Death walked around, a look of utter confusion frozen onto her face. She approached a four-way intersection and stopped and looked down the intersecting street. All the houses looked unique, but as she stared at them they all seemed to blend together. Just house after house after house. Death sighed angrily and kicked herself mentally. She should have known. A small Virginian suburb like this, no matter how quaint looking, would not be easy to navigate.

She continued to walk down the street but soon was stopped by a short blonde woman with a creepy smile. "Isn't that a little too much black for a day like today?" She said as she tilted her head back and forth. Her smile dropped, and her eyes widened as her once happy expression turned to one of pure shock. "Ohhh. Did someone..." She leaned in close and it took all of Death's willpower not to move away, disgusted by her proximity, "Die?" she whispered.

"Uh yeah, a lot of people. Every day, in fact. Bye." Death conjured a pair of sunglasses, and casually put them on as she walked away. She ignored the lady as she whispered behind her, "Where did those glasses come from?".

Death continued to walk until she came to a large amber-colored house. It had white windows with corresponding shutters, and hedges along the perimeter of its massive front yard. She made her way to the front door but hesitated before knocking. She looked around the neighborhood, and she could sense that, although they didn't act like it, people watched her intently. She knocked anyway, unconcerned of the audience, and the door opened to reveal a woman. Her clothes appeared to be falling off her small frame, her makeup smeared. She was missing a high heel and looked utterly exhausted. She was the definition of a rough night. The woman didn't say anything, didn't take a moment to look Death in the eye, before she walked past her like a zombie.

Death watched the woman walk away from the house before she took a deep breath and turned around slowly. She looked through the open door, and only one thought was clear to her. She absolutely did not want to go in. Death interlocked her fingers together and, after another deep breath, stepped through the doorway. The place reeked of booze, and it was covered in under clothing.

"You're a dog, and I am leaving!" screamed a young woman, her straight blonde hair an absolute mess. She was in her underwear.

"You'll be back, dollface." A man laughed from the room she came from. The woman turned back to face him and let out a guttural scream before she whipped back around to storm out.

Before she passed by Death, however, she stopped to look her in the eye. "I don't know what you want with that..." Her whole body shuddered. "Ass! But just… Be careful. He only cares about himself no matter how hard…" Her eyes teared up, but she didn't break eye contact. "No matter who it is." With that, she was gone.

Death looked down the hallway into the room. Her shoulders tensed, and she ground her teeth roughly together to keep herself from speaking out loud. Damn Incubi, she thought to herself. She forced herself to relax before she slowly strolled into the vast room. It was painted red with black trim and had huge curtains on the windows. A man was laid out on a sofa, a blanket barely covered him. He ate grapes from a white platter as he twirled a glass of wine in his other hand. His dark skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, but his red hair looked perfect, draped around the addax horns that protruded from his forehead. His bright yellow eyes bore into Death as he stared at her.

"Ohhhh." He smiled widely at Death. "I'd get up, but…" He smirked and laughed a little while taking a drink from his glass. "Unless that's why you're here?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Absolutely not." Death started viciously before she forced herself to relax. "How do you get humans to ignore the horns?" She asked in a stern tone as she changed the subject. He didn't say anything as he swirled around his wine glass some more. Death nodded slowly. She clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. "Good to know." She muttered and rolled her eyes.

"This is a surprise. What do I owe for the pleasure of your company?" He asked dramatically.

"I came to simply request some of your time." Death said carefully as she examined the room.

"And I respectfully decline," he replied. He took a drink from his glass as he waved his hand at her, dismissively.

"Victor," Death said sternly, "This is not optional. You owe me."

"Send me back to your place, then. I am getting rather tired of these housewives." He smirked. Death took a breath and locked eyes with Victor. He spat up his wine and coughed roughly. The veins that ran up his temples stood out abnormally on his pale face, and his eyes became bloodshot. He scratched furiously at his throat until Death finally released him from her gaze. "O-okay. You've made your point. I'll do whatever you want." he said as he gasped for air.

"Good," she said, satisfied. "I'll get to the point then. You're going to be a teacher at a school Lorelei and I have started. You start soon, I'll give you more information when I get it myself." Death started to walk out of the room, but when she heard him groan she turned around slowly. "Oh, you should probably know. Dean and Danza have been picked to be our guinea pigs. Looks like you'll be getting to know your children."

Victor's expression switched from annoyance to utter shock within seconds. He glanced around the room nervously, avoiding eye contact with Death. "What!?" he shouted out, struggling to stand while remaining decent. "You know that-"

"I know plenty!" Death's voice echoed in the room. Her form melted into the surroundings. It covered the room in cold darkness. Victor began to sweat and tremble as his eyes swept the room. He wasn’t sure where to look. "Your... ‘community’," her voice grew mocking, "is a disgust. Abandoning your children at birth? Not even I would do something so cruel. Your race has committed many, many atrocities since the beginning of your existence. This is among the worst."

Suddenly, the darkness came together and lunged toward Victor. He couldn't help but let out a terrified scream, but it stopped a hair away from his face, solidifying into a skull. "You will correct this mistake. I will no longer allow succubi and incubi to abandon their children. My reapers are not responsible for them." The shadow pulled away, and Death reformed into her human body once more.

"You expect us to live like… What? Like happy little families?" he asked, incredulously, but shrank back when she turned to look in his direction. "Incubi and succubi hate each other. They always have."

"I expect parents to be parents." Death replied. "There is no more room for arguments or questions. You will do this." Victor glared at her, but Death just smirked, then vanished from the room with a snap of her fingers.

Victor sat on the sofa as he looked around his place. He rubbed his face and sighed heavily as he stood up. He pulled on a pair of pants before he began to walk. He staggered a few steps, grabbed a vase on his way by, and looked at it longingly. Then, he threw it against the wall, where it shattered into a million pieces. He made his way into the bathroom and stopped at the sink. He took a moment to splash some water onto his face before he looked up at his reflection and stared at himself. He made a small noise of disgust before he turned around slowly. His back came into view, and the mirror exposed a single tattoo, two names that looked like they were carved into his back with knives: “Danza” and “Dean”.