Ficlets

Step 3: Don't Make A Scene

I looked down at the lettering going up my forearm.
It said My Curse in small, Gothic lettering.
I ran two fingers up my tattoo, and felt that familiar burn.
I clenched my teeth as I became invisible, my eyes glowed red and my brownish hair became gray streaked with black.
I chain of bone shot from my back and wrapped around me like a sash.
My clothes flickered from my normal clothes to my black monk’s robes and a scythe of bone sprouted from my arm while the flesh drained from my body.
So, yes, now I was basically your classic skeletal image of a grim reaper.
It was decidedly cliche, but it is my only option of appearance when I “do my job”.
My empty eye sockets glowed with identical dots of red as I searched for the hassling man’s life line.
I caught sight of it and teleported to him, and slashed my scythe through it, killing him.
I transformed back and walked up to Emilia as the hassled woman screamed as the man dropped dead, unscathed.

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