She cried. She wept. It wasn't the man she cried over. No, it was someone else.

 

The woman fell to the floor; her veil flew behind her. The sadness she had built up finally released. All the lies, torture, sadness, etc. All of it. She couldn’t hold it in anymore.

 

The man, named Grim, stood above the woman’s husband. He was abusive, a narcissist, a liar, and a cheater to the woman, and Grim knew.

 

You see, there was a catch to Grim’s name. He wasn’t called “Grim” for no reason. He was called “Grim” because of his tall figure, his dark, vile face, and his dark, long, torn cloak. Grim was the Grim Reaper. 

 

He held out his scythe to the man who writhed on the floor. The husband shook, jittered, and bounced. 

 

A bright light shown from the husband's face and it made its way to Grim’s scythe. The light was a mix of blue and white. It was like a mist.

 

The woman cried. How could she not weep? The man was in agonizing pain. But she wasn't crying over that.

 

It wasn’t her husband she cried over; it was Grim. The woman was in love with the Grim Reaper and this was the final time she would be able to see him until her time came.

 

When the husband stopped jittering, Grim turned to the woman. He wasn’t done reaping for tonight. But it pained him to leave her.