Music Recommendation: Ólafur Arnalds, Alice Sara Ott - Reminiscence

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When Lucas and the others had left the land of the dead, two Grim reapers appeared at the spot with the hellhounds barking in the streets and the town at the smell of a fresh soul that appeared here that was different compared to the other souls who came to either pass through the gates or to end up as a waste who roamed and lurked behind the buildings or in the forest.

The Grim cards of nine and Eleven looked at the streets to see nothing around as whatever was there, the scent had dispersed in the wind, and they were nowhere present right now. They were the gatekeepers of the land of the dead who looked after the orders that were sent down to the lower creatures of this realm.

"Do you smell something it," asked the eleventh Grim of the cards, its head looking front and back in the cloaked robes it was in.

"Appears that the Fourth Grim was missing the realm of the dead and decided to come to visit finally," cackled the ninth Grim, "We need to let them know that we had a visitor or is it, visitors."

"Let lose the hell hounds, let them search for him. If he's hiding in the land of the living, it won't take too long before one of us catch him."

The Ninth Grim was tall while the eleventh was short in height, the tall one said, "I hear Edith has gone nonresponsive too. What do you think is going on in the realm of the living, huh?"

"Who cares," came the whispered words of the other Grim. The eleventh Grim bent down to pick up a button which was on the ground, "The more punished Grims, the higher is our chance to ascend up."

And as the two Grims spoke to each other, a creature stood behind the tree not too far away from them, lurking behind who was none other than the other half of the soul of Belle who called herself as Portia. She continued to linger there, and when the hellhounds and the Grims left, she walked back to the mansion that was from the other realm which was once her home.

Portia was the mirror image of Belle as they once belonged together until the scavengers ate her soul little by little that went to pass to the realm of the dead without anyone reapers notice.

The ball of the soul turned to a split image of the girl with innocence who was lost. While Belle lived a safe, sheltered life in the land of the living, it was this other half who took the torture of running away from creatures at a very young age with no one to protect her.

The girl who lived in this side of the realm was hunted like an animal which she didn't deserve, but the dead creatures didn't care about it. All they wanted was to feed on her soul, and she ran from each and everything. Growing up all alone with no one to talk to, no love by her parents, no warmth to keep her away from the freezing cold she felt in this place.

The little one was lost, and she cried for her parents, but this only resulted in her being hunted down where she had to flee and escape. Her hands were covered in scrapes, and so was her feet. As years passed by, the loneliness slowly ate every piece of the fragment that she was once used to possess. The more a person stayed in the land of the dead, the more inhumanly mortal one stayed; losing every fibre of essence that they were made to turn to something more vile and evil.

She had tried to keep her sanity, but she was too young to handle things around her. She was afraid, afraid of the dark and shadows that often lurked around. For years she ran until she finally learned to kill the creatures that were trying to get to her.

Portia walked up the stairs of the mansion that was broken and empty. A deserted house. She picked up a ragged doll, a doll that was similar to the stuffed rabbit. Dragging it across the floor that glided and she went to her room.

Gone was the clean white dress she wore. Throwing the stuffed toy on the bed with the springs that came out from the surface of the bed, she went to stand in front of the mirror that was unclean and covered in dust. Using her hand, she swiped it so that she could look at herself to realize how hideous she looked.

She was supposed to be living in the land of the living with her parents, looking beautiful with people around her, but she looked like she belonged to one of the Mighouls. Her clothes were muddy brown and tattered as she looked at her reflection. Bringing her skeleton hands up to her face and touched the cheeks that were hollow and no eyes in her face.

"How dare you live a life better than me without concern while letting me rot here," said Portia, who had seen glimpses of what the other half of her soul was doing. Thinking about both their lives, Portia picked up the chair that was behind her and she thew it against the mirror in rage to have the glasses break into pieces, leaving only a few pieces up and intact.

Portia moved back, dropping the chair as if she didn't know what just happened. Her head and body moving in jerks before she came to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I-I will rob you," uttered Portia, her head slowly moved back and forth, "I will rob everything from you and take your place, Belle for leaving me here all alone and not looking for me. I will take your life and you shall take mine to understand how I felt all these years," she whispered to herself.