It was with a certain wistful dread that the Reaper approached the front door of the old brownstone. It had been so long...but it felt like only yesterday all the same. Reaching out a gloved hand, he shut his eyes, testing the handle -
But sure enough, it didn't open. It was locked.
This wasn't Grell's home anymore.
This is a little nod to my Grell origin fic I'm writing - it's called "Colorless," and for now, it's only up on my Livejournal. I've got five parts up so far - if you're interested in the story, you can find it at my LJ. It starts here - [link]
If there's enough interest, I'll crosspost it here on DevArt, too. ^^
Written blurb/"Colorless" by
Grell/Kuroshitsuji are (c) their respective creators.