Grim

Season 1

Chapter 1 - The Wager

Remiel observes the pack of reapers spread across the globe from his perch upon a white cloud. The moisture condenses and evaporates on his skin which gives the angel a pleasing cool feeling over his body. He is watching over one reaper in particular. The reaper's name is Thomas Bjorn. In life he was a tall strong man with long blonde hair. In death he has become the longest lasting reaper in memory. He is efficient in his tasks, showing no emotion in sending souls to heaven or hell. Why? Why does he not choose?

"Why indeed friend?" The demon Ornias interrupts.

Remiel reaches for his sword, but does not draw it. "Foul beast begone lest ye lose thine head!"

Ornias laughs. "Why so hostile? We were brothers not so long ago, were we not? Many of the other grigori followed Satan rather than your tyrant. Besides you know as well as I that God will not allow you to strike. Not yet anyway."

Remiel sneers at the demon. "Tis but a matter of time until my blade tastes foul blood. Defile this place no more demon. I have no time for the muttering of a beast."

Ornias replies, "You angels think you are so special up in heaven. I didn't come here to argue with you."

"Why did ye come demon? When shalt this torment end? Tell me, so ye may depart swiftly."

The demon grins again. "I merely wish to observe the reaper who has caught your attention."

Remiel turns away from the demon. "Surely there must be a better vantage point. Go find it. Your stench soils this cloud."

"Ah the angel's need to have all things clean. What's wrong with a little dirt? Does not the flower grow from the earth?"

The angel's forehead wrinkles in thought. "The flower dost not smell of sulfur, hellfire, and blood. If thou wilst not leave then I shall."

Ornias flies around to block him. "Hold a second friend. I have an idea."

Remiel's eyes show his anger. His mouth drips sarcasm, "What is this profound idea that I must listen to before going about my business."

The demon smiles. "I propose a friendly wager."

"Ye know angels dost not gamble."

Ornias waves his hands in front of him. "You don't have to wager anything. If you win then I will fall onto my own sword. There will be one less demon in this world. I will even douse myself in holy water to prevent my master from ressurecting my soul in hell."

The feathers of the angel move as if the wind catches them individually. "Dost thou think I am a fool? Agreements with demons come with strings. What strings are attached to this contract."

Ornias acts offended. "I merely ask that you let me peruse your death list, and present it to the reaper myself. I would agree to hand over mine to you as collateral. We must ensure that the other is not cheating on this wager. I wouldn't stake my soul on it otherwise."

Remiel responds, "What guarantee dost I have thou wilst follow through once the wager is lost?"

The demon reveals his white teeth once again. "Ah one thing we demons excel at, binding contracts!" Ornias pulls out a long brown parchment. He licks his finger while looking it over. "Of course we must sign the contract in blood."

Remiel says, "Let me see that." The angel's wings twitch here and there while reading the contract. It appears to be legitimate. "We appear to have a wager demon. Your imminent demise appears to be certain. The reaper will choose Heaven over Hell."

Ornias rubs his hands together. "Excellent. I'm glad someone has noticed my suicidal tendencies. They have been neglected for far too long."