Hey guys!

It's been a while. I've just had a massive break from writing, so to ease back into it, I decided to write this piece! I can confirm that it will be a three-shot, so stay tuned for more.

Oh, and to anyone who read 'His Butler, A Father's Touch' and is still wait for that supposedly 'controversial' story I was talking about, I've been working as hard as I can on it. It is quite a large story, and is very taxing on my writing ability, but I'm hoping to have it published at some point!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story!

HeartElyse

XXX

To Die, To End

"Sebastian, this is an order! Kill the Undertaker!"

The demon's amiable lips twisted into the most wicked of smirks, his snake-like irises smouldering a garish rouge against the London night. He flashed his ravenous gaze upon the boy standing only metres behind. The Earl's stance was heavily rooted as though he himself was about to partake in a battle to the death, his only uncovered eye glaring upon the silver-haired Grim Reaper with such acidic intent that had the boy been anything else but human, than they surely would have caused damage upon the manic God before them. How delicious, the demon internally acknowledged.

"Are you certain, my Lord?" Sebastian questioned, merely for his own amusement. "There will be no turning back."

"Yes," cackled the Undertaker from where he was situated within the depths of the alleyway, his mangled top-hat discarded upon the cobblestone ground, his deceitful eyes beaming fluorescent green from beneath his lustrous curtain of locks. "I won't get any good laughs if ya kill me, hehe. Well, if ya can, that is!"

Releasing yet another insufferable giggle, the Grim Reaper raised a clawed hand and from nothingness materialised his death scythe, a metallic instrument that embodied the shape of a human skeleton, but protruding from the skull that served to cap the lethal weapon was a hooked blade that held both the strength of an axe and the accuracy of a dagger in its vocabulary, and could cleave bone to pieces in one foul swoop.

This display of finery did not faze the demon's master in the least however, but served to only agitate the child further, much to butler's unholy delight.

Turning his livid face upon Sebastian, the child promptly roared, "Are you going to make me repeat my order, Sebastian?! I told you to kill him!"

Smoothing his immaculately-white gloved hand over the breast pocket of his trench coat - already anticipating the blood that would ruin it shortly - Sebastian dipped his head low in obligation.

"As you wish, my Lord."

In an instant, the illusion of human restraint was unshed and tossed away as Sebastian invited his animalistic impulses to take complete and utter control of his entire system. With ivory fangs gleaming within the moonlight, Sebastian propelled himself high from the earth, and drifting beyond the realms of gravity, he lunged forward with arms outstretched like a sleek black feline soaring towards its prey, Undertaker consuming his sights, his figure moving at such a pace that it would be impossible for the human eye to fathom…

And yet, when he was certain that he was very much upon the mouse that he had been given the responsibility - and the pleasure - to hunt, his eager fingers had grasped nothing more but weightless air. Confusion plagued him for but a moment, for he did not need to wait a moment more to hear a trill of laughter by his left side, and flicking his eyes in that direction, he found his mouse not even a step away, its leering face serving to only tease him.

With a growl of frustration catching within the demon's throat, Sebastian once again launched himself forward, this time angling his body towards the left. And yet, as his fist made to exhibit the first blow, it once again landed upon nothing. An unexpected slice upon his right flank caused the demon to flinch, aware that his first wound was the consequence of his inability to remain in toe with the God, but as a new peal of laughter greeted him upon his right, Sebastian could not stifle a grin, rather humoured by the new game he was playing with the Reaper.

Like a dance, the two unearthly beings stepped around each other within their ballroom of motionless air, with Sebastian performing an advanced array of acrobatics to and fro, and in every possible direction imaginable. But alas, he was only rewarded with far greater wounds in turn. He was not at all surprised. The Grim Reaper was a seasoned player after all, and in essence, a stronger being in many bounds.

He did not intend to lose however. His master had ordered it after all.

For what seemed like the infinite time, Sebastian's hands had closed on nothing and for several seconds, he remained poised, listening with earnest, but hearing zilch for his efforts. He sniffed the air for the God's deathly scent, but any trace of it had been completely vanquished from the scene, which the demon found incredibly odd. Still, as minutes raced by, Sebastian had almost convinced himself that the Undertaker had fled from the scene entirely.

Yet, as a grating tone slithered into his ears from behind, he knew he had been most damnably fooled.

"Behind you, butler!"

And before he had the opportunity to turn, a hooked blade exploded out through his abdomen, hacking his insides completely in two. And just like that, all the souls that had generated the force of his immortality spilled out from him, free from the hell that he had condemned them to, and with a scream that could shatter glass, gravity unleashed itself upon his suddenly burdensome vessel, and like a bird that's wings had abruptly been ripped off, the demon tumbled out of the sky.

Greeting the cobblestone path with the most dreadful of cracks, Sebastian hardly considered the alarmed cry of his master, but instead analysed the pain he was feeling, most intrigued by how painful it all truly was. It was an agony that must surely only come with death; the immense, hollow ache of being truly empty. This was a devil's death, so legend says. How curious indeed.

Sebastian infatuated his eyes with what was going to be his own prey, the mere child kneeling at the demon's side, his mask of composure broken by naked panic. The demon was full-heartedly disappointed that he would never get to try even a morsel of the boy's soul, but he was relieved that it so happened to be the last soul he ever served.

And as the world began to lose its meaning, the demon internally chuckled.

He'd been beaten by the life of a mere soul…