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The Grim Reaper's Fairytales Part III

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Part Three:

Malanthe awoke to the sound of thunder breaking across the sky like the cracking of ice over a pond. She knew something was wrong in Death's realm, because storm surges like these, Eigengraus, only formed when someone angered Death.
"Where is he?" A raspy voice demanded.
Malanthe noticed Tennyson was sitting on a chair next to her door. He put a finger to his lips, and for the first time ever, Malanthe listened.
She quietly stepped towards her door, unaware that her black wings had grown out behind her in the process.
She fell to the floor with a loud thud that reverberated through the house.
"That was Malanthe," Grim insisted. "She isn't used to her new form."
"Argh!" howled Death, making a black mist cover the entire house.
Tennyson helped Malanthe up, and when Death threw open the door, held her close.
"What are you doing with her?" He demanded, his gnarled and wrinkled face twisting with disgust. "She's a demon!"
"She is not a demon, Father. She is cursed," Tennyson announced as Malanthe struggled to get out of his grasp. But she couldn't manage it; new vampires are very weak, even lacking the strength of small humans.
"Cursed or not, she is still the daughter of a reaper, which makes her a demon," he spat as his cloak shifted and revealed a giant book at his feet.
Its cover was worn, and its rich purple color was faded to gray-brown. The letters, once stenciled in gold, were barely readable, yet if you took the time to trace them one by one, you'd be able oto make out the words 'The Book of Fates'.
Death flipped to a seemingly random page, and read the flowing letters as paper flied around him. "Malanthe, daughter of Grim and Serafina, dies a married woman at age 73 of a heart attack. Does this sound very likely if she's a vampire?" He shrieked at Tennyson. "You've ruined the book of fates! No one has tainted these pages in the history of the universe. So of course it was my son that had to destroy it! Do you realize what has happened here?”



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