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(This story was done a bit differently than the others, so you'll have to forgive me)
"Adante, the Bloody Rose, Blaske." I said with resignation. The two demons looked at each other incredulously and burst out laughing. I glared at them before shoving one aside and making my way to the inner most reaches of The Demon Kings palace. I was placed here because I was the finest reaper currrently known. And really, me and the Demon King didn't get along at all. His keep was where I was trying to go, but that was proving impossible.

As I walked through one of the many hallyways in the giant maze, I noticed that it was line with mirrors. I looked in one and sighed. Long brown hair with a slight curl, tan skin, black scars to travel down my face and spread across the rest of my body. Of course, even the scars had anomolies. Two red scars starting from just above my eyebrows down to just at the end of my cheeks. Two others started under my eyes and followed my jaw line until the stopped just short of my lips. God, what a sight I must have been to anyone who looked. Well, anyone human. Even my eyes were a cause for great fear. My irises were yellow, my pupils slited, and what would normally be the white of my eyes was black. I was wearing my favorite top today, a red tank with long shoulder less sleeves. It showed off my first scar, a black skull with angry red eyes engraved forever on my left shoulder. I'd always wondered why it was on my weak arm.

As the hallways went on and on I finally stopped. I looked around and glared at my surroundings. I was mutha-friggin lost. I tugged my fingerless gloves on a little tighter before slamming my hand into the wall behind me. I held my hand for a bit, not that it really hurt, but because I was even angrier my punch couldn't even slightly dent the walls. I swore. The palace hadn't looked so bloody big from the outside, but the inner keeps were all underground. It was designed to play a very good trick on invaders. this place could very well hold the Demons King's army, the Sea Kings army, and the Sky Queens army. I sighed and dropped my hand.

Three hours later I yawned. I may never have to eat or drink, or even breath, but every reaper needs her rest. I looked around for a door, anything to find my way back up to where the sun, hopefully, still shone. I swore loudly, hoping for someone to hear. I looked at one of the walls, and sighed. My wings were in a small closed space. I was feeling closterphobic. So, in my head, two plus two equaled a shield spell and my wings taking to the surface. A red pantagram appeared infront of me. I looked it over before deciding what runes I should use on it for defense. Dragon rune was complex, but well known for lasting longer. Just in case the spell didn't last me to the surface I added a second circle around the pentagram. Just as I began carving unto the pentagram the proper runes my eyes caught a flicker in my periphial vision.

The pentagram vanished. I summoned my scythe as I warily turned around. A shadow loomed just ahead of me. Red eyes flicker from beneath the cloak it wears. I had to step back, just to see it fully. I stared at me, and I back. "Blaaaske." It drawled out in a think scratchy whisper of a voice. I swore again before taking an offensive stance. I almost lunged at it before I felt a cold blade pressed to my throat.

"Hello my lovely. My precious little bloody rose." a cruel voice, not unlike the shadow ahead of me, whipered in my ear. I almost flinched. I felt my magic tug at me, and I knew that by nature my body was using displacement spell to get me the hell away from there. I heard the angry gasp as the knife slid through the black ashes that were me. I flew backwards desperate for an escape, but was stopped by an explosion of light. A barracade! They weren't letting me escape. I slid back into solidity and glared at the two before me.

A young man with long black hair glared back at me. He wore a black vest, black pants and shoes. His eyes were all white, even the irises and the pupils. I almost smiled. Fallen angels were a very common sight these days. But the shadow behind him did not exhume the aura of a demon, or and angel, not even a fallen angel. The aura felt familiar, and I almsot lurched when I figured out what it was. The shadow was a reaper, and a damned old one at that. I straitened.

The fallen angel stiffened, as if thinking I was to attack him, and the reaper reached out towards me with a gloved hand, pointing at me directly. I couldn't help it. "It's rude to point..." I said as my scythe returned to my right hand.

"Blaaaske." it said again.

"So you know my name, congrats for you freind. But why attack me for it?" I asked. My eyes were on them, but my magic had already slipped past them, a second pair of eyes, looking for safety. The best I could do was run. And I did. I pulled a small blade out of my scythe and tossed it at the fallen, ducked around the reaper and literally handed him an already fading scythe, and bolted as fast as I could down the hallway. A flurry of wings told me the fallen had already recovered the knife I'd thrown at him, and he was in a very big rush to catch me. I felt like a dream to me.

I was running so very fast, and with no need for breathing that was very easy. Even fallen angels had breath and a heart beat, though they were no where near human in the capacity for how much they needed either. I took a chance and looked back. I almost screamed. The reaper was inches away, keeping up with with an ungainly jaunt. I stopped, ducked its swing and aimed a kick at its sides. It stepped back and reached for me again. I grabbed the fallen and in a good toss, ended hurtling the boy right at the reaper.

This time I was really running. I wasn't stopping this time. I wouldn't. My shoulder burnt where the curse mark was, as if begging the other reaper to go away. And for once in a long time, I was very, very afraid. I felt like crying, but knew it would do me no good. Why were they after me?

Suddenly my back was on fire. It hurt. I had to stop, to reach behind me and touch the pain and wince. My hand came back bloody. I looked up and saw the triumphant reaper holding his cruel scythe. With my blood on it. I stopped and winced as the pain shuddered through me once more. But my eyes were not on the scythe anymore. It was on a black object on the ground. No. No. No! I screamed then. I had to! It was my wings! My wings! They've taken my wings! I fell to me knees, staring at the wings screaming.

"Blaaaske." it said. "Diiiiiie." It raised the scythe and I just stared. Then all hell broke lose.

I remember the pain dimming to almost nothing. I couldn't control my limbs as I lurched forwards. Suddenly, its scythe was in my hands and I hack sawing my way through it's cloaked darkness. With an angry scream, it vanished. The scythe went with it. The fallen boy looked suddenly afraid.

"Huh, not much without your 'gaurdian' are you?" I said in a voice not my own. My eyes narrowed as I realized he wasn't at me. He was staring behind.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god..." I heard him whisper under his breath.

I whirled around, my own scythe in my hands, ready to fight. I stopped. The King of Demons stared at me bewildered, his eyes flickering from my face to my scythe at his jugular. Then his eyes turned to a mirror next to us. I looked too.

The scythe clattered to the ground. My eyes were all black, just like the fallen boys, just in reverse. My scars were almost all gone except for a few. The first two reds ones that started over my eyebrows were now accompanied by black ones almost exactly along side them. The other two red scars that followed under my eyes to along my jaw had the same thing happening. I looked like I was bleeding. I looked at my shoulder and almost fell backwards. The black skull with glaring red eyes now grinned a very white toothy grin.

I looked at the demon king, and for a second, I thought I was thinking the exact same thing he was. "What the hell is going on?"