Grim stood by as Artemis wretched open what was left of the car door, the mangled body of his target falling out.

"Oh, that's nasty," Grim muttered as he stooped over the corpse, "That's super nasty. Why couldn't dad assigned us something less..." he gestured his hand across the splattered remains on the car door, "...disassembled? What about that old dude that died peacefully in the hospital? That was cool. And there was a lot less creamed internal organs."

Artemis pressed his sleeve over his nose and mouth, looking rather queasy. "That would be because you dragged us to California for the weekend when your father assigned us to Rowland Jenkins. That was one of the cases you didn't do."

"You look so sour, Moony," Grim cooed, "Does this gross you out?" He held up a ripped piece of flesh, jiggling it in Artemis's face.

"This is serious! We're running out of time!" Artemis cleared his throat, noticing that his voice rose several octaves. "Just collect the soul already so we can get away from the corpse."

"Can you help me? I think I a..." Grim held up the woman's severed hand, "...hand!"

Artemis squealed, hiding his face. "That's not funny! You do this every time we have to collect an accident victim!"

Grim manipulated the hand's fingers to correspond with his own finger guns. "It still makes you scream though."

Shaking his head as Artemis turned his back, Grimslay hovered his hands over the woman's bloodied chest. A soft blue light emanated from beneath the flesh, the only light in the pitch-black pasture. Grim pulled his hands upward, slowly drawing the essence out of the corpse's chest. A flickering ball of light came into Grim's hands, sending chills down his arms.

The blue light reflected in Artemis's glasses. "Amazing," he breathed, standing a respectable distance from Grim.

"Hey, catch," Grim cackled, bringing the soul over his head.

"No!" Artemis bawled, frantically preparing himself to catch the precious ball of energy.

"I was just joking around, geez," Grim replied, rolling his eyes. "You're so strung out, Moony." Grim pushed the soul into his sleeve, the light disappearing into the void of his cloak.

Artemis would have liked to reply that Grim was precisely the reason he was strung out, but he held his tongue.

Trotting back to the car, Grim stretched across the driver's seat. "How about we go to the Waffle House? They're open all night. All this gory stuff has made me want some pancakes and sausage. What about you?"

As Grim turned the ignition and the car roared to life, Artemis glared at the center consol. Grim's cell phone buzzed hysterically, the name "Dad" displayed on the screen.

"Don't answer it," Grim muttered.

"But we have to. Ignoring the God of Death when he calls you isn't good," Artemis said, slightly strained. They seemed to have this conversation every week.

"Ugh, he's just an old fart. I want to go eat some late night breakfast before he yells at me again."

"Yessir? This is Artemis," Artemis said into the phone, ignoring Grim's orders, "Yes, he collected the soul. You want us to come home?" Artemis cut his eyes to his left, where Grim was hitting his head against the steering wheel. "We're on our way."

Hanging up the phone, Artemis turned to Grim, shrugging. "He wants to talk to you."

"Of-freaking-course he does," Grim said, throwing his hands in the air, "He always does. Let's just get this over with."

Grim slammed his foot on the break, shifting the car into reverse. He accelerated rapidly, plowing through rows of corn. Almost like liquid, the shadows beneath them rippled, and the car began to sink.