Belle Adams' Butler
Waking up from a nightmare several hours before dawn, Belle fetched a drink of water. She paused in front of her kitchen's window when she noticed a lit lantern in front of her mansion's garden. Her butler stood there, shovel in hand. This was no hour to be gardening. Curious, she made her way outside, but when she had gotten close enough to see a large and hollow pit next to her eternally-stoic and polite butler, she saw him pick up a rotten body. A DEAD BODY! Her eyes widened fearfully when she saw her handsome butler drop the rotting body into the fresh hole. She asked in horror, "What are you doing?!" Surprised to see his young miss awake at this hour, he stared at her with the same expression he had been keeping up for all these years. He had made sure she was asleep before coming here. "Gardening." "And the body?!" she looked at him in disbelief. "Fertilizer," he answered her before picking up the shovel that was on the ground. Belle was now certain something had possessed her butler. Who gardened dead bodies?! She then heard him ask her, "Want to help me in planting it, Miss Adams?" he gave her a sweet smile. Note: If you enjoy a book of comedy with light-hearted romance and a gothic background. This book is for you~
The bounty- Part 2
The death reapers stared at the answer which the Grim gave. They had heard rumours and seen only glimpses of the thirteenth Grim. They didn't know much about him because the reaper was as good as a phantom who didn't appear in any Hawverts gatherings.
When they heard the growl of a hellhound appear from the back, the death reapers turned to see if it was their hellhound but it was different and bigger in size, "Meet Church," introduced Lucas and the next moment, the fight broke again.
The two hellhounds clashed their sharp teeth at each other while Lucas used his scythe on the death reapers, sending every one of them either falling down on the ground or crashing against the tree to only end up to fall. If they were mortals, they would have been dead by now but the dead couldn't die. They were persistent and eighty thousand sickles was a lot of money that one couldn't let go of.