"We've been receiving reports of humans dying before they're due. What makes it odd is its multiple targets at the same time, same wounds but completely different locations. I have speculated a vampire is at work here, a few victims were found sucked dry of blood. Find who's responsible and cast judgment…and do be quick about it this paperwork is getting ridiculous"

"Hm…same time, same wounds, different places? How fascinating! This should be fun!" Grell smiled brightly, slapping his Death book closed before jumping off the roof onto one building and on to another.

"A vampire hm? They always prove to be far more amusing than a human killer!" he giggled wildly unable to contain his excitement.

Vampires have always been nothing but a nuisance to Death gods. They are considered dead but only a part of their soul remains with its body. Rather tricky to classify them in records.

To make matters worse, powerful vampires have the ability to consume and trap souls of their victims, much like Demons, able to steal them away before a reaper could claim them.

Thus Death gods aren't exactly fond of the blood sucking creatures.

So whenever the chance is given, a Death god could be a vampire hunter for a few nights.

Of course, depending on who is given the assignment, the outcome could be less than a clean kill.

"If I do well maybe I can go back into the field, then Will can stop putting me on intern babysitting duty and and-"

Suddenly a loud crack burst into the night air, Grell skid to a halt at possibly the loudest gunshot sound he had ever heard, soon screams of pain and horror followed.


"Oh God!"

"Help! Somebody help me! My leg!"

Grell stood there dumbfounded, "…I only heard…one shot…"

The Red Death god listened carefully at the cries of the nights newest victims but found himself surrounded. Without a second thought he hopped onto the tallest structure in the area, looking down in hopes of understanding the madness. But what he found only made him more confused.

The dim lights of the London streets were just enough to see blood; though Grell was high enough that it only appeared to him as spots.

One victim was found next to the building he stood on, another two buildings over on the main road and the last in a tight alley way across the street.

No where near each other for one bullet to strike and hit another.

A normal bullet for that matter.

"Mein Sohn, nur Mut!
Wer Gott vertraut, baut gut"


"Jetzt auf! In Bergen und Klüften
Tobt morgen der freudige Krieg!"

Grell's heart fluttered at the sound of someone singing over the cries of pain, his eyes and ears tuned in to location of the beautiful voice and whoever it belonged to, immediately forgetting the assignment.

"Das Wild in Fluren und Triften,
Der Aar in Wolken und Lüften"

"An opera singer who chants after spilling blood? Be still my heart!" the Red Death god almost felt tears coming on as he ran as fast as his heels could carry him over rooftops, following the voice of an angel.

But as the voice slowly became closer and closer, Grell found himself with a new problem.

"Wait…I've heard this song before…but where?" he whined to himself, feeling a small headache come on and he desperately tried to fit a name to the song.

But it was too late, a hop, skip and a leap later he found the source of the beautiful voice…and a smoking gun in her hand.

"Ist unser, und unser der Sieg!"

"Und unser der Sieg!" Grell finished the song, the singer gasped and spun around to face the sudden visitor, "I can't recall the opera but I know the song!" he grinned.

"Wh-who are you?" the woman hollered, pointing a rather unusually large musket at him.

Grell paused for a moment to look over his target, she was tall and thin, wearing, for whatever reason, a mans double breasted suit, as dark as her long hair and where a strange curl was held high by her forehead, "Huh…not what I was expecting from such a voice…" he huffed, almost disappointed.

"Answer me!" she tried again, threatening to pull the trigger.

He shrugged, beggars can't be choosers, and finally took a deep bow, "I am Grell Sutcliffe!"

"A Reaper of souls and-"

"Zamiel…?" she cut him off, suddenly looking pale with horror in her eyes.


"Stay avay!" she screamed, pulling the trigger. As if she contained the sound of thunder in her hands, her gun unleashed another loud crack into the air as a large bullet flew straight for him.

"Gyaaah!" Grell yelped and quickly leaped out of the way, but was beyond surprised when he realized that the bullet was still coming for him.

"It's following me? That's just not fair!" he cried out, jumping all over the rooftop, back flips, front flips, barrel rolls, doing anything and everything but it was still right on his tail.

'Well that explains the multiple victims different locations issue!' he thought to himself while running for his life.

Then suddenly it clicked.

The name of the song was 'O Diese Sonne'.

From a play called Der Freischutz, in which she called him Zamiel a character from the opera. Then it all came together.

Der Freischutz , or The Marksman, told a tale about a man making a deal with a devil named Zamiel for magic bullets, who later betrayed the man and killed him, taking his soul into the wolves den.

"And the name of that man was…Oof!" before he could finish his thought, his heels now betrayed him, sticking into one of the many cracks on the roof causing the reaper to trip and land on his face.

Grell yelped and quickly crawled on his hands backwards until his back was against the wall, the bullet still coming at full speed aiming right in between his eyes.

The Red reaper shut his eyes and waited for…whatever happens to a grim reaper after being shot in the face.

As one last resort, he opened his mouth and attempted to put his opera knowledge to the test.

"Kaspar! Stop! I'm not a demon!"

It was silent; there was no pain or blood. No bullet to the face.

Grell opened one eye, only to find the bullet hovering in place a few feet away from his face, thought still spinning, ready at any given moment to continue its mission.

Magic bullets.

"…you know Der Freischutz?" she asked gently, slowly making her way over to him and her bullet.

It took a moment for Grell to recompose himself before answering.

"Y-yes I do! And I know what you're thinking but I promise you I'm not your Zamiel" he pleaded his case, while keeping his eyes on the bullet that appeared to be staring at him.

"But you called yourself a grim reaper, vhy should I not be vorried?"

Grell opened his mouth to answer but found nothing to say to defend himself, "…good point…"

"Well yes it is true I was sent here to kill you-"the bullet inched closer, "B-b-but I can't! Or I refuse to, not with a voice like that" he gulped, putting his hands up nervously in his defense.

They say flattery gets people no where, apparently they lied.

"…you're just saying that" she appeared to have blushed lightly. Grell fought the urge to drop his jaw, that wasn't suppose to work yet somehow it saved his life.

"No! I'm serious! Besides, it would be a disgrace to kill a fellow thespian!"

At this, her eyebrow was raised in curiosity.


"I don't mean to brag but I am a superb actress!" Grell held his head high in pride.

"Somehow I'm not surprised…erm…miss?"

"Trapped in a man's body I'm afraid" he huffed.

"That's makes two of us…" she finally cracked a small smile.

At this, Grell put on his best smile, hoping to weed himself out of death.

"Um…are you going to…you know, drop your…er…bullet now?" he asked politely.

She remained silent for a moment, looking at her bullet then back at him, "Ja, but that doesn't mean I'm going to trust you"

And with that, the large ball of metal fell from her mental grasp and plopped on the ground before him, lifeless.

"By all means I wouldn't trust me either…miss?"

"Rip van Winkle Fraulein Sutcliffe" her smile grew as she leaned against her musket, watching him carefully.

"Rip van Winkle huh?" he stood up, dusting off his precious red coat and flung his hair behind his back, "You know what? I like you!"

Rip blinked in confusion.

Whether she liked it or not, they were now friends.