The day was dark and gloomy as rain fell in thick waves over the small quiet little town of San Vivida, Mexico. As the rain was falling, many of the quiet friendly villagers hid in their small homes spending time with their families telling stories and the like. However not all was peaceful; at the edge of the village where the rich farmland laid, a short middle aged man ran as much as he could despite his disability in his leg while he carried a small baby in his arms. He had found the newborn abandoned in the forest and as a kind nurturing man he wouldn't dare leave a baby to die. The best thing he could possibly do was bring the baby to the most respected man in the village; Death. Despite the name, everyone in the village looked up to Death. Many told stories to the children that Death came from a distant magical land, with teachings and magical potions that helped heal the village especially during the times of plague. No matter if it was true or not, all of the village was grateful to him. With the newborn wrapped in cloth and held tightly in his arms, the man known as Jorge knocked quickly on Death's door. He was soaked to the bone, and his cane that he relied on to walk was long discarded back in his hut. As a lonely man, Jorge's only solace was having conversations with Death as well as practicing his love of carving into wood. Often he would carve small toys for children and fashion small furniture for the locals from scraps of wood he would purchase from merchants. With a shiver and a grunt, Jorge held the quiet baby close to his chest. As he was waiting he prayed that the silence didn't mean the baby wasn't alive.

"Por favor, dios mio..." He whispered to himself.

Miguel smiled when he came across Santiago. He loved the kid and considered him as a good friend. After all, Santiago was always kind to him when everyone else was not.

"Hola Santa~!" Miguel joked, using the nickname he had for Santiago. "And who cares if I'm caught? I'll just go back and do it again anyway~! And besides, these berries always go to waste." With that, Miguel knelt down in front of a bush and began to pick a bunch of berries from it. He lifted up his shirt a little bit to carry them like it was a pouch. "Want some?"

 

Santiago shook his head. “I’m good. Thanks.” Santiago said. He watched the jar fill up with the tree sap and he quickly twisted the lid on it to keep it safe. Just then he felt something hit his head. “Ow!” Santiago whined, rubbing the back of his head, and turned only to see the local bullies at it again. “Look, the two freaks are together.” One of them joked. Santiago stuck out his tongue at them. “Go away. We aren’t doing anything wrong!” Santiago yelled, walking over to Miguel’s side. “But what if the bruja catches you taking her berries?” The kid insisted, gaining Santiago’s attention. “B-Bruja?” “Yeah.” The kid pointed down the forest path. “They say that the bruja lives right down that path in the forest! At night she catches kids who eat their berries and turns them into frogs!” “That’s nonsense!” “Really, I’m telling the truth! You can still see the house over there if you go…but then again, you most likely wouldn’t go, because you two are gallinas, chickens, baw baw baw~” The kid teased.

Miguel stood up proudly and went protectively in front of Santiago. Miguel getting bullied was one thing. But his friends getting bullied was a completely different story.

"Hey, leave my Santa alone!" Miguel shouted, even dating to grab a rock and throw it back. "And we're not chicken! I'll show you! We'll go to la bruja's house and back." With that, Miguel huffed and began to drag Santiago right towards where the kid said the house would be. Already it was getting dark, but Miguel didn't care. He was going to make the bully eat those words. "Come on Santa." Miguel uttered. "We'll show him!"

Santiago didn't had much time to complain. Before he knew it Miguel was dragging him along on the misadventure towards the Witch's house. Not something he expected. Yet Miguel wasn't one to back down to prove a point either. "Miguel, I don't think this is a good idea! I don't think he means it, anyways!" Santiago insisted. The deeper they went down the path the creepier it got. The trees stretched out far into the sky, their branches and leaves covering the sky and barely letting any sunlight to shine through. It was scary enough in the day. Now as the sun was beginning to retreat only made it worse. "Miguel-!" Santiago whispered, holding onto Miguel's shirt for dear life. Just then, they came across it. The Witch's property. It was a small cabin structure, old and covered here and there with overgrown wildlife, the wood old and the door barely hanging onto its hinges. A small fence separating what would have been a garden currently in pieces as whatever plants were grown there were now buried beneath wild flowers or eaten away by animals. The whole place...just felt off. Not even working in the morgue was this creepy. "I-It's her house!" Santiago whispered as he hid behind Miguel. "Miguel we have to go back what of she EATS US?!"

Miguel was very eager to get to the witch's house. Maybe even excited. He always loved accepting challenges from others, and always loved rubbing into everyone's faces when he proved them wrong. Not only did he want to look at the Witch's house, but he also wanted to go inside.

"Stop freaking out!" Miguel complained, looking down at Santiago suffocating the hell out of his shirt.

"If una bruja comes out, I'll make her go away! She won't ever bother us again." Miguel claimed. He was about to head inside that is, until he heard some voices.

"Well if it isn't the marichòn..." Came one of the men from the village. Our from the trees emerged some men, circling around Miguel and Santiago. They carried torches to illuminate the dark shadows from the evening, as well as knives and machetes.

"What a surprise to see you out here..." Another said sarcastically. One man's face softened upon seeing Santiago.

"Santiago, go back to your dad. You shouldn't be with that bastard."

Santiago whined at Miguel. Surely Miguel was the bravest kid out of the whole village. Both a good thing and a bad thing to have. "If you try to fight the witch the most I can do is throw rocks at her." Santiago hummed. Just then a few men from the village began to surround them. One of them asking for him to return home, as it wasn't good for him to hang out with a bastard. That word sounded so foreign yet confusing for Santiago. He always heard people call Miguel that and when asked his dad told him it was a bad thing to say. Why would they call Miguel that? He was brash but he was kind too. Regardless the feeling he got from the whole situation sent shivers down his spine, causing him to only hold onto Miguel tighter. "Um," Santiago murmured, his dark pastel green eyes never leaving sight of the sharp weapons. "I-I have to stay with Miguel. D-Daddy invitee him for dinner..." Santiago lied. He didn't wanted to leave Miguel, or even let go of him. He was afraid to. "Right Miguel? We should get going if we don't want to be late."

The men came even closer to the two children. They did not look happy at all. They were ready to strike at any moment,

"He could come to your dinner another time..." One growled, rather impatiently as he clutched the handle of his machete tightly.

"Just go home Santiago..." Another came. "You really don't want to see this..." With that, he reached for Miguel and Santiago.

Miguel meanwhile, was standing protectively in front of Santiago. Honestly he didn't even care what happened him. He worried more about Santiago.

"Santa..." Miguel whispered into Santiago's ear. "On the count of three.... Run. Rapido." He looked around the circle of men and quietly counted to Santiago.

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three!" As soon as the second man reached out; Miguel quickly pushed Santiago forward and out from the group.

"Go!" Miguel yelled, backing away and trying to hold the back. "Run! I'll be okay!"

Another man growled and turned to Santiago. He went to grab him. "Looks like we're going to have to shut you up..." He hissed.

Santiago didn't want to leave Miguel. When he was pushed to run, for a second he hesitated, but the look on the men's faces were almost inhuman, a coldness in them that sent shivers down his spine. That's when he knew he had to run. He had to get help. He ran as fast as his feet could take him. He could barely see in the darkness, avoiding trees and roots as he ran and never looked up, thinking he would be caught at any second. "Help!" Santiago screamed. "Ayuda! Ayuda! Asesinó! Asesinó! They're going to kill us!" Santiago screamed, ever hoping someone, anyone would hear him. That anyone would help them. "Auxilió!!!!"

Miguel watched as Santiago ran, happy that he was able to escape. Some of the men were about to run after the boy, but the leader told them not to.

"Leave the kid... We have some unfinished business to deal with..." The leader uttered, moving forward towards Miguel. Miguel backed away, unsure of what to do. Usually he'd just fight, but there were a ton of guys around him and they all just had weapons. Plus, he didn't know if he should fight grown ups. Miguel looked around and suddenly bolted for it. A man grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him down, but Miguel kicked him and ran. He didn't know where Santiago went, but Miguel ran for the closest place he knew; his house. Almost immediately he was there, banging on Death's door. "Papa!!!" Miguel called. "Papa!!!"

Meanwhile, as Santiago ran, the horned man leaned on a tree nearby watching. He sighed softly as he watched the boy run. Never has he ever seen a boy run so fast before.

"He's not going to die..." The young man said, not really knowing if Santiago would hear him or not.

 

Immediately Death opened the door, watching Miguel run in and right into his arms. “Miguel,” Death wrapped his arms around him protectively, Megara and Grim hurrying over to see him as well. “Miguel what’s wrong? Your knees are scraped.” Death said as he knelt down and rubbed Miguel’s cheeks. Megara quickly knelt down and began to check up on her son. Death glanced up, maybe expecting the local boys teasing and bothering Miguel again. Instead he saw the light of torches from grown men, sharp weapons in their hands. The realization what almost happened was instant. “Hijos de la gran…” Death hissed, standing up as he stood in front of Miguel, Megara quickly wrapping her arms protectively around him. “Miguel they didn’t hurt you did they?” Megara asked. Grim watched from behind Death. For once the men of the village seemed…scary. “Papi?” Grim asked. Death’s glare never wavered as he moved his hand up the rosary around his neck, slowly taking it off as his hands remained on the cross, the thumb waving over the gem in the middle of it. “You call yourself men and yet you aim at a child.” Death hissed, gripping the cross tightly. Then-

 

“What is going here?” An unfamiliar voice spoke. From right behind the men a large figure stood. If Death was tall at 170cm (5 feet & 7 inches), this man was taller, around 183 cm (6 feet) to be exact. He had long gray hair tied up in a ponytail. He was around his late 50s or early 60s. He had scars here and there, one of his eyes colored hazel while the other was fully white, a scar running over it. He wore a large hat and a trench coat, a cigarette in his mouth as he smiled uneasily down at the men. Worse; he had the biggest axe that anyone had ever seen strapped on his back. Death glared even more. “What the hell are you doing here?” “Just happened to be around.” The man said as he walked around the village men curiously. “Now as for you men…what are you doing messing around with my grandson?”

 

Miguel was shaking slightly in Death's arms. He was rather shaken up not only from the men, but from them threatening Santiago.

"Santa!" Miguel cried. "They were going to hurt Santa! I don't know where he is..." He heard a strange voice, and turned to see a very /very/ tall man he never saw before. Did that man call him... His grandson?

"A-Abuelo...?" Miguel was going to continue, but suddenly he felt lightheaded and dizzy. He leaned against his mother for support, not knowing why he felt such a way. There was a strange wet feeling on Megara's arm. The hair on he back of Miguel's neck began to turn red.

"Mami... I don't feel good..." Miguel uttered softly. On the back of his neck, there was a deep cut from one of the men's machete. He had gotten the wound when one of the men grabbed his ankle. The pure adrenaline running through Miguel's body caused him to feel absolutely no pain whatsoever. He didn't even realize he was hurt.

The men looked up at the newcomer. Some were strong and stood their ground. Others... Not so much. A few even backed away, with one shaking in his boots before he ran away.

"Who the hell are you, marichòn?!" The leader of the band hissed, raising his machete at the elder. "I don't care what you look like or what weapon you're carrying on your back! That little cabròn is going to die today!" Another one of the men, one of the shorter ones, turned around and ran like hell away from the elder.

"Nos vamos a morir, carajò!" He yelled. (We're gonna die, f***!)

 

The moment Megara felt a warm liquid on her arm, she pulled back and shrieked, seeing the red and realizing instantly it was blood coming from Miguel. “Miguel!” Death turned, his eyes widening at Miguel’s wound. “Dios mio!” Death ignored the world around him, picking Miguel up in his arms as he took him to the sofa and had him lay down, his head on Megara’s lap. He instructed Megara to hold the wound tightly with his own scarf to stop the bleeding as he hurried around looking for materials. Alcohol, a needle and thread, and towels. His mind was currently on Miguel, anger and fear surging in his body. “You’ll be ok Miguel. Just be brave for us now!” Death insisted, cleaning up the wound. Internally he prayed for whatever god out there that would hear him. The cut was simply too perfect. Had it been deeper, higher, lower, anything else, it would’ve done damage that could’ve killed him, or done irreversible damage. Grim cried, scared for his brother as Death began to quickly check for anything damaged within the wound and sew it right up.

 

The older man felt his blood run cold as he glared at the apparent leader. He stepped to the side a bit, showing a frightened Santiago. “Hey kid. Is this the guy you told me about?” The man asked. Santiago hiccupped and rubbed his eyes. “Y-Yeah! He tried to grab me too!” He cried. The man patted Santiago’s head gently. “Go home kid. Miguel’s safe now.” He insisted. Santiago frowned and hurried home, running past the men as all he wanted to do was to be with his dad safe and sound next to the cemetery. The gentleman dropped his weapon and bag on the ground, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward. “My name is Andres, and I am a traveling Witch Doctor, and Death’s father. Now, I usually am a nice person. But considering you just cut my grandson…” Andres explained, the smoke of his cigarette surrounding him. “I hope you believe in God, cause you’re about to meet him.” Andres said before charging straight at the man. He didn’t even need his machete. He used fist and kicks alone to make sure to send the men home crying to their wives. Usually Death hated to deal with his father. But…today could be an exception.

 

Miguel didn't even know what was going on. One minute he was fine and standing up, the next he was laying on the couch with Death over him. He still didn't feel the wound on the back of his neck. All he felt was numbness and small pressure here and there. His vision was blacking out.

"Papi..." Miguel uttered softly, tiredly. "I feel sick... I can't... See... I-Is that abuelo...?" He uttered the first part very quietly and sloppily.

Meanwhile the leader was taken down pretty quickly. After a mere second of trying to block with his machete, he was already on the ground groaning and clutching his side. His lackeys behind him opened their eyes wide. They did not hesitate to flee.

 

Megara and Miguel cried in absolute worry. Death maintained his posture and continued to sew up the wound while wiping away the blood from his hands. “Yeah. It is Miguel,” Death said, his voice shaking slightly. “Your crazy grandpa came for a visit.” Death said, finishing up the stitches and tying it up. He cleaned up the blood and hummed as he rubbed Miguel’s head gently. “You’ll be alright, Miguel. Rest a little, ok?” Death purred. Megara kissed Miguel’s head and Grim held Miguel’s hand. “You’re going to be ok…” Grim sobbed. Andres growled down at the man he had just taken down, before picking up his stuff and turning away. “Touch my grandson again. I dare you. Pendejo.” Andres scoffed before hurrying inside the house and closing the door behind him. He knelt down next to Miguel and his features softened. “Hey buddy. You got pretty hurt. But it’s ok. Grandpa hurt him even worse. You’re safe now.” Andres cooed.

Miguel sniffled softly and reached out his tiny little arms for Andres once he came in. Death was right; he was tired and needed rest. But he wasn't going to give up without a fight.

"I want..." He whispered tiredly. "...To sleep with Guada and Abuelo..." He whined and fought. He still didn't even realize he was wounded in the first place. The pain didn't settle. He only felt the numbness in his neck. "I wanna sleep with Guada... And Abuelo... I wanna... I wanna..." He continue to whine.

Death wrapped bandages around Miguel's neck to keep the wound area out of any external harm. When Andres heard the request he was more than happy to oblige to his beloved grandson. "You want to nap with me? Alrighty then. Up we go." Andres said, gently picking Miguel in his arms, Megara and Death watching every move. "Dad, the neck-" "I know." Andres then grabbed Grim's hand with his free arm. "Come on. It's pretty late. Let's all sleep and count sheep." Andres cooed as he brought the boys over to their room. He kicked off his boots and laid down, Miguel laying in one side while Grim lay down in the other, Andres holding them both close. Grim was quick to fall asleep, his eyes tired from the day and the sudden stress of the moment. Though Andres would've preferred to have come over in a more peaceful time, he was glad he was around when this happened, otherwise things would've gotten pretty bad. Megara wiped away her tears as she walked over to the nearest window and began to murmur a prayer. Death rubbed his eyes and cleaned up his bloody hands. It terrified him to think that the blood belonged to Miguel. "Oh lord give me patience..." Megara began, her hands shaking as she held them together tightly. "So I don't end up murdering everyone tomorrow morning." She hissed, snapping her head to the door. "Is he still lying there? I bet I can-" "No no no no." Death insisted, picking Megara up and taking her away before she went on a killing spree. What an eventful day.

Miguel was very happy to have his grandfather take his request. Now Miguel was going to sleep with his grandfather for the first time. Once he was in bed, Miguel was almost able to fall asleep instantaneously. His grandfather was just so warm and cuddly. Miguel felt safe being with him.

"Buenas... Noc... Hes..." Miguel whispered as he fell asleep.

-Next Morning-

 

By the next day Death was kind enough to head over to the man's house first thing in the morning on his early routine, the same one Andres had beaten the crap out of last night. He helped him patch up, as the doctor he was, and apologized for his father's actions against him. But he also calmly and happily warned that if he laid a single hand on his beloved Miguel again, he wouldn't stop Megara from coming after him next. By the time the sun rose out from the mountains, Andres woke up to the first rays of sunlight. In his arms were his grandchildren, safe and sound, and he couldn't have been more happy. He had read all about Miguel in the letters Death sent him. From the moment of being found up to the point where he became part of the family, and yet all he cared was that he was safe from harm at the moment. "Hey boys, wake up, I bet you guys are pretty hungry by now." Andres cooed. "I can even finally give you the presents I brought you two."

 

In the living room the Undertaker was talking to Megara. Santiago told him everything and came in as soon as he could the next day to see if he was alright. "He should make a nice recovery. The cut didn't hit anything important." Megara explained. Undertaker sighed. "Thank goodness. To think that they would attack a child. They must have lost their minds."

Miguel whined softly as Andres began to shake him awake. He was still tired and just wanted to sleep for a while longer. Not only that, but his wound made him even more exhausted.

"Nooooo..." Miguel whined, tossing and turning a bit to try and sleep longer. "I want to sleep..." Even the word 'presents' didn't wake Miguel up which was very unusual. Whenever Death said the words 'toys' or 'presents' Miguel always instantly woke right back up.

"Poe favor...."

 

Andres frowned slightly. While Grim was already sitting up at the word ‘presents’, Miguel was still exhausted from last night, and the wound. Who wouldn’t be? “You can sleep all day if you want. But you have to eat something if you want to get big and strong. Come on.” Andres cooed, holding Miguel in his arms as he got up from bed, making sure Miguel could nap all he wanted against his shoulder, but at least he would be able to take him around to at least eat something. Grim followed closely. “Will Miguel be ok?” Grim asked. “Of course! Miguel is as tough as a bull! He’s just tired from his injury, that’s all.” Andres smiled, as he walked into the dining room with the kids. “We’re awake!...sort of. Miguel is still tired but I bet some breakfast will cheer him up!” Andres cheered. By this point Undertaker had taken his leave and gone to work, Megara being there to receive her in-law and children. “Morning. Oh my Miguel is still tired.” Megara cooed, quickly giving Miguel a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll make you that farina you like very much, how does that sound?” Megara smiled, walking back to make it. Grim licked his lips. “Farina~” He hummed. Andres held Miguel in his arms. “Oh yeah, you boys want your gifts? I brought you a whole bunch of them!” Andres chuckled. The difference between Andres and Death were just the type of doctors they were. Andres was known as a witch doctor, learning of different traditions and different ways to help people besides the medical aspect and more…supernatural means, which had him travel all around the world, while Death was strictly a scientific doctor who relied on his knowledge to create medicine for people. They were similar, but ever so different, which was the reason why they both got along and fought constantly. “I can tell you boys some of the monsters I’ve fought, too.”

Miguel didn't want to have any of it. He didn't want to see the brightness of the room, he didn't want to hear the loudness in everyone's voice. All of it was very uncharacteristic of Miguel, but he was just so damn tired from everything that happened the night before. Hell, he still felt dizzy and confused.

"No..." Miguel whined and fussed as he weakly protested against Andres. "I want to sleep... Sleep... No farina..." That was the worst words to hear. Miguel never said no to farina. Or white rice with fried eggs. To hear Miguel say no to that was the day pigs fly.

"Por favor... Papi... Mami... Abuelo..." Miguel whined and begged, looking up to Andres with pain in his eyes. "It hurts... I want to sleep..."

Andres and Megara exchanged worried glances. Grim couldn't help but to feel uneasy. Miguel was always so cheerful and happy. To see him even turn down farina was extremely worrying. He was going to get better, right? He had to, right? "Miguel...you have to eat..." Grim cooed. Megara turned to Miguel equally as worried. "You need to at least eat a bit, otherwise you won't get better." Megara insisted. Andres felt a thug in his heart. To see him in such pain only made him wish he had killed the guy. "Your mom's right. As soon as you eat I'll take you right back to bed and won't bother you much ok? But eating is important." Andres insisted. He really hoped that the injury was just that, a temporary thing that would eventually heal with time. He opened his bag with his free hand and began to take out curious items. "Here. These are for you. An elder gave them to me when I helped him fight off a sea monster off from the icy coast!" Andres spoke, taking out two necklaces with the same rune inscribed in them. Grim took one. "What's this?" "They're rune necklaces. The rune inscribed on them will keep you two close. No matter how far one goes from the other, the runes will guide you back to each other." Andres explained as he shows Miguel his. It was made out of a sturdy crystal that gleamed with the sunlight. "Here we go." Megara set down a couple plates of arina. Andres picked one up and took a spoonful. "Oh no, the sea monster has to enter the cave. Open the cave, Miguel, vroom~" Andres cooed as he tried to feed him.

Miguel was still quite fussy and defiant on eating the farina. At least Miguel still had his feistiness. When Andres presented the necklace to him, Miguel slowly opened his eyes to see. The necklace made sure he was together with Grim... With a small whine and a small whimper in pain, Miguel reached out for the necklace and held it tightly in his hand by the rune. Once Andres attempted to feed him, Miguel was still fussy at first. However after Andres' calming words Mighel actually took a small spoonful in his mouth. "..."

Andres smiled a bit. "See? Pretty good huh?" Andres asked. Grim ate his own plate while following Miguel's pace. If Miguel ate one spoonful, he ate one spoonful and so on. The door opened to reveal Death returning for a break. "Morning boys." Death hummed. Grim turned to his dad. "Papi Miguel is hurting!" Grim whimpered. "I expected as much. The adrenaline from last night was blocking all of the pain at the moment." Death explained, walking over to the medicine cabinet as he looked around for a specific bottle. "He doesn't even want to eat." Grim whined. "Well you wouldn't want to eat either if your throat hurt." Death said as he finally found what he was looking for. He picked up a small bottle and some needles and a syringe, filling it with the liquid before walking over to Miguel. "Alright. This is going to feel like a little prick. It'll numb the skin so you won't hurt as much and you can nap ok?" Death said as he pricked Miguel's shoulder, injecting the anesthetic. Grim huffed. "Grandpa is going to protect us from nightmare spirits!" "There you go not one day here and you're already telling the kids fantasy stories." "If you don't believe them its your problem."

Miguel continued to eat at a very slow pace. Luckily after a few spoons he began to eat a little bit more and more. As soon as Death approached him however, Miguel instantly began to protest.

"Nooooooo..." Miguel whined, fussing and even moving to climb on Andres' face to try and get away. Miguel did not like needles, or anything doctor related. Regular doctor related, anyway.

"Leave me aloneeeeeee... No shot..." He continued to whine and fuss, but Death injected him with the shot anyway. Miguel whimpered for a quick second, but after that be sniffled.

"Noooo....." He uttered, sniffling once more.