Grace Reaver was no ordinary girl. At sixteen years old, she stood out with her short blonde hair and heterochromia – a rare condition where her eyes were two different colours, with her left eye being blue and the right being green. On the surface, Grace may look like just another spoiled daughter of a millionaire. But there is much more to her than that. As the descendant of Death, Grace has been preparing from a young age to take over her father's role as one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

Grace's bedroom was small, even in comparison to the other rooms in the mansion where she lived. Despite its size, it was still larger than the master bedroom of an average house. Instead of using the ceiling lights in her bedroom, Grace preferred the calming glow of fairy lights.

Grace's bedroom was impeccably tidy, with everything in its place and organized with care. Shelves lining almost every wall held her collections of books, comics, and other collectibles, all of which were kept in pristine condition without a mark, scratch, or speck of dust to be found. Hanging above her bed was a scythe, a gift from her father on her fifteenth birthday. It had a handle made of white carbon fibre and a titanium blade with a neon blue flame pattern etched into it. This scythe was a symbol of Grace's eventual role as the successor to her father, Death, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

As Grace sat in a bean bag in the corner of her bedroom, her mind was on anything but homework. She was busy texting her friends, trying to avoid thinking about the tasks she had been assigned. "I'll do it tomorrow morning before school," she told herself.

Just as she was getting absorbed in her conversation, music suddenly started playing from the other end of the house. Grace's father was entertaining friends that evening, and they had different tastes in music – Grace preferred electronic and techno like Daft Punk, while her father was more of a rock and roll fan, with a fondness for bands like Queen, the Rolling Stones, and Metallica. In an effort to drown out the sounds of her father's party, Grace reached for her headphones, hoping to drown out her dad’s music.

But before she could put them on, her phone made a special "ding, ding" noise, indicating that she had received a text message. It was from Jack, a boy in her year who she quite liked and was almost certain liked her back. Grace smiled to herself, wondering what he had to say and feeling a little flutter of excitement in her stomach.

Jack: hey, howz it goin

Grace: Good thanks, and you?

Jack: Yeh good

Jack: my parents are gone this weekend

Jack: Did you wanna come over?

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Grace hesitated for a moment, weighing her options, while also feeling a bit confused, Jack always used correct grammar. On the one hand, she really wanted to go out with Jack – this was her chance, after all. On the other hand, there was the small matter of her father to consider. If he found out about her plans, he would probably kill Jack – literally. It was a problem, to say the least.

As she sat on her bed, trying to come up with a way to respond to Jack's invitation, there was a rather rhythmic knock on her bedroom door.

Grace opened the door to find a rather tall woman standing there. It was Marnie, one of her father's friends and the current Famine rider. Marnie was a tall and slender woman with perfectly tailored business attire. Her shoulder-length hair was dyed a sleek silver colour, almost as if it were made of metal, and it complemented her burgundy suit perfectly. The skirt instead of pants gave her outfit a modern and feminine touch, and on the breast pocket of her jacket was an embroidered symbol – a set of gold scales with one side much higher than the other.

‘Aunt Marnie!’ Grace said with great joy as she opened the door.

‘How's it going, short stack?’ asked Marnie as the two hugged.

‘Good, thanks,’ Grace responded. ‘And you're going to have to do better than that to make me mad.’ It was a strange thing, but over the centuries, the descendants of Death had always had incredibly short tempers. Grace's father and the other Riders had tried to unleash Grace's anger, as this brought out the full power of Death.

‘I can get Warren to come in if you like?’ Marnie offered as she entered Grace's room.

‘No thanks,’ Grace rolled her eyes. Warren was the descendant of War. ’Something about him just makes me feel uncomfortable.’

‘Trust me, he makes us all uncomfortable,’ Marnie said with a chuckle. ‘But you even more so, since you haven't unleashed your death powers yet.’ Marnie shuffled around in the bean bag trying to get comfortable.

‘And it will be a very long time before I do, if I have anything to do with it,’ Grace declared firmly.

‘I take it your dad still wants you to take over for him already?’ Marnie asked as she lightly jumped onto the bean bag and seemed to float into it with graceful ease.

‘Yeah, I know he wants to retire, and I really do want to take over for him, but I want to do it on my own terms, when I'm ready, not when he's ready,’ Grace replied.

‘You're more like him than you care to admit,’ Marnie commented.

‘Thanks, Marnie,’ said Grace rolling her eyes. ‘That's your best attempt at making me angry so far,’

‘I meant that as a compliment,’ Marnie chuckled as she pulled herself up out of the beanbag in a way that a normal human wouldn’t have had the strength or balance to do. ‘You're more stubborn than he is, I'll give you that. Anyway, I'd better get back to the others. Don't be a stranger – you are part of our group, after all.’

‘I hate Dad's music,’ Grace said with a sigh.

‘We all do, sweetie,’ Marnie said with a sympathetic smile. ‘But it's just a small price to pay for being part of this amazing family. Take care, and I'll see you soon.’ With that, Marnie shut the door behind her, leaving Grace to enjoy the peace and quiet of her own room once more.

Grace stood in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room the music coming from her dad's entertainment room. Suddenly, her phone dinged, signalling that Jack had sent her a message. ‘Oh right, Jack,’ Grace thought, trying to remember what she had been doing before the interruption. She grabbed her phone, but before she could even read the message, it shut off. ‘That's odd,’ Grace thought, ‘it was fully charged a few minutes ago.’ It wasn't until she realized she was standing in complete darkness, with all of her electronics now without power, that she realized something was wrong. ‘Marnie,’ Grace muttered to herself annoyed.

‘GO FUCK YOURSELF MARNIE!’ Grace shouted, her voice carrying easily over the sound of the music.