• Her name was Wrath, the daughter and only child of the Grim Reaper and a witch. Despite her name and her parents, one would never see her as wrath itself.

    She was loved by her parents and kept inside a beautiful manor in order to protect her from the outside world. Wrath was kept well and was always showered by her parents love despite them having to disappear so often in her lives.

    Her mother traveled on the full moon of each month on her broom and told her tales of the outside world. Wrath loved how these tales filled her heart and hungered for more, but was always told by her beloved mother to never venture out.

    "You are the daugther of Death and a spawn of the Devil," she told her young daughter before she set out, "You must never leave your home."

    Her father only came to visit her when Winter froze the earth and the nights grew longer. Death never spoke a word to his daughter, but gave her small gifts of light kept in small cages that turned into animals. Wrath giggled at the sight when they changed from a rabbit to a dragon and Death himslf smiled. She begged for him to take her into the world, but like his wife of magic he too gently shook his head.

    Death could not speak nor touch his daughter in fear that he too would take her soul for to hear his voice or feel his touch was the end of life for many. Instead he'd shake his head and point to the moon place a dark fog upon it, a warning for her to remain within her white manor of magic and never travel out.

    But Wrath grew restless.

    As she grew over the years Death and his wife noticed how beautiful she became and more tired she grew of staying in their protective castle. Wrath was not as tamed as her witch mother who controlled her magical urges nor silent like her Grim Reaper father who merely gazed with dark eyes to give out his words.

    Instead Wrath would pace around the manor and try to make as much noise as possible to relieve her boredom. She'd dance and sing until her throat became coarse. It was one day she venture out on a bright day of Fall that she'd meet him.

    She looked like a fairy he told her after she stumbled out of her greenhouse into the woods on accident after seeing a butterfly. Her long wild red hair mixing into the bright leaves that flew in the wind, her eyes so dark like the night, and her pale skin covered in odd black tattoos of flowers and animals that he nearly thought she was a lost bride of nature.

    Wrath blushed at his words and her heart began to grow into fire when he stared at her. Who was this creature? Was he like her? The man smiled and she covered her red face into her hands and ran, but always came back to that place in chance to see him writing under the dogwood tree.

    Her mother found out about her lover first and soon her father. They were outraged that she would hide this, a mortal lover?!

    "If he were immortal we would be fine, but mortal?! My darling please refrain from this!" her mother screeched in horror and fear as she clutched Wrath's hands until smoke began to rise, "To be in love with a mortal here....It's too dangerous! It's a mistake!" Death gripped his scythe until the souls within it screamed out in pain as Wrath looked at them both, "But I love him......"

    Those words touched their hearts as she looked at them with an innocent look of happiness," I love him. He's all I have next to you two....Please let me love him." They merely nodded, but Death knew that his beloved daughter's lover would soon pay the price if he continued his courting......

    Wrath left the manor one morning around the first weeks of Winter, she sang out in joy as she walked towards their meeting place. She saw him and nearly ran into his arms, but stopped at what she saw as his body fell into the snow.

    Men in black clothes holding holy crosses kicked his body until red flowed into the white earth as a man in white began to shout at her as she stood and watched. For Wrath was the daughter of a witch and Death, the unholy symbol that touched the odd stranger of their village and would be their doom.

    She stood and stared, stared as they began to stop beating her lover and turn to her. Wrath finally screamed, a howl that shook the earth as Wrath finally became the demon of anger that they feared.

    Death glanced down at the destruction of the village as he gathered the dead and tossed them beyond his daughter's fire into the pits of Hades. The witch flew overhead quickly casting spells to try to stop Wrath's powers from destorying anything else. It was than when they reached the one place untouched by the wrath of their daughter did they find them.

    Wrath cradled his corpse and cried silently as they approached, "Don't take him from me...Don't take him from me..." Her mother clutched her broom stick as she tried to pry her daughter only to be burned by the fire of anger, "Wrath..." Never had the witch saw her daugther this way. Tears that melted the snow and burnt the earth beneath it, eyes full of emptyness, and a voice full of despair. It was than Death did something....

    The Grim Reaper set his scythe down and embraced Wrath. The first touch he had ever given her. His wife watched as their daughter slowly began to close her eyes, "....Thank you..."

    Death pulled away and gently lead the two souls away as his wife sobbed. How odd that Wrath, their daughter, would be the one to die before them....