1395 A.D

The unearthly still water reflected the moonlight, causing the scene to look like a beautiful picture from a book. The leaves were gently falling from their trees, the colors vibrant against the blackness that seemed to stand out in the darkness. A soft breeze carried around the sounds of a village far to the west, but quickly ended as the rustling of the dead leaves crowded the small sounds out. A gray cloud was wrapped around the moon, quickly shaping and reforming in the blistering winds of the sky above. The night seemed to be perfect to look at. Mysterious and dark, it seemed to be from out of a vampire novel.

Until there was sobbing. It wasn't what a person would expect to hear on a night as clear as this. It wasn't any sort of sobbing, as there was several things that could define tears. There were the common tears of sadness, and happiness. There were some of relief, some of terror, and then there were some of revenge. Hopelessness, death, excitement, there were all sorts of such things that could cause such sort of tears.

But these tears were caused of fright. In this sort of setting, it could have been something that the darkness held unseen from the eyes of others. It could be from old pain that haunted the person. However, these tears were not the cause of such either things.

Unseen to anybody who had happened to pass by in the area, was a figure at the edge of the pond. A ripped blue dress covered her body, though it didn't need to cover her body anymore. Thick green fur did that job. The moonlight wasn't the only thing reflective on the pond as it was deathly still. The humanoid bunny like figure had her hands up to her face, her ice blue eyes peering into her reflection.

She was afraid. Of herself. Of what she had become, and what was to come next. All the while, the moon whispered to her, "Lola Thorn."

2014 A.D. Present day

The smell of death was of something that was indescribable. Sometimes it was sweet, and sometimes it felt like somebody had stuffed hot sauce up my nose. It mainly just depended on who had died. If they caused many sins, I didn't really touch them because they smelled the worse. If they had spent their life in harmony and kept their moral values, I would usually interfere in where they would end up. It was nice living in a graveyard, mainly because spirits never came in here. Only one really did, and that was his job.

Grimm Reaper was in charge of death, and sent the dead spirits of humans their merry way out of this life. He was the only one who I talked to, and I would only see him if somebody died. The cemetery that I lived in was old, almost as old as I was, and people rarely were ever buried here. Only the older people really were here. Some tradition that I wasn't aware of.

I, however, didn't expect to wake up on a Saturday morning to the scent of cinnamon rolls. It had been a few years, so I was distorted at first. My head snapping up, making my balance off kilter as I fell off a high branch onto a bunch of lower ones. My gloved hands didn't really make any difference as I scrambled to grip some type of wood as I fell out of my bed. I managed to fall into a pile of snow, but not without a few bruises from evil tree.

"I will have my revenge." I muttered towards the old weeping willow, as I stumbled onto my booted feet. It was painful the first few decades, but I finally gotten used to wearing shoes at all times now. "I will carve my name into you- and I won't stop until you are crying." I proudly talked to my tree. Not really caring if anybody saw me- not that anybody really could see me. A lesson that I learned a long time ago.

I heard the sweet soft tears of a child reach my ears, a sound that not only that I hated, but also wanted to comfort. I was scared of children, not a fun thing when they are everywhere. But I hated to hear tears. It was an odd sound I don't think that I could quite correctly explain exactly what it sounded. It really just depended on the type of tears. Happiness sounded like something fuzzy clogging my ears, while sadness sounded like a quiet foghorn that got louder as it grew. The better emotions sounded like the sweet aching feeling that you get at the back of your jaw. The worse emotions felt like somebody was scraping their cats across black boards.

When I finally approached the area of the funeral, I noticed that it was only a few people who were really there. A mother, and a child. Besides the priest who was saying a sermon as the coffin was lowered into the grave, it was only those two.

The small little girl was softly crying while her mother held onto her hand, her face stony and gray. Some how, I could feel that the girl had just lost not only her father, but her best friend. Usually, it was the other way around. The mother was the bad one this time though.

"Daddy." She hiccuped, her sleeves wet from a mix of tears and snot. A pang of a hollow horn started to blow like a ship lost from its moor. The mother jerked her hand, as she silenced the little girl. This was just so sad.

I passed the three figures, as I looked down at the coffin. This man had been loved dearly by his daughter, to only leave her in her tender years. Not enough time to fully establish long lasting memories. My long black coat trailing behind me as a breeze swung by my haunted cemetery. I knelt down at placed my hand onto the coffin lid, and pulled out the clear soul of the man. He was a thin man who had a blading head.

"W-where am I?" He asked me with alarm written on his face.

"Your gravesite." I bluntly said, not wanting to keep this going on forever. "You're dead."

The man seemed to look past me now to see the three figures. "I don't remember dying. I came home after a long day of work and ate some of my wifes home made soup. I usually want to spend more time with Clara, because-"

"I know. Your wife doesn't love her as you do." I said softly, letting my feminine side showing.

"I worry about Clara. Please help her as I continue on in my existence." He begged me, his eyes full of a mercy that I haven't seen.

My heart softened, and I placed my gloved hand where his shoulder should have been. "I promise that I will help her with her mother." I promised, a thing that I knew wouldn't last long. Something told me that Clara would be taken away from her mother soon. A gut feeling, you could say.

"Thank you." He said, and I sent him on his way. It wasn't very dramatic, but I found that I could easily do this without any flashy things that Grimm loved to do.

Show off.

I watched the girl for a little bit more, watching the funeral proceed. I wondered why it was happening in this graveyard.

A shrill whistle pierced my ears, and I looked up to see the mother finally placing a tissue to her face. Relief. Why was she- oh. I get it now.

The man shouldn't have eaten that soup, or he would have been alive. And by the looks of it, the priest had been in on it as well. No wonder why they were putting him in a old cemetary. That if anybody saw this, nobody would think twice of it. Might as well end this promise I've made.

I walked in front of the girl, and knelt down next to her. I flinched as I placed a paw- I mean hand- on her shoulder. She jumped, and instantly I knew that she could see me. I trait I had. I could touch them, and if they believed something touched me, it was enough to let the spell be unraveled. So long as I was touching them.

"Death?" She whispered, and I slowly nodded. I lifted up a finger to my face in a warning to silence. She didn't know who I really was, and that was fine. I sure hope that Grimm wasn't going to know about this.

"Your daddy wants you to do something." I said, my voice gravily. "He want's you to be happy. And he knows of a way to do this." Clara nodded enthusiastically. "You must do this to the exact letter. You can do this, can you?" Clara opened her mouth, but it snapped shut as she remembered to be quiet.

"First, when your mother goes out to do something, you must go to your closest nice neighbor. Do you have a nice neighbor?"

"Mrs. Stahli." She whispered to confirm me. She then slapped her mouth shut with her hand.

"Alright. You go down to her house when she is home. Tell her to please call the police. You know? 9-1-1?" Clara nodded. "You have to tell her that in my exact words 'Mommy killed Daddy in his soup.' Can you do that?" Another confirmation. "Then, these nice men will come and ask you how you know. Tell them you saw her put something in his soup. No matter what these men say, you must tell them that 'Mommy killed Daddy.'"

Clara nodded, and then I gave her a smile that nobody could see. "Daddy loves you very much. You must remember him always."

And I let go of her shoulder. She looked around wildly for me, and then burst into tears. "I-I won't forget Daddy!" She bawled.

"Shut up!" Her mother swatted her head, and then returned to the fake funeral.

I walked over to my tree and watched the trio carefully. Well.. not really. I was checking to see if any clothing had slipped to show what was underneath.

"That went smoothly. I wondered how you were going to fulfill that promise." A voice to my side broke my mental fantasy. I jumped, and looked to see Grimm standing over me, a long cloak on his shoulders while a scythe in his hand.

Classic. He should really change it up.

"Grimm." I acknowledged him, nodding to him while climbing up to my feet. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I do believe a few decades." He nodded, his hood slipping down to show a 18 year old male boy with chubby cheeks. I now understood the hood. He wasn't that bad looking either. He should definitely go out and get some sun. You could almost see the Irish origin with his skin that pale.

He kept the hood down while we spoke about some different things. He was usually really busy, and it kept on nagging me while he was talking to me. He also kept on annoying by asking me over and over about what I looked like. He was curious, but I wished that he wasn't Death so that I could kill him.

"So why aren't you at work. Usually you have enough time to say hi and go." I finally asked him, a sigh in my voice.

"Oh, usually I get a few hours of freedom to pack before going on the vacation." Grimm told me, acting like his age for once.

"Vacation." I had thought maybe that somehow everybody was now immortal because Death was not doing his job. Oh well. "You go on vacation." I scoffed.

"Hey, it's not like I have a choice." Grimm defensively told me. "You don't either!"

"What." I didn't ask a question. It was a statement.

"Don't tell me, you have been skipping out on us?" Grimm gasped, being a drama queen. He held up his hands like I had done some horrible deed, and he was shielding his eyes from looking at me.

"I wouldn't know." My face stony as I told him, but he couldn't see it with the scarf hiding my face.

"Then maybe we would be able find out what is underneath that clothing. I haven't seen even a millimeter of your skin, maybe you are decaying like a zombie."

"A what?" I didn't get what he told me. What was a zombie?

"You haven't heard that word? It's when the dead people rise from the grave and eat brains and- Alright. I see I am boring you." Grimm said, sighing. "You really should get out of the cemetery every once in a while. You'd be surprised to see the world that it is right now."

"I am fine here. Besides, I don't need to run around like you other spirits out there. All I have to do is let people cry." I scoffed, leaning against my tree. The evil tree that I needed to get my revenge with.

"It's final." Grimm announced. "You are coming with me to the vacation cruise. No excuses, and besides, I don't think Manny would like you skipping out on us, Lola."

"Don't you dare- and he's gone." Grimm flickered out of my vision, and I could only blink. He didn't even tell me when it was, or what to be prepared for. Whatever, I wasn't going. My graveyard was perfect for me, and I loved it.

A stick fell on my head, and I growled up at the tree, wincing as the movement pulled against my long ears. It hurt, but I managed.

So maybe my graveyard was getting tired of me, but I seriously doubt that Grimm was really going to stick to his promise.

So I have recived many people who wanted more of this story. Well... 11 chapter into this, I stopped. It was a romance, but I couldn't write it at the type of skill that I had. So I deleted it, and so I am going to rewrite this to a plot line that I will finally be able to finish. Thanks for the wait, almost an entire year... whoo. Well. I am also a little depressed because the Musical that I was in just ended tonight. The final showing... and I loved it so much. I am sad that it's gone, but I am glad that I am getting my life back. So that means that I am able to write more. If you had just recently reread this, then you can see the incredable difference of this chapter to the orginal. If you want the orginal, I am more than happy to send it to you if you want. I have no qualms if you wish to read that, but its - and trust me here- bad. I was just writing, so I have grown so much in a year!

I love all of you, because you waited. I am sorry if you were just so excited to see another chapter. I am rewriting this into something that I can finally go into with depth.

Please review and tell me about this! Thanks. :)