The land was dark and desolate; a barren field with the only evidence of humanity being the rubble and debris of buildings as far as the eye can see. That was all the world was now; just shattered remnants of what once was. Humanity destroyed itself. It all started with the Gloom; it changed humans and made them evil and attack one another. First came the panic. Then the riots. After that the wars broke out and the anarchy until most of the humans were wiped from existence along with everything else which was blown to bits. Now, there's only few humans left who are struggling to survive.

 

A young boy of age five with markings of bones on his body and a sugar skull on his face was searching through the ruins of what once was a two story building. The Gloomified wildlife was too busy trying to kill another poor soul so the boy had time time to search for supplies. He needed some kind of medication for a dying man he called his father. With nothing but tattered pants and a satchel the boy was on his knees searching through the rubble for some kind of item he could give to his father so he could feel better.

"Por favor..." The boy sniffled, wiping away thick tears that ran down his face as he searched. The tears dampened the ends of his scruffy brown colored hair.

"Por favor... Por favor... Mi Papa..."

Edited March 17, 201510 yr by Awuwa7KH

Miguel reached his hand out of he cage with one hand, and rubbed his head with the other.

"Aye... Mi cabesa..." He tried his best to reach Grim, only managing to graze his fingertips. He looked around the area, and slipped into a minor panic.

"H-Hermano mayor-" Miguel said as his heart began to beat rapidly in his chest.

"Are they going to make us fight? I don't want to fight! Are they going to make me fight you? I'd kill myself before I fight you! Guada I don't want to fight you! Por favor I don't want to fight..." He shook his cage rapidly.

"Papa must have hear my whistle! Must have... Guada what if Papa didn't hear the whistle? He would still find us right? Because he's Papa right?" He stretched out his arm even more. "I won't fight..."

Grim looked at Miguel with worry. The fear in his eyes was haunting. What was worse there was a possibility that the fear would come true. He had to take over. He had to protect Miguel. He was the oldest, and it was his job, as Death said often.

 

“Don’t worry. Dad will find us. I knew he will. He’s our dad and he will be recusing us at any moment. We just need to give him time to sneak in and plan it all out alright?” Grim assured. The two stayed in the cage for a little longer, all the time Grim thinking of possible escape plans. Next thing they knew their cage doors were opened and they were forced to step out. As they did, across the small arena, two other children were thrown in. They were smaller, weaker.

 

“Welcome everyone, on today’s event we have two teams. Hansel and Gretel…” April cheered, as she then pointed at Grim and at Miguel. “And the brand new competitors, Day of the Dead and Grim Reaper!” With that the small camp cheered. The onlookers started to throw weapons into the arena. Knives. Daggers. Chipped off blades. “Now…two of you will have to die…by the time limit of 30 minutes. Or all four of you will die.” April said with a giggle, the camp watching on with smiles as they started to make bets. Grim carefully picked up a knife that had landed on his feet, staring at it. He turned to Miguel, smiling.

 

“Don’t worry, Miguel.” Grim said as he had a dangerous look in his eyes. “You won’t have to hurt anyone, and no one will hurt you.”

Miguel pulled his arm back in the cage. He felt comforted by those words. Still, deep down, he felt even more terror. He never saw fear in the eyes of Grim. He saw fear, but not that... Horrified. It haunted him for a while that is, until they were brought into the area. He was pitted against two other children who looked so frail and weak. He slowly grabbed a blunt knife and looked at the blood stain that was on it and momentairly wondered what person was slaughtered by it. Grim had a insane look in his eyes that made Miguel shutter. Slowly, he gently took a hold of Grim's wrist.

"Guada..." He muttered quietly. "You're not thinking of killing them, are you...? We have to escape. Papa is searching for us, right...?" He looked towards 'Hanzel and Gretel.'

"They can't defend themselves..." He muttered.

Grim rubbed Miguel's head.

 

"You're right. Dad is searching for us. But until he can come along, we have to survive on our own. It's my responsibility to watch over you. I'm going to make sure that I bring you back to dad safe and sound." Grim reassured. He gripped his knife tight in his hand. "Cover your eyes, alright?" With that, Grim turned away from Grim and started to walk to the younger competitors, his opponents. Only two could survive. Only two would leave the arena alive. He would make sure that those two were Miguel and him. Despite Miguel's comments on how the opponent could not defend themselves, Grim didn't hesitate. He dashed across the arena straight at the two. He first attacked the girl named Grettel. She could only shriek as Grim brought down the knife against her body. He stabbed her in the neck, and proceeded to her face, and head, blood splattering across the floor as the crowed cheered wildly. The little boy known as Hansel watched in horror as he was at the verge of tears. Grim didn't even wait. He launched himself from his first victim to Hansel. He raised his knife and stabbed down at the boy's chest, hearing him scream until the life left his body. Grim couldn't feel. He shouldn't feel. Not for anyone besides Death and Miguel. Everyone else was the enemy. He would make sure that they lived. Regardless what he had to do.

Miguel felt relaxed as Grim rubbed his head. However that disposition was short lived once Grim told him to close his eyes. Miguel didn't, and watched as his brother lunged forward for the first opponent. Miguel reached out his hand to stop him but was unable to act any further; he was frozen in fear.

"G-Guada what are you-" Grim attacked, and as he was off killing the first opponent Miguel couldn't help but scream.

"S-STOP! GRIM STOP! DETENGASE POR FAVOR!" It was too late, and the deed has already been done. Miguel suddenly ran foward and tackled his brother to the ground. He pinned him down. As he stared into his brothers eyes, thick tears ran down his face which dropped onto Grim.

"G-Guada-" Miguel breathed. "What are you.... Stop..." He looked back at the two bodies that were on the ground. Miguel's voice cracked.

"S-Stop..." He breathed.

 

(Stop please!)

Grim blinked at Miguel, feeling the cool tears drip from Miguel on his face and down his cheek as they mixed with technology drops of blood. His muscles relaxed, allowing himself to let go of the murder weapon, which was covered in warm blood along with his hand. Letting himself relax, he gently pushed one of his arms away from Miguel's grip, extending it as he rubbed Miguel's head.

 

"Didn't I tell you to close your eyes?" Grim asked, pulling Miguel into a closer embrace. "We're out numbered. Either they died or we did. You know that." Grim tried to assure Miguel. Truthfully he felt terrible on the inside. But he would never show it for the sake of being strong for his younger brother. He would let out his emotions when no one could see or hear. Until then they were locked inside.

 

"I will have to say that you're correct on that." A familiar voice. Grim turned to see Death walk into the arena, but before he could say anything, Death raised his hand. "I planned this." Death admitted. Grim's jaw dropped in shock as he looked around. Not a single person moved.

 

"What...?"

(Mfw Death comes in

)

 

Miguel jerked as Grim reached his hand out to rub his head. Once he did however Miguel let out a shaky breath. He understood why Grim did this. He would've had to do the same thing himself if it was him or the enemy. Still, the image haunted him, and no matter how hard he tried to shake the scene replaying in his mind he couldn't rid of it.

"S-Sí..." He muttered. "I-I understand why you... I- just... I..."

Suddenly, Death walked right into the arena and revealed that he was the one who planned this event. Miguel slowly looked up and sat on Grim's body as he looked right as his father. His eyes were wide and the tears caused black streams of paint down his eyes.

"P-Papa? Q-Que... Yo no comprendo..."

(What? I don't understand...)

Death walked over to the two, forcing them both to stand up regardless of their expressions of shock.

 

“If this were a real situation, you wouldn’t have survived, Miguel. The children would’ve killed you the moment they saw the chance in order to survive themselves. What if the children had overwhelmed Grim? He would’ve died and you would have been next.” He then turned to Grim. “And you tried to do it on your own. If you were to be against an overwhelming number that is trying to survive, it wouldn’t have been as easy. You would be dead. You cannot do things by yourself and expect Miguel to remain his sanity forever.” Death then pointed at the fallen children. “They were infected.” Grim felt his body freeze in place at the word.

 

“In..fected…?”

 

“Yes. That is why they were uncomprehensive. Were they not infected they would still be trying to kill you in order to survive. That is the scenario that is happening all around us, and if you two don’t step up to the game you won’t be able to survive.” Death sighed as he rubbed his head. “I won’t live forever...if I die how may I die in peace if I don’t know that you two cannot protect yourselves…even after you’re all that I’ve got.”

Miguel kept looking back at the children. From listening to his father speak, Miguel felt that this was all his fault. Not only would've he been dead because of his hesitation to kill, but because of this Grim would have had to fight alone and therefore die. He felt weak because of this. He didn't want to be weak especially because Grim and Death were strong. Being weak... Made him feel like he wasn't apart of the family.

"I-I'm sorry Papa..." Miguel muttered hoarsely. His throat felt as if it was on fire. He wouldn't dare look at his brother. He was afraid to. Afraid and ashamed. Instead, he looked around the arena. Was everything with the babysitter, April, and Aoba planned too?

"Come here." Death said as he brought Miguel into a hug. Grim stood there, his pained expression told that he was holding back his tears to avoid crying. "You too." Death said as he extended his arm. Grim didn't wait a minute before throwing himself into a hug with Miguel and Death. Death sighed and held the two close to him. "I'm sorry that I put you two through this, but the chance was too good to pass. These are survivors as well, what is left of an anarchy camp after they overran the bad guys." Death said as he looked down at the kids rather sad. "The Gloom is evolving, and the life expectancy of those who were phased into this mess rather than born into it is low. I want to make sure that if I were to disappear I've taught you all I can." Death assured before turning to Miguel. "Don't feel guilty, you'll learn in due time...we all do." Death said as he pointed at Aoba and April. "These are survivors that had been in my group before. Grim was a baby therefor he cannot remember. They're both now handling this camp."

 

Aoba and April waved.

 

"Sorry if we hurt you,kid." Aoba said with a smile.

 

"Or if we scared you sh*tless." April said with a laugh.

Miguel held his father tight. He didn't want to let go for a while. He held his brother even tighter. He hoped that he didn't have to witness such an event for a while.

"I love you Papa... I promise I'll learn." From there he swore to himself to get stronger. Not only for the sake of himself, but also for his father and especially Grim. Death mentioned that Aoba and April were allies. He turned his head towards them.

"You didn't have to hit me that hard in the head..." He almost cringed at the thought. Boy did that hurt. "Are we going to stay here Papa?"

"For a while,yes. Until...some things have been cleared up." Death said as he stood up. "You guys can explore around and make yourselves at home. But whatever you do...do not leave the camp." Death said as he stepped out of the small makeshift arena and walked over to April and Aoba, the three muttering something under their breaths before continuing to talk as they walked. Grim sat up and stared for a while before speaking. "...I hate him." Grim muttered. He turned to Miguel. "I hate him! How dare he do this to us?! To you?!" Grim hissed, obviously upset as he stood up and kicked the bloody knife away from him. He stared down at the bodies and cringed. "He could've just said they were infected and we would've left them alone! Or given them a peaceful quicker death! What I gave them wasn't quick, what I gave them wasn't peaceful!" Grim said, exploding into emotions the moment his father was out of view. "The last memory these strangers had of me was of me being their unholy murderer and...and..." Grim muttered as he paused, gripping his fists tightly. "He's hiding something. I just know it!"

Grim was suddenly cut off by a tight hug around the chest and a finger pressed to the lips. Miguel silenced him and closed his eyes tight. He couldn't be angry at Death right now. This entire mess just made him overly exhausted and emotionally strained. He just wanted to go to sleep or something. Stay in the camp? Fine. As long as he didn't have to do anything else.

"Por favor..." Miguel whispered softly. "Don't talk about it anymore... I don't want to think about it... Just please..."

 

Over the next week or so, Miguel hasn't been around Grim or Death- anyone really. He was committed to getting stronger, and because of this he would work himself to no end. As a result he has begun skipping meals or pretending to eat altogether, and exerting all his energy into bettering his body. Currently it was the middle of the night and it was pouring, and making sure no one was around Miguel was running small laps in the area of the camp for hours and hours nonstop. He was going to make sure he was strong. The boy didn't stop for the freezing rain, the muddy ground, or the rumbling stomach.

"What do you mean we cannot go any further?" Aoba and April sat in chairs as Death stood across the table. "The gloom has been...evolving. Further down there are not only a large amount of places contaminated with gloom, but infected who can end up killing you guys if they catch you from behind." Aoba spoke. "Then we will take another route. We can't stay here forever. We will exhaust the resources." Death said. "Understood. However, the Anarchists groups have been growing since the past few months. In a very uncomfortable rate. They will end up outnumbering you were you to encounter them." April said. "I understand as such. We'll keep away from them...if possible." Death said.

 

The conversation spun around Death's head over and over again. Looking at the map with a flashlight, the red circles had been increasing. He knew what would happen were they to encounter an Anarchist group. First they would be taken prisoners, then separated according to how useful each of them are to contribute. Lastly they'll decide your fate. If the stories he had heard were true, Miguel and Grim would be sent off to different camps, and they would be at the mercy of the camp members. He would be helpless to do anything. He would be killed were he to try. He needed to protect them with his life from such fate.

 

Grim stared at the ceiling of his tent. His hair was undone and loose, and some of his hair covered his eyes in thought. If he could run away with Miguel to an island where only they existed, they could live happily ever after, living off the island's resources and learning to survive. No Gloom. No Infected. No war. No nothing. That would be ideal.

Outside, as the pouring rain let up slightly, Grim could hear thick footsteps going in circles around his tent. Miguel only continued on in his running, thinking his older brother was fast asleep, and therefore not noticing the empty space in the tent. The rain slowly felt almost as if there were needles falling out of the sky. He began to breathe heavily from exhaustion, but that only led him to run faster. The paint on his face had already been washed off from the rain; the only thing that was left was the faded stains of the black and white markings that was on Miguel's face.

Grim heard the footsteps and quickly sat up. Who the hell was running at this hour?! It was RAINING too. Grim opened his tent slightly before taking a peek at the tent next to him, Miguel's tent. He wasn't there. "What the-?!" Grim paused, eventually his sleepy mind putting two and two together. He didn't even mind fixing his hair in his usual braid, stepping outside of his tent into the rain and listening to the running steps. He quickly followed the noise and to his annoyance, found his suspicions to be true. Miguel was running laps around the camp in the middle of the night and in the rain. "What the hell is he thinking?!" Grim hissed to himself. He would catch a cold! Instead of chasing after him, he hid behind one of the stacks of boxes, and just as Miguel ran by, he extended his leg to trip the boy into the mud.

Just as Grim intended, Miguel did in fact, fall face first right into the mud with a loud thud and a loud 'oomph!' He forced himself to sit up and looked at the person who tripped him. The front of his body was completely covered in mud.

"Why did you do that- h-hermano!" Miguel said in fright. He quickly got up and went to run again, not from training but from Grim. He didn't want Grim to see him like that. But sadly, Miguel's body couldn't take anymore running, and he collapsed only a few steps away from his brother with a groan. He clenched his fists on the ground.

"...Mierda."

Grim could not believe this. He was running away from him? As if he could accomplish such task without Grim catching up eventually. Luckily he tripped, his body giving in. He wouldn't have to give chase. He carefully walked over to Miguel, his bare feet splashing on the mud as the rain didn't seize. His damp hair barely covered his eyes, the red shade in them standing out. "...why?" Grim said, before pulling Miguel and turning him around to face him. Grim sat on him to keep him from running away as his eyes glared at Miguel in annoyance. "Why the hell would you be running around in the middle of the night like that?!" Grim hissed, shaking him around before slamming his back against the mud once more, covering his hair. The tips of Grim's hair were starting to get muddy as he knelt down to glare at Miguel, who he had yet to let go of. "You can get sick! Have you any idea how dangerous that is?! If you get any kind of sickness and we don't have the medicine for it you can DIE! Have you any idea what would happen next?! Food being scarce as it is?!" Grim breathed.

Miguel started at Grim with his eyes wide. He never seen such emotions from Grim directed at him before. His usually tanned skin was almost as pale as Grim. He let Grim shake him for a while, and while he was doing this tears began to go down his face but he said nothing. After Grim yelled at him Miguel dared to open his mouth to speak. At first he couldn't get a word out. In the second attempt his voice cracked. He was trembling beneath Grim's hold.

"I-I-" he suddenly cried out. "I w-wanted to be strong like you a-and- Papa! I-I wanted to be your b-brother! I w-wanted to be WORTHY to be your b-brother! I wa-ant to be a-apart of the family..." His voice quieted down into a whisper.

Grim stared down at Miguel in disbelief. "...what do you mean want to be...don't you realize you already are...?" Grim blinked a few times before he raised a hand as if about to punch Miguel, but instead ended up lowering his fist slowly before slamming it right besides Miguel's face, mud splashing. "Why...why are you being so f*cking difficult?!" Grim asked, warm drops of water falling on Miguel as they weren't rain drops, but tear drops. Grim glared at him with anger. "You're family! You've always been ever since we brought you into our group! We've shared beds! Dad has told us bedtime stories! Why is it so difficult for you to realize no matter if you're weak or strong, dead or alive, near or far...you're my family, Miguel. Why do you think we work so hard to protect you!"

Miguel didn't say anything at this. Instead he just hiccuped and tried his best to see through the tears that was making it harder to see. When Grim raised his hand he went stiff and closed his eyes tight, however when Grim slammed it into the mud Miguel's body shook, and he slowly opened his eyes. For the next few moments he kept breathing shaky uneven breaths. His skin was cold to the toutch however Miguel felt very hot and had a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Before he had always thought that his weakness separated him from Grim and Death. But could it been the weakness that brought them close in the first place?

"I-... I want to protect... You too..." Miguel said in between hiccups. "Because te quiero... I-I love you..."

Grim loosened his grip, sighing to himself. By now he was soaked and covered in mud. He felt icky and he knew once his father found out he would have them sit naked under a waterfall for two hours at the moment of dawn. Miguel would be forced to sit down too. “…I love you too, bro.” Grim finally said as he stepped off and pulled Miguel up from the mud, pulling him into a hug. “Stupid, stupid Miguel. Don’t ever doubt it. We love you. We love you very much and always will.” Grim said as he smiled a bit. “From now on don’t question our love for you. You’re part of our family and that’s that.”

Miguel shuttered when Grim pulled him up. But once he gave Miguel a hug, Miguel felt much better and very comforted. He wrapped his arms around Grim's waist and closed his eyes. He felt exhausted.

"I love you too..." He muttered with a smile. The rain finally let up somewhat, although it was still bad all the same. Miguel began to shiver finally feeling the coldness of the rain. Hopefully by just standing in the rain they'll get a little clean off of the mud.

"Can I sleep in the tent with you? I'm tired..."

“Yeah, why not.” Grim said as he picked up Miguel and walked back into the tent. It felt nice inside the tent. It was warm compared to the dampness of outside. Grim laid Miguel down and quickly covered him up with as many blankets as he could. He could feel his hair starting to tangle slightly, the mud starting to dry against his skin. It would itch later. “Sleep alright? We most likely have another long day later today.” Grim said as he rested right next to Miguel, moving some of his damp hair away from his face. He loved his sibling. He didn’t felt that it was a good idea for Miguel to join the group in the beginning, but now he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Miguel wrapped an arm around Grim as he later. He was so exhausted from everything that he didn't even care if he was dirty from the mud.

"Papa is going to be so mad later..." He whined. He hugged Grim tightly, now having no doubts that he was definitely apart of the family. And maybe Miguel really was strong. Strong in his own way. It's because of Grim why he always wants to better himself; He looked up to him.

"Goodnight Guada... I love you." He muttered.