Keep your eyes closed, shut them tightly because if you can't see what is in front of you it doesn't exist. It's been twenty minutes since I woke up and still had my eyes closed. My number one reason for pretending to be asleep is that while the gracious God of Death brought me home, he was still here.

I could hear his footsteps pacing back and forth, he was waiting for me but I didn't want to talk to him. While the throbbing pain from my head has subsided, my mind didn't want to rest as it replayed what happened earlier. Fate. Death. Crier of Souls. Wings. Heart. Darkness.

Fate has angered Death, now I had become part of that anger. But I wasn't afraid of his rage, after all, anger was layers of pain that has not been able to heal. Fate was cruel for not letting Death have his wings back and was even crueler for thinking that Death has a heart to open.

Rapid footsteps came towards me, I held the blanket tightly as I ignored the hairs on my skin standing up.

"I know you are awake, raven." Death said.

Mierda. (Shit.)

I kept my eyes closed, "You promised me that I would never have to see you again. I am only trying to make the best out of your broken promise."

I hated this, he hated this. We didn't want to be in each other's presence but Fate has made other plans for us.

"You don't have the voices." He retorted.

I opened my eyes meeting Death's cold gaze, the blackened vines were no longer corrupting his face. My hands loosened the hold of the blanket, once again I found myself wanting to trace my fingers down his face. To touch the deceiving monster who hid behind a handsome face.

I was still laying down on the couch as for Death, he positioned himself like a looming cloud ready to unleash a storm. His arms were spread apart as he placed each hand on my side pressing the couch down. He dipped his head, our noses almost brushing.

It looked like a fairytale scene, the princess waiting for her prince to kiss her from the deep sleep of nightmares except we were far from the fairytale story. I wasn't a princess and he wasn't a prince, if anything we were the ones who cast the curses on the princes and princesses.

I held his stare, "You broke that promise as well the moment you put them back inside my head again to get your stupid prediction."

His eyes narrowed, I turned my face from his as I lightly touched his nose. I sat up moving the furthest away from Death, I brought my knees to my chest pulling the blanket over my body when I saw my right hand was wrapped in a white cloth. I forgot about my palm bleeding strangely, I didn't feel any pain.

Death said arrogantly, "I believe the word you are looking for is thank you."

I lifted my head to see Death and I wanted to laugh. He wanted a thank you yet, he was the one who cut my palm open. And everyone tells me that I am delusional.

"Why are you still here?" I asked.

Death stuffed his hands into his pockets, "Because Fate decided to trick me and now I am stuck with you again."

"Right about that, I think you should try talking to her again. I am sorry you couldn't get your wings but I can't help you." I rushed through my words.

He said bitterly, "Fate isn't changing her mind, she has already created my path to getting my wings and you have become part of it." His eyes found mine, "We cannot escape Fate."

I leaned back on the couch running my fingers through my hair, two Gods were now making my life miserable and I was stuck with the worst one. Should I close my eyes again and pretend this isn't real?

"Don't look so sad. I am the one who has to open my heart to you." He said dryly.

Without thinking I said, "Do you even have a heart?"

My heart drummed in a panic as I felt the air in the room becoming thick and cold. I squeezed my eyes trying to forget the words I spoke and hoped Death didn't hear me.

I was wrong because the next moment Death placed his hands against the couch trapping me, his midnight eyes held my brown ones.

"Do you have a pure heart?" He asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows trying to understand the meaning behind his question, I didn't even know how to answer that question. What even qualifies a pure heart?

"Go on, answer it." He insisted.

I swallowed my irritation, "I have a heart. I can feel and understand, can you say the same?"

Death held my gaze deeply, he stared and stared and stared in silence. I didn't want him to think I was afraid of him, so I let him burn me with a look. The corners of his mouth began to twitch as he took in more of my eyes, almost as if he was searching for something.

"Your heart is fighting, trying to suppress the darkness inside of you." His fingers lightly touched a strand of my hair, "Should I break you? Or should I let you keep hiding?" He smirked devilishly.

I grabbed his hand, "You can't break something that is already broken."

Death raised an eyebrow, still holding his hand I shoved it towards him and took the opportunity to get up from the couch. I needed to breathe, I needed space and Death was only suffocating me.

I walked over to the fridge and took out the water pitcher and reached for a glass cup from the dish rack. As I filled the glass with water, Death sat down on the stool and folded his hands. He looked like a businessman in his usual neatly fitted black suit, but this man's business was with the dead.

"Raven, do you want to play the hero?" He said teasingly.

I put the pitcher down and gritted out, "I thought you said I was not the hero."

I remembered from our first meeting, that he told me I should know better than to play the hero and it certainly wasn't the first time someone has told me that.

He nodded, "Yes, however, I am willing to take back those words. You can be the hero, I will make you into the hero. Except your heroic acts won't be for the living but the dead."

I narrowed my gaze, "What are you talking about?"

He elaborated, "The boy you saved, you gave him a message from his dead father. You can help me deliver messages to the living from the dead, as you know a lot of people leave with regrets, and in doing so, I can open my heart to you."

Death made it seem like it was a win-win situation and it wasn't. I am not capable of delivering messages to the living from the dead, I don't see ghosts. But you can hear them. Yes, fine, I heard Theo's father in the hospital but that must have been a one-time thing, I mean I never heard or seen ghosts before.

"How did I hear him? How was that possible?" I asked.

He answered, "And she says she cannot be broken. It is because of your power you can hear them, you are already breaking what's inside of you."

Power. Power. Power. Did I really have a power inside of me that I wasn't unaware of? No, that's possible. I would have known, my mom would have told me. She would have, right?

Death interrupted my thoughts, "You can stop feeling guilty." My head snapped towards him, "If you deliver messages from the dead to the living, you can feel better about yourself, for all those lives that have vanished before your eyes." He continued.

I wonder if there was a way to kill a God, I know he can bleed. Maybe one day I can hurt him as he has hurt me. But for now, I can humble him.

I gripped the glass and lifted my head, "Be careful with your words, Death. You don't want to make me upset, after all, you are the one who needs me. I don't need you." His face fell flat and my lips curled wickedly.

I don't know what power is inside of me, but what I do know is that I have power over the God of Death right now. What he wants, what he needs, I have it. I let go of the glass and walk over to the God of Death and stand in front of him.

He lifted his chin, showing his jaw clenching again.

"Don't worry, I will help you. I know you won't leave me alone if I say no and the quicker you open your heart to me, the quicker you will be out of my sight." I moved closer and tilted my head to look at him, "But if you ever make me upset again you can kiss your wings goodbye...forever." I said the last word breathless.

To think I was starting to feel bad for him. I can play this game too, heartless, ruthless, angry, and merciless. Just like him.

Death's murderous eyes twinkled, his mouth and nose twitched together.

"Oh raven, is this the real you? Because if it is, I like it. I like it a lot."

*****

He left a bouquet of tulips again. When I entered my room, they were sitting on my bed. I picked up the white tulips touching the velvety petal, and my fingers pressed into the smooth surface. Why tulips? I kept staring at the tulips as if they would give me the answer.

I dropped the tulips back on the bed and let my body hit my soft mattress, exhaustion flooded through my body. I stared at the ceiling as I thought about my conversation with Death earlier, he said he will make me into a hero.

I didn't believe him, delivering messages from the dead to the living was letting me play the Grim Reaper. The Grim Reaper was not the hero and that's what Death was, the Capturer of Souls as Fate called him.

I reached for the bouquet again and pulled a single tulip, I began to pluck each petal out.

Death.

Grimm.

Death.

Grimm.

Death.

Grimm.

The last petal has fallen.

A ghost smile passes my lips, I think I found him a name.