer asked. Her voice barely audible.

"Death, I've come to fix the balance of this world" Death answered.

The 2nd Reaper saw no need for lies. In the face of a soul ready for the after life.

"Death taking the form of a kid no older than my little Ruby.." Summer's eyes glazed over again. But her chest still rose. Slowly and weakly.

1 minute.

Death frowned as she watched Summer drift off into a daydream.

"Protect R-" Summer was staring at nothing in particular with her eyes half lidded.

Death brought forth her scythe. Her eyes glowing brighter.

"Uby.." Summers' last words were her daughter's name.

Death had a feeling weather she liked it or not.. she'd be hanging around Ruby.

So, Summers final request will be fulfilled.

"Rest easy pure soul.." Death tapped the tip of her scythe on Summers head. Letting her soul return to an easy resting state.

Death did one last thing and took a peak amongst all Summers' memories.

Ruby was the spitting image of Summer. The next one she saw was of a Blonde child with lilac eyes.

Then a man holding a massive sword his red eyes full of mischief, a small blush on his cheekbones.

Summers' own feelings attached to this memory was of pure fondness.

Ruby, Yang and Qrow were her top favorite people. Followed closely by a Tai.

With that Death gave Summers mortal vessel one last glance, raising a hand Death closed the bodies eyes and rested a kiss on the crown of her dual colored hair.

"Dear pure soul. Those you love will be protected. As they should"

Yang and Ruby were on the divinity list.

Death's mission became more clear.

Standing up, Death looked around the cave. Finding one shattered blade. The barrel of some firearm laying in the wreckage.

It was mounted to the hilt in a way that it looked like it was the spine of the saber-like weapon.

Seems like everyone Deaths come across is armed in some way. Just like the last world she was on.

Death turned to walk out of the cave. Her cloak dragging on the sandy ground.

Ding, DingDingDingDing!

The seven hells?.

Death pinch the bridge of her nose. Why so many souls at once?

Spinning Harvest in one motion while opening a portal Death ran into it with haste.

On the other end.. Death's bare foot crunched on hot coals of a burning board. Her toes narrowly missed nails.

Death grit her teeth and surged forward into the chaos of the burning buildings and injured mortals.

Ding!

Deaths eyes started to lightly glow when she sighted abominations

Black furred beasts of all sizes tore apart buildings, people and pets alike.

Soulless abominations.

Her scythe removed the first beast from the waking world. Death lashed out with a fist anger at these unjust monsters.

A head disappeared when her small knuckles met the boney looking protective armor on one's head.

Bringing Harvest to bare with one hand she bludgeoned the one who had its face buried in the remains of a woman.

Killing it instantly.

A shadow fell over her and the bloodied grass.

Death's purple orbs locked onto a large flying abomination.

Tapping the woman's corpse to free her soul.

Rest, gentle caregiver.

Death's scythe started misting purple as her arms fed more power into it. Adjusting her grip she looked upon the flying creature.

"Be gone" Death rasped. Flipping her scythe in a way so she could grip the pommel.

Harvest thrummed, and Death threw.

Thump!

Watching her faithful weapon careen up to the flying monstrosity. Death kneeled and closed the woman's dull magenta eyes.

Death never stopped watching Harvest. Even as it cut through the massive opponent.

Then it disappeared in purple mist as the Bird fell. Misting it's own path of darkness into the forest.

Harvest appeared in Death's waiting grip.

Death resumed her slaughter of this taint.

Death slid to a stop in front of the last Taint in the area.

The small black furred mutt shivered in fear.

Death gripped it by its mask, right between its glowing sockets of red.

Picking it up off the ground with strength. Death asked a single question: "Where's your master?"

The taint actually whimpered.

Death squeezed its mask in warning.

"Hey kid, you've beaten it" a voice slurred.

Death blinked. As a very familiar man dressed in a suit walked up. Dark bags under his eyes.

The man stumbled forward. Tears formed in his eyes as he asked a drunken question.

The mortal was staring at Death, but in a way that wasn't coherent.

"Summer needs me to help her? Why'd she leave on her own.." Shaking his head. Death watched as the beast snarled in the man's direction.

Death concluded this mortal wasn't all quite "there" in the head at the moment.

In her long life, Death found herself in another recurring 1st. She had no clue how to handle this situation.

In her lapse of judgment the beast swiped at her.

The claw actually broke her soul barrier. Her lack of attention was probably why.

Around mid strike it broke the skin on her cheek, causing Death to scream out.

That snapped the man from wherever his mind went.

He surged forward and bisected the Grimm in half, while pulling Death aside.

Qrow kicked the falling top half away.

"Are y-you alright?" Qrow knelt while he held a shaking hand up to Death's three cuts.

"I'm fine," she muttered.

Qrow sighed, "What are you?" Death peered at Harvest and her arms which were glowing.

Death didn't answer.

Instead she gripped the mortal's arm. That hand from that arm was holding onto her shoulder.

"A cleaning service" Death answered with a small bit of sarcasm leaking into her voice.

Pulling his hand from her shoulder with strength that surprised the seasoned Huntsman, Drunk or not.

Harm being brought to a child made him real lucid and sober within seconds.

Well, something that looked like a child.

Death turned on her heel, briefly getting caught on her robes.

She cursed quietly in a different language.

Death spun Harvest as Qrow watched.

Next, the Grim Reaper swept the blade above the ground. Like she was harvesting crops.

Except it was the souls of the many dead.

A wave of violet energy swirled around her. Around knee height before it set out in a sphere.

Qrow was amazed. As the energy rushed towards him he raised Harbinger in defense of himself but found himself unneeded of it.

This entity was certainly not human or faunus for that matter.

Ozpin needed to know about this immediately, he concluded. Qrow watched as orbs of light left many of the victims of the Grim attack when the wave passed them.

All of the orbs were heading with haste to the girls scythe.

Backing away quickly. Qrow fumbled with his scroll and took a picture of her as she was turned away.

He needed to find Summer. Morphing into a Crow. He flapped his wings and with a loud piercing caw!

Qrow flew away.

Summer was still alive, she had to be.

—-

Death eyed the odd man as he turned into an avian creature and disappeared amongst the trees.

Well, to the mission.