He was just standing there, in the overly lit room, staring at the engravings on the illuminated wall and wondering

who could have possibly made them.

He loved this room; he himself had lit multiple rows of candles in it and other rooms. Seeing the monsters' black

shadows dancing on the wall was a delightful distraction from the bluish gray tunnels he had been living in for

almost five years.

Indeed, for five years ago he was a mere mortal being, a miserable human. Remembering his past life sometimes

upset him so much he romped on any monster he could find on his way . He was a self-proclaimed artist,

composing sounds that no one appreciated but himself. When he asked those people who hated his compositions

why they did, they just answered that it was too dark and gloomy and made them shiver at night. Fools.

One night, as he was wandering like a mere ministrel hoping to gain some coins by playing music, a strange being

suddenly appeared before him out of nowhere.

He recognized the strange being immediately. To some he was known as the Grim Reaper, to others he was

simply known as Death.

The musician immediately kneeled down and started begging the divine being, for he knew what his sudden

appearance meant. "Please, O Mighty Deity! Please spare my life! Please-

Death raised his hand and motioned for him to stop and said. "Calm down, human. I have not come to take your

life for it is not your time yet, and it might never be if you accept the proposition I am going to tell you now. Stand


He stood up very fast he almost staggered to his feet. "Very well. Now tell me your name."

"My..My name is Frederick Blackmore, Milord." He quavered while he spoke.

"I see. Now, Frederick, I have been observing you for quite an amount of time; I saw how nobody liked your

compositions and found it was quite a sad sight.

I enjoyed your music; I even brought my master along one night; he liked it as much as I did." Death said, his

deep voice entering his ears as if he was speaking from inside his body.

"Your master? You mean...the Dark Lord?" Frederick asked. Death just nodded. "I...I feel quite honored that such

a great man appreciates my music." He lied, so as not to anger the Grim Reaper.

"You should feel like so indeed. Now, about my proposition." Death stopped for three seconds then resumed. "I

ask you to join my master and become his humble servant."

Frederick was taken aback by his proposition. "M-Me? But how I could possibly be of any use to him?"

"Of course, you will gain new powers once you join us; new powers that will make you worthy of serving him. I

know you have hatred in your heart, Frederick. Hatred for those puny humans who doesn't pay you any respect.

You are an artist and you know it. But those mortals will never acknowledge this fact; only the creatures of the

night will. Do you not wish to take revenge on them? Do you not want to make they suffer as they did to you?"

Death said, his voice growing deeper as he spoke. Frederick took a moment to think.

What Death was saying was true. He despised the others for hating his music and wanted to make them pay.

Yes, he wanted to make them suffer.

Turning to face Death, he simply said, "Yes, I do."

"Very well, then." Death said.

Afterwards, he became a resident of the castle and was assigned to guard the Underground Labyrinth. However,

no intruder ever came, and he had few occasions to test his powers.

I shall steal all the people's shadows. I will create my final masterpiece and cover this country in blackness. Yes,

everything must be black! MORE BLACK!

As he was still staring at the engravings, something he didn't expect at all happened; the door to his abode


The intruder was a girl with long flowing black hair; Blackmore could see that there was no fear in her sky blue


How beautiful...Black ebony hair. She will make a fine addition to my shadow monster.

From his back emerged a giant shadow monster, made of the shadows of several monsters and humans he killed.

He shouted, "I will steal your shadow!" causing the girl to lunge at him, weapons drawn.

And the fight began.

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