The War

Luther wondered whether or not that was quick and painless. He knew better than to ask though. "Suicide seems to be the most common cause of death among Reapers, followed by murder. I wonder if there's some connection there..."

She shrugged. "I'm guessing that someone is about to kill me or be concerned about me." She stood up.

"Why would someone kill you?"

She shrugged. She began walking back.

Luther followed.

She looked at her feet.

Luther wasn't sure why.

She arrived at the building.

Luther opened the door for her.

Diane walked in. She pressed herself against the wall.

Florence had his hood back on and was standing alone. As Luther entered Florence walked past. He said something that only Luther could hear before walking out of the building and into the snow.

The other Reapers were still talking to eachother and just generally hanging out.

Diane went back to sulking in a dark corner, muttering to the mice.

Luther decided to let her go about her business.

She felt more comfortable with mice than people.

Martin wondered what had happened between Luther and Diane when they were outside.

Diane looked to see who was looking at her.

Martin approached her slowly, trying not to scare the mice.

The mice looked at him. The held the same terrified expression as Diane.

Martin wasn't sure why they looked scared.

The mice fled. Diane's pet mouse nestled in her hood.

"Um, hi." Martin said.

"..."

"Is something the matter?"

Mr. Whiskers squeaked. "Sh, Mr. Whiskers." Diane said to her mouse. "I'm fine." The unsaid words were: go away.

"Are you sure?" Martin asked.

"Martin!" A voice came. A skeleton in a Reaper's cloak stood behind Martin. "Leave the poor girl alone."

"But I have to warn her about-"

"By now she should already know, and if not, she will certainly find out."