Chapter Text
(READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING THE WORK PLS)
In a normal day of April 3rd, a woman with white ragged robes walked along the crowd in the small town of Clotho.
The woman had messy and short, white hair, reaching above her shoulders. Her skin was deadly pale, as if she lacked blood.
The woman wore a Victorian dress. Her burgundy colored dress reached to her heel boots with tiers of ruffles and pagoda style sleeves. Women like her wore this type of beautiful dress around the town of Clotho and the castle of Atropos. She had red evening gloves on her hands.
This woman had a strange revealing mark on her right face, her right eye was replaced with her ethmoid bone, revealing a small patch of her skin as her skull.
She had a cross scar on her cheek, and her right eye was placed under her left eye. But the strange thing about this woman is that no one can see her.
Only the undead, and clairvoyants can see her.
Though, in this town of Clotho, everyone lived happily.
No, everyone in Clotho, Lachesis, and the Kingdom of Atropos were happy.
Except, this woman has been getting rid of people’s lives. In such a good way.
This woman was Juliette. And she is no ordinary woman, but the grim reaper of the country of Fatum.
Fatum has three territories. Clotho, the town of the poor. Lachesis, the city of the wealthy. And Atropos, the Kingdom where they ruled Fatum, filled with nobles, you see.
The woman, Juliette, clicked her tongue, walking on the roads of Clotho, then touched an old beggar that passed beside her.
The old beggar froze, clutching on her chest, and collapsed.
The crowd screamed.
A group of ladies rushed to her, and tried calling for help.
Though, this old beggar was very old. Her skin was wrinkled, and her hair was white and thin, oily. This old beggar was on the brink of death.
Death looked behind, and looked back to where she was going.
Towards the exit of Clotho, the town’s gate.
Juliette had a mission. A peaceful mission.
To sum it up, Juliette had a call in her ear a day ago.
This angelic voice in her ear told her a few words during her usual duties.
“It would be nice to see you guard over a doctor.
Her prayers had informed me to watch over her, in order to support her disorder.
If you would like, you must and will guard her over, Juliette.”
Juliette picked it up.
But her agreement was optional. And she was currently walking to Lachesis, however, her trip to Lachesis was very far away.
Juliette swallowed, and stomped on her foot.
And she was instantly sent to Lachesis. In the middle of the modern roads.
Unlike the town of Clotho, Lachesis was a city of riches, and business.
And that is where her ward is currently at.
The ward worked in a hospital, and Juliette needed to see her.
And she heard the current conversation of the ward with her friend.
Juliette walked inside of the hospital her ward was working at, and approached the counter where her ward is currently standing at.
The ward had dark, long hair, reaching to her waist.
Her curtain bangs covered her helixes, while she tucked a hair strand behind her ear.
But she had no white coat on, but a formal wear of a tunic top, and indigo blue high-low skirt, wearing mary jane platforms.
Juliette’s ward was a fan of fashion.
And honestly, Juliette wiggled her brow with amusement.
Juliette eavesdropped. “You’re quitting as a doctor? Seriously?” Her nurse friend, Agatha Smith, looked at her.
Like other nurses, she wore her uniform, with a high blonde bun.
“I quitted yesterday.”
The ward answered, then started snapping her fingers, looking at it. “I’m stressing out lately. Because I wanted to visit my aunt from Clotho.”
Agatha frowned. “But Gwendolyn…”
“I have to,” Gwendolyn soothed, her eyes still at her gloved fingers. “She has been ill since last week. I knew I had to help.”
Juliette learned things. Her name was Gwendolyn Hills, and she had a sick aunt that is currently the only one keeping the Hills’ bloodline tight.
Agatha sighed, facepalming. “You were one of the best doctors in Lachesis, Gwen! I’m sure you will regret resigning.”
“Indeed I will.” Gwendolyn nodded, “But it is for the sake of my aunt.”
“It is just an illness, right?”
“At the same time, I do not need to work anymore.”
Gwendolyn turned to her shoes, “But I would like to visit you at least, once in a while.”
Agatha smiled slightly. “We won't forget about you.”
Gwendolyn scoffed, she headed towards the exit, with a briefcase in her hand.
Juliette followed her, walking behind her ward as she put her hands behind the back of her head.
Gwendolyn paused.
Juliette halted as well. “Now, what is she doing?” She muttered with a deep breath.
Gwendolyn walked out of the hospital.
The reaper followed, but curiously. Gwendolyn pulled out her car keys, and unlocked her car door.
Gwendolyn walked inside her car and took her drive.
Juliette had to sneak inside the car and sat next to her. She slowly turned her head to the driver with curiosity.
So this is what it feels like to sit on the passenger seat.
She drove towards the lively street. Juliette crossed her arms, unsure of what to do.
Gwendolyn sighed, turning left.
This was Juliette’s first ride, in a modern car.
And she never felt so proud of herself before.
It took a few turns, and she parked in a parking lot.
Gwendolyn opened the car door, and slammed it shut.
Juliette followed.
She did not have anything else to bring, and took her own car keys and the brief case anyway.
Gwendolyn had to take a walk, and the grim reaper sighed heavily.
She exited the city.
There were sidewalks in the city that would lead them to an open road.
Gwendolyn put her hand above her brows, squinting her eyes as she saw multiple houses, from a far.
It was an open field outside of the large city, the pathway leading to a happy town far away from the city.
That is the town of Clotho. Where Gwendolyn’s aunt lived.
She had to walk all the way to that place in order to take care of the ill relative.
Though, the grass of the fields were dancing, tumbling from the wind.
Juliette had to speed time in order to handle her impatience.
She snapped her fingers, and instantly, time was faster.
Because the grim reaper was restless.
Now, Gwendolyn has arrived at the gates of Clotho.
She did bring her equipment, or personal belongings, a pocket journal that she can write with.
Gwendolyn looked around, her curiosity taking note of the crowds.
Some of the towns folk were taking a walk, or either heading somewhere for their business. A lot of them were taking care of shops, or buying from them. There are, as well, poor beggars surrounding stores that would provide them food.
She saw signs of dirty clothing, and all of them carried old cloth on their shoulders. That symbolizes the townspeople of Clotho.
Gwendolyn felt a sense of ease as she walked to the location of her aunt’s place: an old cabin surrounded by fruit stands, and other cabins where townspeople often live.
She knocked on the wooden door, twice.
Though, she did not need assistance at all. She opened the door with an additional key under her pocket journal.
Gwendolyn looked around the living room, accompanied by a wooden table with a plate full of scones and berry jams.
She walked around, looking directly at the barely ripped couch, which she didn’t mind and continued exploring.
While walking around, she looked at the plate, underneath is a note.
She took it, and read it.
“To Gwendolyn Hills.
Hello, my niece. I am wondering, if I ever die, when will you get a husband? I mean it.
Usually, women like you would find rich and noble men to marry, and as well as falling in love with them. There is nothing to worry about Mason, do you know him, my husband?
He ran away, and I did not know where he had gone. Actually, my illness is not as common as you see.
Talk to me in the 1st bedroom, and tell me what you think of this note! -Auntie Jill”
Gwendolyn frowned, and crumpled the note, then placed it on the same table. She looked around, and saw another door. She opened it, and saw her aunt lying on the bed.
There was a single nightstand, with a portrait of her youthful days, when she had married a young man, with curly brown hair. To Jill, she had short hair, bob hair cut, reaching only to her neck. Both couples wore fancy clothing, exploring their moments when they worked together in the Atropos castle.
Gwendolyn looked at her aunt on the bed, grabbed a small wooden chair, and sat down beside her.
Her aunt was frail, weak, barely breathing, wearing a white shirt and covered with her comfortable bed blanket. Gwendolyn wondered how she ended up like this.
Juliette towered over them, and put her hands on her hips with a confused expression.
What Juliette is seeing is her aunt, and is about to die from a heart attack.
Today.
Juliette hummed, walking around the bedroom with a smile.
The former doctor placed her brief case on the ground, pulling it open, revealing her medical equipment. She took a syringe and stood up.
Gwendolyn pulled the plunger of the syringe, sucking a large volume of air in the barrel.
Juliette gazed at her syringe with suspicion.
Jill had a runny nose, with skin rashes on her bare skin.
“Auntie,” She smiled, patting Jill’s shoulder.
Jill’s eyes fluttered, then coughed slightly, with white spots on her mouth. “I’d say you need an injection for rubeola.” Gwendolyn flicked the barrel, about to inject her aunt on her forearm.
She carefully injected the air into her forearm.
Then waited for 10 minutes by staring at her own hands.
After 10 minutes, Jill choked, Gwendolyn then stood up with her brief case, and left her aunt on the bed, slowly dying.
Juliette’s eye widened, shooting her brows up, watching her aunt die from a heart attack.
Gwendolyn exhaled through her nose, and dropped her briefcase on the ground, then ran outside of the house. “Help!” She cried out, clenching her jaw.
Juliette scowled, following her once again. “But why did she do that?” She wondered to herself, walking towards the former doctor who had just killed someone.
But what is the reason?
. . .
However, for the past 20 days, Gwendolyn kept the house clean, as if her aunt was still there.
Not only had she just killed someone, unsuspected because of death, Gwendolyn did not feel remorse at all.
The cause of death was air embolism, but the doctors in the town suspected that it was a heart attack. Gwendolyn sat on the same bed where her aunt died.
Gwendolyn was barely nude. Only wearing her bra and spats.
She smiled to herself, then stood up, walking outside of the room, and grabbed a body-sized towel.
Juliette looked over, and headed towards her.
She walked inside the clean looking bathroom, putting the towel, hung on the doorknob.
Gwendolyn turned on the shower, and soaked herself, naked.
Juliette peaked.
Though, she did not feel aroused by the sight.
Rather curious. “Hm…” She stared at Gwendolyn, who was taking a peaceful shower. “I wonder if myself can take a relaxing bath like that.”
Quite a strange question, but not respectful, Julie.
Gwendolyn rinsed her body, using organic soap her deceased relative used.
Juliette yawned, walking back to the living room, and sat on the couch comfortably.
“Three crows sat upon a wall,” Gwendolyn whispered to herself, walking out of the bathroom, wrapped in the blanket, and swiftly headed towards the bedroom to change.
“Sat upon a wall, sat upon a wall.”
She heard the lullaby, and stood up curiously. “Three crows sat upon a wall…” Gwendolyn paused, putting on a white shirt. “On a cold and frosty morning.”
She finished, and darted her gaze towards Juliette’s direction.
Juliette flinched, backing away.
Gwendolyn blinked, then put on her pants. “The first crow was crying for his mother,”
The grim reaper sighed, and crossed her arms.
The first day of guarding the former doctor was already unhinged.
Watching your ward kill someone, unspeculated, that isn’t normal. That was homicide. “Crying for his mother, crying for his mother.”
But, with a syringe, making it look like a heart attack.
Was Gwendolyn experienced at murder? And how did she forget about it after days?
“The first crow was crying for his mother… on a cold and frosty morning.”
Juliette wondered, and watched her ward roll on the bed to sleep.
. . .
The next day.
For a while, Juliette wanted to watch the whole town, and leave Gwendolyn unattended.
Juliette scowled, facing an alleyway. “It feels boring to watch this town without anyone dying, right?”
There was a small black cat in front of her, and it tilted her head in response. “Never mind.” She scoffed, turning her body, then walked away from the cat.
Juliette returned to Gwendolyn after a few steps into the town.
Gwendolyn was buying bread in a nearby store.
Just to eat all by herself, no company, once again. Juliette felt that.
“How cheap,” She laughed, and bought the bread for herself.
The grim reaper stared, watching her walk away with a small paper bag in her hand. She followed her, walking somewhere deeper in this town.
Both women had been hearing whispers from the female crowd, despised by many men.
“You’re saying, the first prince will visit this town?”
“But what of the second prince?”
“He is quite busy with his work.”
“I heard, prince Lance has been looking for a woman to marry.”
“You must be wondering if you want to be his spoiled princess!”
Gwendolyn sighed at the whispers, and flipped her hair with her other hand. “That is not something to be amused of.”
Juliette giggled at her sarcasm. Everyone would be pleased to meet the first prince.
He is quite the handsome one.
As Gwendolyn continued to walk, she noticed a crowbar, being used by a man trying to remove a nail on his vandalized doorstep.
She then bumped onto another man, almost dropping the bread on her hands.
The man yelped, and stood up quickly.
The crowd in the town paused. Too fast.
Gwendolyn looked up, “I’m sorry-”
When she looked up, the man had brown, medium flow cut, and those recognizable hazel eyes.
His name was Lance Valois. The first prince of Atropos in the new generation.
He wore royal garments, symbolizing his royalty and authority in the joyful town.
Gwendolyn’s eyes flickered with confusion.
“You are…” Lance blinked, then smiled politely. “I apologize, I wasn’t looking in my direction.” He bowed at her, holding her hand, and kissed it.
Gwendolyn slowly formed a disgusted look.
Normally, if a prince were to fall in love at first sight, he would kiss their hand, it’s part of Fatum’s tradition for Atropos. “No,” She shook her head, now forcing a small grin. “Please, I purposely crashed into you.”
“It would be kind to see you admit.” He chuckled, and stood straight, almost towering her with his height. “But, I’ve noticed your… Appearance.” Lance beamed at her. “Were you the one who saved my cousin’s life?”
Gwendolyn gasped sharply, “Charlotte Gracefield?”
“Yes, indeed.” Lance nodded at her, and started making childish gestures. “You’re quite skilled! Saving my cousin’s life, and he talked to me about you!”
Gwendolyn’s expression softened, into something more genuine. “He talked about me?”
Juliette rubbed her chin with her gloved hand curiously. “That sounds like a crush to me.” And, Juliette never saw Charlotte in person.
“He did!” Lance then looked away. “But, I'd like to request you something, I would like to make friends with you.” He blushed at the thought, stroking one of his hair strands.
“How romantic.” Juliette remarked.
The woman nodded in amusement, taking a bite of her bread. “Though… I’d say, you are quite a young gentleman.” She said, “You will become the king because of your respectful mannerism. Typical of a prince, it is acceptable.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Juliette watched them, then squinted her eye.
She could see that this prince would die next week.
Killed by a sow.
A bear?
Juliette tilted her head to the side, rubbing her chin with fascination.
In Fatum, there are no bears living in this country.
Quite strange, she thought.
Gwendolyn bowed at him, pressing her other hand on her chest. “If we meet again,” She lifted her head slightly, looking at him subtly. “We shall talk at other times.”
The prince nodded, with a manly grin on his face. “Very well!”
He walked past her, and headed towards the exit of the town. “Mauled by a bear…” Juliette repeated, her eye closely observing her ward. “It couldn’t be you, right?”
Gwendolyn stood, crushing the bread on her hand.
. . .
In the middle of the night, Gwendolyn ran her hand on her face.
Princes are unpredictable, especially in romantic relationships.
However, Gwendolyn had no type for royals.
She’d prefer someone who is not alive, probably something in fiction, or literally.
Juliette stood in the corner, observing her every move.
“I smell interest.” She muttered, and stood up from the couch, and left the living room.
Juliette didn’t get it, and sighed.
Gwendolyn decided to take a walk in the middle of the night.
Which might be dangerous, because there are thieves. “Interest… Interest…” She kept muttering, her gloved-hands behind her back.
She stood by and saw the same crow bar leaning on the wall.
Gwendolyn looked around, then snatched it in her arms. “This might be dangerous to be left at night.”
Juliette watched Gwendolyn walk back to her house, and followed her.
As Gwendolyn returned to the living room, she headed to her bedroom, and snuck the crow bar under her bed. “That should be better.”
She pulled out her black gloves and placed them in the drawer beside her bed.
Juliette wondered, why would someone like her, steal a crowbar, and leave it under her bed?
. . .