A/N: Greetings! This is my very first attempt at writing a Kuroshitsuji fan fiction. (And my very first non-Sweeney Todd related fan fiction, I might add.) A friend of mine introduced me to the anime over the summer and I fell in love with it and I've since then read the manga. Undertaker is by far my favourite character. The idea for this fic just popped into my head the other mo(u)rning and I felt I just had to write it down. The title of the story is from a Rasputina song and the title for the chapter is from an Emilie Autumn song. Enjoy! ^^

And as always: Me no own. You no sue.

Dig Ophelia

Chapter I: Opheliac

Opheliac: Noun. One who delves into madness.

~.~.~.~

England, 1509

A young lady of perhaps twenty years of age with almost waist length, wavy strawberry blonde hair, grey-green eyes and dressed in a gown the color the bluest skies walked arm in arm with a young man of about the same age. He wore a dignified suite of all black, which matched his long, black hair which he had neatly tied back in a ribbon of the same gloomy color. A small section of his hair had been braided. His eyes were a faded blue. The two of them were laughing heartily as they walked together down a dirt road right outside of town. The sun was shining brightly and birds were merrily chirping paeans. There was not a cloud in the sky. It was a beautiful spring day.

The lady stopped laughing for a moment in an attempt to catch enough of her breath to speak. "Oh, Undertaker, you always know how to make me feel so much better." She began to giggle again.

The man smiled from ear to ear. "It is the least I could do for such a charming lady as yourself." He bowed with a flourish of his hand.

"Oh, stop it, you foolish sod. You are making me blush." She went into another fit of giggling. After a moment she finally composed herself. "Thank you for joining me on this little walk today. It was just what I needed to get my mind off of things. You always find a way to cheer me up even in my worst moods."

"There is no need to thank me. You know I would do anything for you, Anna. No matter what and no matter how bad things get, I will always be here for you. No matter where the storms of life may toss you, I will always come to your aid. Remember that." Undertaker said.

"I know that, my dear. I know. And for that I am forever in your debt." Anna replied, smiling up at him.

They continued down the road for a little while longer until Undertaker spoke up. "Anna, I know that this is a very improper thing of me to ask of you, and I know that I have asked you this very question before, but would you please stop seeing Victor. He is no good for you. I worry for your safety at times. He is a cruel man. I do hate you see you hurt."

She stopped and looked him in the eyes. A dark cloud has passed over her features. "My dear, I know you mean well, but you know I cannot. It just that…that I love him. I really do."

Undertaker raised a questioning eyebrow.

Anna shook her head. "I know it seems so very strange, but I do. I… I… oh! 'tis so very complex. You just would not understand. Such a strange bird, love is…" she started to trail off and turn her head down and to the side.

The man in black hung his head morosely and nodded.

She turn her head back to him. She placed a finger under his chin and lifted his head up. "There is no need to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I promise you."

"I know." he replied.

The old clock in a center of town rang out 4 o'clock.

"Oh my! I must be getting back home." Anna exclaimed. "Thank you for everything."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then rushed off down the road. Undertaker waved her a good-bye and watched as her figure grew smaller and smaller until she was too far away to be seen. He sighed sullenly and kicked at a pebble on the ground. He and Anna had been the best of friends since they were small. As young children Anna would come to visit the funeral parlor which his family owned on a daily basis. (Many times just for the sake of getting away from her callous father.) They would spend hours playing among the coffins. If it was a nice day out they would go to the town cemetery and chase each other around the tomb stones and pick flowers. She would make the two of them crowns of daisies. Anna would always be singing some nursery rhyme as they played. She had such a melodious voice. He had often dreamed that he and Anna would get married some day and start a family of their own…until she meet Victor Greene, the local blacksmith. He was a hulking, coarse man with a terrible drinking problem. Undertaker was never quite sure what Anna saw in this sorry excuse for a man, but nonetheless she had fallen in love with him. On his worse days when he had been drinking he would slap her and kick her around as if she were nothing more than a mangy dog. On other days he would verbally abuse her, calling her every foul name in the book. Many a time Undertaker would try to talk her out of the relationship, but she would never budge. He was forced to stand back helplessly watching the one he loved the most being abused. The very thought made him sick. He sighed again, stuffed his hands in his pockets and started off down the road.

~.~.~.~

A cool breeze was sending a cluster of cumulus clouds across the sky, blocking out the setting sun as they passed. Undertaker was standing at the highest point in the town cemetery leaning against a tree, spade in hand. The funeral ceremony for the baker's wife had concluded and the mourners had already gone back home. His job for today was done and now he was staring out at the marvelous view below him. Dozens of tomb stones of ever shape and size filled the landscape making an odd and dark labyrinth against the vivid colors of the sun set sky. Another gust of wind blew and he smiled to himself. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift off with it until it came to the thought of Anna. He had not seen her in a few weeks and he was beginning to worry. His usually smiling fancy turned into frowning. After a few more moments he straighten up from his leaning position again the tree, slung the spade over his shouldered and began to head back home. Just as he was about to descend the hill on which he stood, he saw a figure come running towards him at a frantic pace, tripping over tombstones here and there as it went. As the figure grew closer, he saw that it was Anna. Her pastel green dress was dirtied and slightly ripped. Undertaker involuntarily dropped his spade from his hand.

"Oh, I knew I'd find you here. Thank God…" she said, panting. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder and began to cry in large choking sobs. He pulled her away from him to get a look at her. Her face was bruised and tear stained. A stream of dried blood ran across her cheek.

"Good lord, Anna. What has happened to you?"

Instead of answering him, she continued to sob. He wrapped an arm around her and led her over to the tree where he had formerly stood and sat her down on the grass. He sat down next to her. "Anna?"

"He… I… He… I… I-I cannot take this any longer!" she screamed. "This life I have been leading has been far too torturous! My poor mind cannot take this any longer!" Her head collapsed onto his lap and she continued to cry. "I cannot do this anymore…" she whimpered.

"Oh, Anna…" Undertaker said, stroking her messy hair. He knew this was inevitable, and he had not be able to stop it. Why had she not listened to him? Could she not see it, too?

The clock in town began to strike the hour. Anna picked her head up and looked out. "Oh my, 'tis late, 'tis late. I must, I must get back home soon." She began to get up on shaking legs. Undertaker held her steady. He did not want her to go back.

"Anna, my dearest, why don't you come home with me instead? I'll make tea and those biscuits that you love so much."

"No, no. I cannot. I cannot." She said shaking her head furiously.

"But Anna…"

"I told you already, I cannot." She looked up at him with hurt eyes. Undertaker's heart ached to see eyes once so happy now so full of pain. She sniffled and he wiped the tears from her eyes. She swallowed hard. "Good night, sweet Undertaker, good night." She kissed him and then ran off down the hill and into the darkening evening.

~.~.~.~

A few days later, Undertaker was sitting in his funeral parlor absently sipping tea. He had not had very much time to actually sit down over the past few days, due to the flood of "guests" that were coming in. There was a knock at the door. He set his tea cup down on the desk and went to open it. When he opened the door he was meet by two men carrying something shrouded in a black cloth.

"What do we have here, gentlemen?" Undertaker asked, letting them into the shop.

"Found her washed up on the banks of the river. Seems as if she did this to herself."

"To herself?" Undertaker questioned.

"Looks like suicide to me." The other man said. "Seen her looking all hysterical-like the other night. Don't surprise me. You know how women are, all weak minded and such. The gates of Heaven are closed to this one."

Undertaker frowned and motioned for them to put the body in the back room and on the table. After setting their parcel down, they quickly exited the shop. Undertaker rolled up his sleeves and walked to the back room to examine his newest guest. He began to unwrap the black cloth. He had unraveled the top portion, then stopped dead in his tracks. Before him was the face of his beloved Anna. Her face was as pale as alabaster and streaked with river mud. Her hair was matted and numerous twigs and leaves were tangled in it. He unwrapped the rest of her shroud to reveal a damp and soiled dress and bruised limbs. There was dirt under her nails. He could feel the hot tears begin to burn in his eyes. He gently caressed her cold, lifeless face.

"Oh, Anna…"

He traced his thumb against her lips and then opened her mouth. Out flowed muddy river water and rotting leaves. The water ran down the sides of her mouth and onto the table. He recoiled at the site and began to sob.

"Oh, Anna. How on Earth could I have ever let this happen to you…"

~.~.~.~

That day was entirely devoted to preparing her body for its final rest. He carefully washed her body , leaving no traces of the river in which she perished. When he removed her dress he discovered a vast array of old and new bruises, which caused the noose of guilt to wrap even tighter around his heart. He applied fragrant oils to her skin to ward off the smell of death and decay. He washed and brushed her hair until it shone in the brilliance it did when she still lived. To her face he applied a tint of red to take away her deathly pallor. He placed flowers through her hair and dressed her in the finest gown. He was going to have her buried like a queen.

When he had finally finished his art of restoration he picked her up in his arms and held her tightly. New tears began to flow from his eyes.

"I am so sorry, Anna. I had made a promise to you and I broke it. It was never supposed to end like this. I can never forgive myself."

He kissed her then gently placed her in the coffin which he had made just for her.

~.~.~.~

Undertaker stood before a pious looking and rather corpulent old priest.

"You are aware that the act of suicide is a sin against the God of love and punishable by damnation to Hell, correct?" He priest said in a gruff voice.

"Father, I have examined the girl's body and have concluded that she did not take her own life. I knew this girl personally and her character was not one which would commit such a dreadful act. Her death was most likely an accident. She must have been running by the river, tripped, fell into the water and hit her head again a rock, causing her to lose consciousness and thus drown."

Deep in his broken heart Undertaker knew that these words were a lie, but he could not bare to see her buried in the manner of a common criminal.

The priest stared at him with beady eyes for a while, then nodded. "Hmp. I take your word for it, Undertaker. You are a honest man and your family has served the members of this community for many, many years."

"Thank you, Father." Undertaker said with a curt bow, mentally breathing a sigh of relief. He then turned around, loaded the coffin into the black funeral cart and rode off to the cemetery.

The sky had turned grey and a cold drizzle of rain had begun to fall. The wind started to pick up.

When he reach the hill in the cemetery where she was to be buried he unloaded the coffin and placed it beside the grave which he had dug himself. The funeral ceremony then began.

During the ceremony Undertaker did not hear the words the priest spoke nor did he see the group of mourner that had gathered around. He was in another world. He closed his eyes to try to picture Anna as she was in life, but could only bring up the image of her in death.

The ceremony had concluded and the priest and mourners (Victor Greene was not one of them) were beginning to leave. Undertaker shook himself out of his daze and then began to lower the coffin into the ground with a heavy heart. After he had laid the box in its final resting place he let the bouquet of daisies he had picked to fall into it.

"Requiescat in pace, my dearest Anna." He whispered to the wind and began to fill in the dirt over top of his beloved.