Happy Halloween to my readers! This is my second fanfic and it's dedicated to my lovely Undertaker! (Well, I can't say MY because we all love him)
Warning: May show signs of gayness, corpses and complete randomness. Sadly, no lemons (not confident yet in my lemony skills XD).
Disclaimer: Toboso Yana is the proud owner of Kuroshitsuji. R&R my readers I want to hear your comments.
Dedicated to my little 'sister' Rachel. I KNOW YOUR READING THIS SOMEWHERE.
On a dark night such as this, the cold of the coming season settles in, the city is bright with lights, the moon is high in the sky. The children gather 'round in the streets, knocking on the doors and yelling Trick-or-Treat, receiving sugar sweets, sour snacks and chocolate treats. For a small young boy and his servants at a manor, it's one calm soothing night where a demon's face is smiling. For a Grim Reaper, it is a night you can enjoy, a time when you can relax, a festivity where you can laugh at the human's superstitions and 'disguises'. But this night is not one to celebrate, it is not one to laze, it is not one to unwind. On the last day of October, when a New Moon settles invisible in the night sky, when the supernatural is the strongest, the Angel of Death should worry more. But not at cause of evil monsters waking in the night or spooky creatures of the dark; it was a rare thing, to have a Void moon on All Hallows Eve, and it made a Reaper twitch, it made them flutter, it made them shudder. If any reaper fell asleep on this night, on this moment, they might find it difficult to wake the next morning.
The youth were outside, passing by a stone graveyard, when one of them hatched an innocent plan.
'Let's play the courage game!' one suggested, and they all agreed, all except one, small little boy who was afraid of the dark. 'I dun think that's a good idea, John.' he responded, fear prominent in his quivering voice. They all booed and teased the little one for being too scared to go in a graveyard. 'Everything is dead; nothing's going to jump on you.' one older blond girl reassured. It was enough for all of them to enter and run around. Some looked at the gravestones, others stared at spider webs, one wanted to open a grave, and sadly for the little scared boy named Peter, he got separated from the group and stood in front of an old, marble crypt. Peter was scared, of course, but he was even more frightened when he saw the chamber's entrance was open and he saw a figure inside.
'W-who's there?' Peter managed to say, shaking, and when all was silent and only the flaps of bat's wings were heard, one small figure sneaked up on the young child. He started and fell back, shrieking a little. It was John who had scared him and spoke up 'Scaredy cat.' and the other children gathered, laughing and pointing. They all felt a shiver when another person cried 'Why hello there, children!' in an eerie tone with a pumpkin smile. They all turned and screamed 'It's a zombie!' and ran, leaving little Peter who saw the tall figure crouch down.
"Boo" was all it said, but the poor little Peter fainted with fear. "Oh, how fun it is to scare the little ones on this joyous holiday!" spoke the figure, leaving the child, skipping away.
He was known by all around as a demented funeral director; no one knew his real name but they called him Undertaker.
A tall man, wearing a large dark cloak and a long black top hat that shifted his hair to hide his eyes, glistening silver hair that falls past his waist, appeared in the mist of the night. His heels clicked against the stone gravel below, and long black nails rose to scratch a tilted head.
"~Well, I see the little ones are having fun in my garden, but really, they should be careful not to accidentally fall on an open grave~. I might bury one alive!" The silver-haired man turned and saw some kids peek at him through some large grave markers, quickly hiding in the mist. "Suddenly, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea..." a large, shiny grin made its way to the man's face at the thought. He bore a stare at the black moon above.
Hmm, I should be careful not to fall asleep tonight...
No one may know looking at the odd man skipping through the graveyard, but he's a Grim Reaper, and a legendary one to boot. He worked, as his nickname suggests, as an undertaker, fascinated with the dead after retiring/deserting –think of it as you like– from the Dispatch. Living the monotonous life of a Reaper was boring compared to pampering the Dead. But there was one being who understood and respected his ideas, even when he had a different opinion himself, and that was the infamous Grell Sutcliff, the most flamboyant living creature in this planet, hands down.
Although Grell preferred the fleeting moment of death, describing it as 'wonderful splatters of red in a passionate canvas of DEATH –insert Death pose here–', our Undertaker thought of human's soul as interesting, life and death was messy, but their forgotten bodies, left behind after a Reaper had completed the job, were captivating and charming. The two polar beings were misunderstood by the other fellow reapers. To our Red Lady, a human life was near-worthless, uncaring to their feelings, yet the blood, the life essence of a simple human was his favorite. The Undertaker on the other hand thought backwards: a human's soul was immensely important; it was just their physical nature that intrigued him the most.
Be as it may, the graveyard he was currently in was quite lonely, until a familiar voice ran in the air.
"Hello~ my darling!" the Crimson Reaper yelled, fast approaching.
"Well, good evening to you, m'dear~." The mortician responded, giddily waving a hand to his mistress.
"Sooo~, do you like my outfit?" The redhead spun to demonstrate his wardrobe.
Grell had dressed up fittingly for the festivity; he had a tight, red witch's dress that hanged from his shoulders and fell barely past his knees, it had short sleeves and a spider web's pattern on the center of the back; his long velvety tresses hanged from his shoulders and dropped down like water around his dress to his thighs. The appropriate witch's hat and two black evening gloves that covered his forearms fully highlighted the dress well; pitch-black, high heeled, thigh-high boots with criss-cross lacing looked very complicated to put on and remove –which for some reason is what Undertaker had been thinking at the moment– yet it all came together perfectly.
"Why yes, it fits you like a porcelain doll." He pulled something from inside a pocket, unwrapping it to reveal a purple lollipop. "Sadly, I didn't dress up for the night m'dear, I apologize." The older reaper tasted the treat cheerfully.
"Hmm, that's alright, but I'll take your candy in return then!" He swiped the bonbon and took it in his mouth. "Mmm~, it takes just like you."
"My, my, it seems you forgot who's in charge here ~he he~ now give me my candy, or I'll use force." Undertaker's threat was soft and parted with chuckles. "Oh you know I would like that very much. And I don't want to give it back!" Soon, Grell was running away with they treat in mouth, savoring it, while the other had started a wild goose chase over it. The sound of heels pitter-patter dominated the cemetery, and one swift turn later, the ginger spoke up. "You can't catch meee–guah!" He fell to the floor with the other over him.
"I think I already did, now surrender the swee–ckk." The red head had kicked him off with his heels too strongly. Unlucky for the Undertaker, he didn't have time to react so his head landed on a particularly hard tombstone (as he could tell with the throb of his skull) and broke past it. Thompson Harford would get a new one later.
'So much for playful teasing' was the only thought that computed on his now-broken head besides the transvestite's attempts at returning reality to Undertaker. The world looked a bit funky and hazy as he blinked a couple of times.
Undertaker...
Bright red view.
Undertaker?!
A grip on the shoulders.
WAKE UP!
Eyes shot open. "...You rang?" Grin.
Sigh. "Sheesh, don't scare me like that..." The little reaper stepped back. "Sorry for almost pulverizing your head, I just reeeeally wanted that lollipop." Grell stated without a care in the world.
"I suppose it's alright, as long as I get my revenge." Undertaker lunged forward and pinned the reaper to the ground below them, over a grave's lid. He suggestively gripped the redhead's lower back, body heat radiating from it. "Now...what should I take in place of my treat? Maybe this?" Undertaker took a light bite of the squirming ginger's neck, earning a soft mewl from the red reaper's mouth. Soft kisses and love bites were left before he knew it and then Undertaker turned to the other side of his nape.
"Aah!" He took the flesh and sucked at the spot harshly, caressing it with his tongue afterwards. Damn it, he always knew how to work his magic. The taller man traced the tip of his tongue over Grell's clavicle, then his throat, then the delicate jawline, gently sucking and nipping here and there. Undertaker stopped at the edge of his lips, lifted the victim's chin, a shiver running through him, and said "I think that's enough payback don't you?"
"G-God, you never cease to tease me!" The younger reaper turned a bright shade of red and huffed. "Can't you finish what you started? Hmph! Sometimes you leave me so hot and bother–" A crunch of twigs was heard near them.
Undertaker stood up and turned, Grell yelling aloud. "Who dared interrupt my kinky time?"
A silhouette appeared behind an old, withering tree near the path beside the grave Undertaker decided to use as a couch. It looked like a man that was heavily injured looking at how he walked from the distance.
"Excuuuse me sir, but do you have any business with me– oh...that's unusual." After taking a good look at the man, he realized a crucial detail.
"HOLY Crusade, it's a zombie?" Grell shouted too loudly at the mortician's ear.
"...Yes, my little headache, it is." The moving corpse closed the distance rather quickly for something that's supposed to be slow as a snail. Suddenly, all around them, dozens of zombies appeared, moaning, groaning and grumbling.
"W-what the...? Why are there so many dead people walking? Why are they walking in the FIRST place?" The reaper cowered behind the silver-haired man. Grell was not scared, no he never showed fear unless in front of something truly scary like an angry Sebastian, but it didn't mean he didn't want to be chewed to bits!
"I can say on the name of my Mother –if I had one– that I have no idea what is happening, m'dear."
All of the meat puppets circled the two reapers and seemed to have taken a deep breath inward. A second of silence rose before the strangest thing happened: the zombies talked. Wait...not talked, shouted in unison.
"FATHER!"
"WHAT THE HELL?" Grell responded. One after another zombie started to hug, –yes, hug– the Undertaker, pushing Grell outside of the circle.
"...I have children? Undead, rotting children?"
To be continued...
ZOMBIES.
Yup, randomness. This occurred to me in my daze of daydreams (my brain is that messed up XD)
Anyway~, I'll see you tomorrow.
~Cookies