(This is a short little writing thing I'm writing for practice so my future fanfiction can have Grelle be in character and and well developed for my AU, as much, criticism is allowed)
Ah yes, the average gloomy Tuesday work hours. The sun had finally past the horizon across the west and left but the faint light of night owls in their home in the mucky human world. There was a slight drizzle in the air, indicating it would soon begin to rain. The person on the roof loomed over the human children out past their curfew. The Crimson hair on the looming figure only had a few drizzle drops amongst the strawberry scented locks she had. Nobody noticed she was there, but she definitely saw things going on others did not... On one of the children's faces was a small red mark, possibly from a cigar burn inflicted on the innocent child's baby face by an adult smoker. Of course, she would see that in the man's record, since the parent of that child was meant to die in mere minutes...
The red haired reaper looked down at her book for a moment to check if she was in front of the correct person's home. After affirming this, she nodded to herself.
"Harold Fitzgerald... yes."
The voice of the Reaper said so plainly, as if this was just another client. But her thoughts were interrupted when the ball the children were playing with was thrown up into their air, landing on the roof where it could not be retrieved. The woman looked to the side at said ball, getting distracted for a moment. She didn't suspect that the children below could even see her given the ability of grim reapers to simply not appear to the naked human eye. But oddly enough, the child with a burn mark called out to her. "Oi! Big man on the roof! Could you pass us the ball?!"
The woman, who didn't seem to care about the child referring to her as a man, simply glanced down at the children. The other two children looked at the kid like he was crazy. "What man?" Said one of the other boys.
The little Fitzgerald boy seemed confused, as indicated by his voice when he said
"The redhead, you don't see-" but suddenly, the child could no longer see the Reaper on the roof. Bewildered, the kid sighed. "Nevermind... let's go play something else."
But in the perspective of the kid, the ball seemingly flung itself a few blocks away in a mere flash. The kids smiled and playfully nudged their friend. "Did you see God up there or something?" Said a friend jokingly as the other two kids ran after the ball. The child who saw Grelle looked up again and still saw nothing, but he smiled and said. "Thank you, God." With a cute smile before running off after his friends.
With the children a ways away, they won't have to see the life leave mister Fitzgerald's eyes. The redhead clicked her tongue and jumped down from the roof slowly entering the abode of the family. Upon walking in, she saw the husband beating his wife in anger. Until the wife scurried to the counter to grab a knife, and stabbed the man 12 times in the chest as Grelle watched with a grin as man and wife were covered head to toe in blood. Harold fell to the floor, dead.
As the woman standing over him realized what she had done, she gasped as tears welled up in her eyes. "H-Harold, I-"
But she was cut off by the voice of a person saying "Ara ara~" in the very same room, a witness to her murder.
The Reaper standing there clicked her tongue three times only to simply walk past the blood stained wife and slice into the corpse with her scythe and watch the record. She saw every sin he had committed. "Mmmm~ Good for you, beginning the journey in a pure white gown, ending your love affair stained the most beautiful red. You are a black widow indeed."
The woman gasped upon hearing these words with clear tears streaming down her face. "I-I didn't mean it!!" She shouted frantically sobbing.
"Tch..." was what left the reaper's mouth next, before she rolled her eyes before starting to walk away. "I'll leave you to your fate since you've shown your weakness after the fact."
And with that, Grelle was away from the scene of the crime.
The woman stayed behind with her sins crawling on her back, as she looked down at the ground weeping. At least she was looking in the right direction, the direction of her husband's soul, in hell, where it could not be retrieved by her. She knew what she had done...
And Grelle was left to continue her work, disappointed in the sheer lack of interesting people.