Chapter 4: Paint It, Black!

Morrigan's eyes winked open as sunlight found its way through her window and to her face. She sat up as she looked around her room, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Everything looked normal; her sewing machine was in the back corner where it usually sat, her clothing that she had passionately collected and altered over the years hung in the closet or stacked in piles.

Everything was clean, cleaner than the rest of the house anyway, because she refused to pick up after her mother. Her head felt fuzzy but that was about the only thing wrong. She looked down, now changed into a black tanktop and black shorts. No blood. Of course, she had only been stabbed in her dream. That was not real.

She shook her head. "Yeah, if the grim reaper was real he would not act anything like that guy."

She stood up and stretched, then started walking for the door. She needed to use the bathroom. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror through the corner of her eye then froze.

Wait…. Black…

She looked down again and grabbed the hem of the tanktop, pulling it away from herself.

I don't own a black tank top and-

She turned to look at herself in the mirror and screamed, jumping back against the wall.

Her blonde hair was completely white, her aquatic blue eyes now red! Her skin, her face, her hands, her stomach, her legs—completely white!

"Morrigan? Hey, you home?" her mom called as she came up the stairs. "I heard a scream, what's going on?"

Morrigan saw the doorknob turn and instantly pushed her back against the door to keep it closed. "E-everything's alright, ma! Sorry I stayed out late! And uh—y-yeah I'm fine!" She flicked the lock on the handle. She could not be seen like this! She had no way of explaining it!

"What was that scream about? Why is your door locked?" her mom asked, still trying the handle.

"Uh, well, first of all, I'm getting changed!" Morrigan spat at her, not an uncommon tone to take with her mother. "And second, I just saw a spider and I—" Her eyes set on Noir, sitting on his haunches in the middle of her room. "—AAAAAAH!"

"Morrigan!?"

"Frikken spiders mom! Damn it! I told you, you need to hire a damn exterminator!"

She heard her mom click her teeth and could just imagine her standing with her arms folded. "I hope you know I almost called the police last night. What the hell is wrong with you? Disappearing and not even giving me a call? Where were you?"

"I was at a friend's house! Maybe I wanted to stay somewhere other than this dump for a change! Now leave me alone!"

"Enough of that attitude. I'm the one paying the bills around here, so how about a little less complaining and a little more respect? Whatever, I'm going back to sleep. Keep it down, it's too early."

Morrigan paid her no mind and instead hissed at Noir, "What are you doing here!?"

"It is not by choice. Master has ordered me to act as your guide. There is much you must learn about your new role as a reaper."

"What's wrong with my skin!? And my hair!?"

"Surely you have at least some awareness of human mythology and their many takes on the bringers of death? Have you ever seen them characterized with colorful clothing? It is no coincidence that completely disconnected cultures throughout history have agreed on this particular detail."

"Bringer of death?" she looked at herself in the mirror, her hand shaking as she touched her own white cheek. It felt cold.

"Harvester of souls, more typically, but on occasion, yes, you may be required to take the lives of—"

"How am I supposed to go around looking like this!?"

"Is vanity truly your greatest concern at this moment?"

Morrigan ignored him and went over to her closet. She leafed through her outfits, trying to find something light but with long sleeves. She just needed to get to the store without turning too many faces and then buy some makeup, hair dye, and some colored contact lenses.

She found a long sleeve shirt made out of a light fabric with a nice flower design with lots of blues and light greens. Normally it would go with a skirt but she opted for something else. She put on a pair of jeans and pulled the shirt over her head. Next she put on a sunhat to help hide her face.

"Okay, this should be—" she looked at herself in the mirror. The pants were black, the flower design on her shirt black, white and gray, and even the hat which was woven with straw turned black. "You've got to be kidding me…"

Noir himself looked quite smug. "You do have more fashion sense than my master, I suppose. He had become obsessed with cloaks several millennia ago."

Morrigan sighed in frustration. She walked past the cat, snatched her purse off her nightstand then walked to the door. She stopped and looked down at the designer purse she had once picked out of a dumpster. She had spent weeks putting it back together and getting the smell out, but, like the clothing which she had so much pride in, it had also turned black.

"You've got to be kidding me! My bag too!?"

"Where are you going?" Noir asked.

"To buy some contacts and makeup. Guess I'm going goth now, but I can at least keep myself looking human."

"Morrigan, before you go anywhere there are some things I must teach you. Please wait a moment and—" Morrigan ignored him and walked out the door.

Her mom was already fast asleep on the couch, so Morrigan carefully tip-toed past her, careful not to knock over the beer bottles that littered the floor. She had gotten very good at tip-toeing past such obstacles as she had practiced on a daily basis throughout her entire life.

***

She arrived at the mall just as the stores were opening. Since it was a weekday, and so early, there wasn't much chance of anyone recognizing her. Actually, she doubted anyone who knew her would recognize her anyway. If someone from school did spot her she could just play dumb.

Morrigan? Oh no, my name is Susy. My skin? Oh yes, I'm albino. Does this Morrigan really look that much like me? Haha, well that's a first!

She was good at acting, so she could probably pull it off.

After only twenty minutes of shopping she had everything she needed. At the register she tilted her sun hat over her eyes, the cashier giving her a strange look as he rang her up. She used her fraudulent credit card to complete the purchase, then quickly said, "Thank you," and hurried out of the store.

She went down the street to a gas station so she could use a bathroom with a lock on it. Once inside, she placed her vials of makeup along the sink then took out the box with the colored contacts. She figured she should do the contacts first, since she didn't want to accidentally get makeup on them and end up burning her eyes.

Once they were in she saw she at least looked semi-human again. "Alright, blue eyes." She sighed with relief, tying her hair into a ponytail as she examined her face.

It was going to be expensive to cake her entire face with makeup every day, and she didn't want to think of how bad the acne would be, but she didn't have any other choice right now. She started with the foundation, gently stroking her cheek with the spongy brush. It seemed to be working, her pale cheeks slowly getting some more natural color to them.

"Yes, that's it," she breathed with relief, then glanced down to apply more to the brush. When her eyes came back to the mirror, she froze.

The soft skintone was slowly starting to lose its vibrancy. "No… no! Don't do that!" She quickly brushed over it, but the color only faded faster, leaving ugly grey streaks on her otherwise white cheekbones.

"No! No! No!" She desperately continued her effort only to make it look worse and worse until she threw the open container to the side.

She tried more colors and products but everything she did was the same. As soon as she put anything on it would hold its color for only a few seconds before fading to gray.

Her hands began to shake, looking at herself in the mirror, the makeup sloppily applied with unorganized streaks. She stared at herself as a muddy tear rolled down her cheek, leaving an even uglier streak of gray all the way down to her chin.

"Damn it!" she screamed, lashing her arm over the sink, knocking the various bottles of makeup across the bathroom.

"Why! Why is this happening!?"

She wetted a paper towel and cleaned her face, her breaths quick and shallow as she tried to pull herself together.

She had always put so much effort into making herself beautiful. She was born into a situation where she could not afford nice clothes, expensive purses, jewelry, or even a cell phone. She didn't have a home that she could feel comfortable inviting friends over, or parents who looked out for her. Her mom kept a roof over their heads, sure, but she was a stripper. When asked about her parents Morrigan always had to lie.

Despite all of that, she put a decent life together for herself. Even though in reality she was so different from other students, she had gotten herself into a position where she fit in. She had friends, boys wanted to date her, and she even accepted a couple times, even if she never let the relationships go too far.

Now, none of that mattered. She might as well go back to being a nobody, a social outcast. Even worse, now she was a freak.

She hurried out of the gas station, feeling the world closing in around her. Like there was a tight fist clenching the inside of her chest. She found an alleyway between two department stores, sat down behind a box with her arms forming a circle over her knees and let her tears fall between her legs.

This isn't fair! This is so unfair!

She thought back to the graveyard. If she had just minded her own business none of this would be happening. She wouldn't have died, she wouldn't have had to sign that contract, and she wouldn't have been turned into a monster.

Replaying that day in her head, her tears eventually subsided. No, she couldn't have just walked away and left that boy at the mercy of those psychopaths. She would have felt too guilty if she did that. Maybe what she should have done is just yelled that she was calling the police and ran, instead of waiting for them to come after her. With a little more of a head start, she probably could have gotten away.

It was pointless to think about now. Whats done is done, and she would have to deal with it. This nightmare was going to be constantly present in her life. She did not even start with her new job as a reaper yet. Who knew what kinds of horrors awaited her there?

"Merrrrrooowww."

She looked up when she heard a stressed meow echo from down the alley. She searched amongst scattered boxes, leftover construction wood, and garbage.

"Merrrrrooowww."

Finally she spotted it, laying low amongst the boxes, two eyes stared back at her. It was a stray, the poor condition of its fur made that obvious, but under the matted fur, dirt and grime, she could see it had a lovely shade of orange. Once cleaned up, that cat would probably be a cutie.

Morrigan wiped her cheek on her sleeve. "Why, hello there," she said in a soft tone.

The cat looked around as if it was confused about something. That's when she noticed it had a scar over its eye. Maybe it needed help? She stood up and it instantly retreated into hiding.

"Hey, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," she said, walking closer.

As she approached, it poked its head back out just enough so that she could see one glowing eye in the darkness between the boxes. It seemed whatever gave it that scar also blinded its eye. "I'm sorry I scared you," she said, kneeling in front of the hiding place, flicking her fingers together to try to get its interest enough to come out. "Look, see? I won't hurt y—wait… what the hell?" her words trailed off.

It was transparent, just ever so slightly, and as it came out a little further she at first thought she was seeing things, but there was a pair of ghostly wings growing out of its back. They even had feathers, just like an angel's wings.

"No… way…"