This is based off of the Vocaloid song series 'Story of Evil'. I own nothing.
Vincent Phantomhive paced back and forth, his arms folded behind his back, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His kingdom was falling to pieces, and it was obvious. He was at war with the White kingdom to the north, and the Red kingdom to the south was just playing neutral. They were low on knights, supplies, hell, everything you needed for a war!
"Vincent, you're stressing yourself out far too much." Rachel, his wife, and the queen of their own Blue kingdom said, her voice filled with concern, "You should summon a prophet, and if we are to lose this war, we can simply evacuate the kingdom and leave the palace."
"No!" Vincent turned to her, rage showing clearly in his eyes, "I refuse to lose this war against a few religious Catholics!" He exclaimed. He let out a long, tired sigh, taking a seat on his throne next to Rachel.
"What about... What about Undertaker?" Rachel suddenly asked after a few moments of silence.
"Undertaker?" Vincent looked at her with confusion, "How can he help?"
"He has many tricks up his sleeve, that we know. If he can somehow turn the tides of this war, we could still win. Please, trust me on this, my king." Rachel begged him, laying her hands gently upon his arm.
"If you're so confident that Undertaker will be able to help, we will have to try it, my lady." He smiled tiredly at her, kissing her hand. He turned to the couple of guards surrounding the room, "Guards!" He demanded, "Go and fetch us Undertaker! He is required to come to the throne room, King's strict order!"
The guards immediately saluted and left the palace, on their merry way to find the said Undertaker.
Let's just say his order didn't go as planned.
It was three days until Undertaker finally arrived, and Vincent was not happy with his horribly timed arrival.
"What took you so long, Undertaker? It shouldn't have taken you longer than a day to arrive here!" He demanded, standing from his throne, his fists clenched.
Undertaker gave a small chuckle, his signature grin on his face, "You never gave a specific time, good king," he said, "so I decided to just come when I felt like it!"
Vincent let out an irritated sigh, "Fine then, you're here now. I need you to-"
"Hold on a minute," Undertaker tilted his head to the side, putting a long black nailed finger to his lips, "You know my price for help."
"Undertaker, as much as I'd love for you to destroy my palace with your laughter, I don't have time for this!" Vincent exclaimed impatiently. Rachel tapped his shoulder and whispered something to him. Vincent gave her a look, but she just shooed him back to Undertaker.
"... Fine then, here's my joke." He paused for a moment, "Two men walked into a tavern, but one of them was a duck."
Silence.
"What? I'm not good at-"
Vincent was interrupted by a roaring laughter coming from Undertaker, who was already on the floor struggling for air.
"That was splendid! Priceless! I can't breathe!" The gray haired man gasped as he held his stomach.
"It wasn't even funny..." Vincent thought to himself, but shook it off.
Once Undertaker had regained himself and stopped laughing like a lunatic, Vincent asked him for the help he required.
"As I'm sure you've figured out by now, our kingdom is at war with the White Kingdom. We're losing horribly, and we are at risk." He frowned, "I am Vincent Phantomhive, the king of games and the Blue kingdom, and I refuse to lose this war! Undertaker, I will pay any price to get the upper hand in this war," he looked the other man directly into his hidden eyes, "Is there anything you can do to help me?"
Undertaker put a finger to his chin, deep in thought, "Well, there is one thing I can do, but you will pay a price." He said with a grin.
"Please tell me it's not another joke?" Vincent asked, frowning.
Undertaker's grin almost looked devilish.
"No, no, not another joke, no matter how much I'd like that. This price is a little higher," he could see the bit of nervousness implanted in both of the Phantomhive's eyes, "your first born child will bring the downfall of this kingdom. This child will have eyes red as blood, hair black as midnight. Their soul will be from the very depths of Hell, and no matter what you do, you cannot stop it from growing into a demon."
Vincent and Rachel's eyes showed concern, even worry. They knew what Undertaker could do, but surely he could not curse a child who was not even yet in a mother's womb? Vincent was confident of this idea. Surely Undertaker must be lying.
"We accept your terms," he said finally, earning a warning glance from Rachel, but he payed no mind, "Save this kingdom, Undertaker!"