Title: Red AN: Now, go ahead and read this. You'll love it. And if you don't...I'm sorry I can't write well enough for you. Or, that you just don't like this. I want you guys to know it's probably different than what you think. And...this is probably one of my more vaguely serious fics... ***************************************
Author: Reno-Sinclair/Karma's On The Way
Rating: M
Word Count: 1762
Characters: Grell Sutcliffe, William Spears
Warnings: Character death, gore, sick humor, set RIGHT before the beginning of Kuroshitsuji
Disclaimer: I don't own Grell or Will. I do, however, own Nameless Man and most of the plot, which I will share credit with Pervyyaoifancier/Naria Lacour de Fanel.
Summary: Sometimes small people can do great things.
This was the night. She could no longer stand it, the life she lived. She wanted a change, she wanted to be left out of the high life so she could do as she pleased. She was a woman ahead of her time, and that didn't leave very many men happy with her. She went on about how to treat a lady, how to do so many things for her that your back would break before you were done. She loved attention and relished in it.
But tonight was not about attention. She paced her room, before the large picture window letting in fragmented moonlight through the large tree before it, her puffy red dress clinging to her body perfectly. Well, at least the bodice did. The skirt of the dress flared out and ruffled about her long legs. As she made her way, finally, to her bathroom to prepare for her night, she began to untie herself from her dress.
The more of her body that was bare, the more it was noted that she was, in fact, very male in every aspect of the word. However, that didn't mean she was any less of a lady.
And this lady had had her heart broken. Her makeup strayed down her pale cheeks, jade eyes surrounded by puffy, red skin and the white around the green looked bloodshot. Her smile was missing, the one that almost always graced her lips, replaced by a steady line of ruby red. The dress trailed along behind her until she stepped out of it, leaving it in a rumpled mess on the floor, in the middle of the doorway between her washroom and bedroom, just proving how truly fickle she could be.
The proper under attire was not worn, simply a vaguely see-through red netting covered her private areas, black ribbing holding it tight to her thighs. The package nestled at the apex of her thighs seemed happy to escape its confines, springing to life before being told to behave by a pair of pinching fingers. Now was not the time to be intent on pleasure. Tonight was about pain, suffering, and longing for something better.
The water was carefully sloshed into the tub, nice and steamy and ready for her bath. She was going to make sure her entire body was beautiful and ready for this one moment that would forever change her life. She vaguely wondered if she would have a life after this. What would happen when she finally crossed over to the other side? Would everything just stop or would her wish come true?
She sighed a little, sliding into the tub and relishing the biting sting of water that was far too hot for one's own good. It prickled and felt nice, though, so she slid down, her long hair pooling about her as she let it out of the intricately designed buns it had been in. She still looked amazing, the moonlight filtering in through her window, again, as she lay there and nearly glowed in the light cast through with no trees to mar it.
She began to wash, making sure her skin was supple and soft, her hair was soft and silky, and her face was blemish free. If she was going to die tonight, Lord help her, she was going to die gorgeously, instead of looking horrid like most people. When she went to him, the undertaker would be taken aback by her beauty and captivated, and maybe even kiss her. The thought of being a trussed up and sexualized corpse made her smile in a way that no true lady should ever attempt. It was a twisted, last-ditch effort to talk her out of it, but she found herself wanting to watch it happen from a safe distance from her own body.
That smile remained on her face as she thought of all the naughty things some fresh young mortician could do to her when she wasn't alive. No average woman would think about such things in such great detail, but death had always garnered her attention; she saw beauty in it, over anything else. Of course, nothing less was to be expected of the great Grell Sutcliffe. She was the lady no one invited to their gatherings if they could help it. She had an impeccable fashion sense, but there was something not quite right in her head, and everyone knew it. But nobody was man enough to say it to her face.
Once she felt she was at her best, she rose and dumped more scalding water on herself. Her skin was a warm, heated red and those dangling bits were interested again. Damn erythrophilia. She cursed herself softly as she got out, pinching again to get her 'friend' to play dead. She dressed once more in her meager panties and a thin, short nightie that she had made herself. To put it simply, it was a red, see-through fabric made into a tiny, slim-fit dress that flared around the tops of her thighs and just barely covered her privates. What? She definitely was ahead of her times.
So, now it was time to get down to business. The red satins and silks and laces of her bed wrinkled a little as she sat on it, the bed dipping slightly with her meager weight. From her bedside table drawer she pulled out a knife she had smuggled in from dinner and slowly brought the knife to her wrist. The cool metal on her warm skin made her shiver a little and the blade slowly slipped past the first layer of skin. Adding more pressure, she began to make large slits in her wrists, being sure to make it look fatal but doing it in spots that would leave her with strength and blood.
"My dear woman, should you really be doing that?" Oh, perfect! It didn't take long at all for the inevitable. And, of course, she even got the one that would show himself. A tall, thick man walked out from the shadows of her room, weilding a large item that seemed to be a hose with a spiked sprinkler-like attachment on it. He swung it like it was some kind of mace. She dropped the knife and, with a dizzy look in her eyes, collapsed back on her bed. It seemed she had enough blood dripping down her thighs from her cut up wrists that she would be blacking out soon.
Encroaching on his prey like a lioness on a fallen gazelle, the large man raised up his scythe to begin. However, when he reached the poor lady's knees, he found himself caught off-guard with a thin elbow in his gut. She sure had shot up fast. Her body was quick and her strikes hit nice and easily, and soon he had dropped his precious scythe in favor of protecting himself from her onslaught. While her hits weren't powerful, there were an awful lot of them at once.
As soon as he was backed away from the weapon long enough, she found herself growing awfully tired. However, she made her way as quickly as possible to the sprinkler and hefted it, swinging it in a similar fashion to how he had when he'd first come toward her. Suddenly, his face went from stunned and paled to fearful. The best way to kill a Shinigami? To get them with their own Death Scythe. With a swing that harbored all of her strength and energy, she swung the flail and connected hard with a cheek, sending the roughly seven inch spikes into the Death God's head. With that last bit of her strength drained, she fell to the floor in a small pool of her own blood. Maybe next time she would find some other way to get a Shinigami to appear in her room. Blood loss wasn't fun.
A loud pop with some oddly sweet, yet spicy scent filled the room and she weakly turned jade eyes on the new man in the room.
"Ugh, Bruce, killed by a human..." He shook his head, pushing up his glasses with what looked like double-ended hedge clippers. Turning his attention to the person on the floor, he moved over. "And you're what killed Bruce? A tiny little thing, aren't you?" He sighed exasperatedly, "Don't speak, you shouldn't have lost so much blood. And all of this to become a Shinigami?"
The lady in red nodded slowly, looking up at this new man with an enamored expression.
"...very well." He held out his hand. "Come with me."
"Where are we going?" As soon as she took his hand, the world seemed to spin and she collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.
***Time Skip - Four hours later***
She slowly sat up in what appeared to be a hospital bed, to the sight of...wait. Everything was unnaturally fuzzy. She'd had perfect vision when she'd gone to sleep. A hand slipped over her face and left behind a pair of...glasses? She frowned before looking up at the man above her.
"Why can't I see?"
"You can see fine with those, trust me. We all have the same affliction. Shinigami all have terrible eyesight when we are not retired." The man told her, shrugging slightly. "My name is William, and, since I was the one that found you...I will be the one to train you." He didn't sound happy about that. "But first, we have to wait for your body to finish dying."
Finish dying? Finish? But she thought she was already dead. Then the pain hit. One by one, every nerve ending in her body lit on fire and she writhed in pain on the bed. After a good twenty minutes, she relaxed and her eyes slowly opened, revealing hazy jade.
"Are you alright?" Of course not!
"That was the most...sensual experience of my life!" She gushed suddenly, reaching up and pulling her new trainer down for a kiss. "What's your name, handsome?" Oh, God, he feared for the worst and here it was, his new recruit.
"William Spears. I am your boss, don't go getting too cozy."
But, well, when it was mentioned before that Grell Sutcliffe wasn't your traditional lady...it was meant to fit to every definition of the word. She hugged onto William's arm and squealed.
"Oh, Will, we'll be so fantastic together!"
"Oh, brother." Came the muffled response as he was tugged down on top of the other, finding out for the first time that this was, indeed, no lady.
********************************************** AN: Well...I don't like it. XD I think it's weird, but the basic story is there. Take it for what it is, please. XD Now, before I get flames for this idea, I thought it would be entertaining to see a different way for it to happen. I do believe they're born that way and go through schooling to become a shinigami. I like the idea of an academy. But...this was something I was talking with Pervy about, and I figured it was a good idea to write it. Also, Icy thinks it'll be a fun read, because I was telling her about it. 8D