(WARNINGS: Suicide and Grell being…Grell. Based off the manga ch 105 with influences from the anime, ep 3: His Butler, Omnipotent and the OVA: The Story of Will the Reaper. Kudos to Bassy for being the priest. All the thanks to my Beta, who helped to expand Grell's death scene. I know I probably don't thank her enough.
Red String of Fate
It was all so exciting, the lights, the stage, the crowds, the costumes! One place where one could wear a dress, if it ever took his fancy and none would question him. He would become a famous actor someday and take center stage. Then his father couldn't say what a disappointment he was. He'd show them all. If only…
"Stop your daydreaming and get back to work, Sutcliff!" barked one of his superiors.
"Y-yes, sir," the lowly stagehand stammered and struggled to pick up the heavy box of props he was supposed to be carrying backstage before he had become distracted by the actors rehearsing their scenes. If only, he stole one more glance at the stage, if only he could work up the courage to do it.
That evening, during the performance he noticed several of the girls from the company peeking through the curtains and whispering. He ventured over and found they were looking up at one of the box seats where an extremely wealthy family was seated.
"That's the Spear's family, our new patron," one whispered.
"Not a very handsome family, I say, but very wealthy," another remarked.
"Any children?" Grell asked curiously.
"Two daughters and one very available son, or so they say," she peered up at the box, "Looks like they only brought the son today."
Grell leaned forward to get a better view. A little too far. He lost his balance and fell into others, causing them all to fall into a heap onto the stage with a shout. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized, trying to get back up and out of sight but kept getting caught in limbs and garments.
"What's going on down there?" Mr. Spears asked his wife.
"A little man is causing a scene, it appears," she answered.
"Well who is he?"
"Well, I don't know, dear," she answered haughtily, "this is my first time to this theatre. You can't expect me to know about everyone just yet."
"True. William-" Mr. Spears turned to his son. The seat was empty. "Gone again. How does he expect to become educated in the finer arts if he is always running off in the middle of performances?"
"You've gone and done it this time, Grell."
"Right in front of the patron. You'll be lucky if you don't get sacked."
"We'll be lucky if we all don't get sacked."
Grell hung his head in shame as the others berated him. This wasn't the first time he had screwed up and it wouldn't be his last.
"People, we have a show to do, if you don't mind." There was the manager, Mr. Morris now clapping his hands and ordering them back to work. He took the cigar out of his mouth and sneered at Grell. "And you, sir, will be fired, if I have anything to say about it."
"We shall see about that." A dark haired young man walked forward. The crowd hushed and gawked at the newcomer. "What happened?" he inquired.
"It's my fault, sir," Grell said in a quiet voice. William looked upon the small man upon the crate. He was incredibly thin and had mousy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail except for some strands at the forehead that seemed to have come free. Freckles were spotted across his sharp nose. Along with the shy and timid behavior, William found himself attracted to him. He mentally shook his head at his invading thoughts. He shouldn't think this way. He was busy chiding himself he almost missed Grell's next words. "I'm very clumsy you see."
The crowd shuffled back to work. Keeping their ears tuned to the conversation for anything that could lead to juicy gossip.
"What's your name?"
"Grell Sutcliff."
"From Yorkshire?"
"Yes, sir. I came to London to become an actor."
"Well you certainly made quite an entrance onto the stage," William smiled. Sutcliff was decidedly English, however, what a curious first name. William had never heard it's like before.
Grell looked up with a start at William's gentle barb, "I'm terribly sorry for causing such trouble. Please don't fire me. I'll atone for my mistakes somehow." Hands clasped together, his green eyes wide as he pleaded.
"Just try to be more careful in the future. Good day to you, Sutcliff." William turned and all but ran back to his family's box. The longer he stayed, the more drawn he felt to the man and such thoughts were forbidden by the church.
Grell hopped down off the crate. The young heir of the Spears' family fortune certainly didn't seem average. But then again, he didn't have the best judgment most of the time.
(x)
"I need to beg forgiveness, father." The wood of the booth was freshly oiled and the scent of incense hung in the air.
"For what, my child?"
"Impure thoughts."
"You know that you must purge these thoughts from your mind. You must remove from your life that which is causing these thoughts"
"How, father? This is not the first time I have had these sorts of thoughts, but never before have I felt such strong feelings to act on them."
"If they are for a certain young lady, you must remove her from your life. If it is merely the sight of any woman, I might suggest a numbering days in solitude or around your peers. Either way, you must pray."
William left the confessional booth and the cathedral not feeling like he had come any closer to a solution. Now he strolled along the riverbank, hands in his coat pockets. He viewed the scenery about him.
He couldn't get that mousy stagehand out of his head. William had almost lost his composure when Grell had looked upon him with those entrancing eyes, wide and pleading. They were the most beautiful things that William had ever seen before. A fact which he had to keep to himself, buried within his heart. He had to put this nonsense behind him. If he was found out, the punishment would be death. He refused to fall in love with another man. This same man he now saw on the riverbank holding a dagger.
(x)
Grell knelt on the grassy bank of the river fingering the sharp dagger he held in his hands as he gazed out across the water. He was foolish thinking he could ever become an actor. It didn't help that he had made a spectacle of himself in front of the new patron in the middle of a production. His only comfort was that he had been shown a small bit of kindness and he couldn't let him down again. His employers may not be so forgiving next time.
He raised the dagger to his throat, his hands shook. Grell closed his eyes and swallowed. Just as he was about to plunge the dagger into his body, a firm grip encircled around his wrist. Another hand pulled the dagger from his grasp. He opened his eyes to see it was the man from the previous evening that had prevented his death.
"You really are quite troublesome," William said with a sigh.
Grell bristled with anger at having been stopped. Where he normally would have kept it to himself, he instead lashed out. "Then why did you stop me?" he asked with a bite to his tone. He stared up into the man's brown eyes. They stayed there for a moment staring into each other's eyes. "Ah!" Grell exclaimed, remembering himself, "I mean…"
"I was not implying that you should end your life," William replied, having been a little shocked by Grell's unexpected outburst. It seemed the mouse could turn into quite the lion when riled properly and the way his nose wrinkled just now as he spoke out in his anger… "You say you want to be an actor." He changed the subject. "How about you give me an audition…Show me what you can do."
Grell hung his head, "I can't even make a pot of tea. My father's right. I'll never amount to anything." William's heart clenched. He wanted nothing more than to pull him into a tight embrace at this moment. "You're so kind to me. I would only let you down. Thank you for your generosity." William jerked the Grell up by the wrist which he still held. Grell let out a yelp as he was pulled to his feet.
"On your feet, Sutcliff. As your employer, I order you to show me your acting skills. I do not hire worthless people. If you say you are worthless, then prove it to me and you shall be released from your employment. I shall know if you act badly on purpose, so do not even try it."
Grell looked at William, wondering why this stranger should take such an interest in a person like himself. William's face was hard, yet his eyes were soft and caring. 'Why does he care? How can he care about…me. He cares. He cares about me.' It didn't make sense, and yet…
William took a seat on the riverbank. Grell couldn't help but stare as he tried to figure the stranger out. It occurred to him that he didn't even know his name. "I-Mister Spears."
"Will. Call me 'Will'."
"Will…"
"What about singing? Plays are not as popular at present. My father is thinking of making the playhouse more of an opera house."
Grell took a deep breath. "Very well." He took a position best suited for singing, taking a moment to choose which of the songs he knew would best be suited for a gentleman's ears. One more look at Will and he began to sing.
William sat in awe. His voice was absolutely beautiful. An angel couldn't have sounded any better and in the early morning light clad in a white shirt, he looked like an angel. He was entranced till the very end. William was could hardly find words. "That, that was…"
"You hated it. I was terrible and you hated me," Grell said quickly. To William he sounded on the verge of tears.
William immediately shook his head, "No. No, it was amazing." He stood and took Grell's hands. "Grell Sutcliff, I have never heard anything so perfect in all my life. It was beautiful…you are bea-" William stopped. Not only had he almost said too much but Grell now had tears running down his cheeks. William pulled out his handkerchief and wiped Grell's face.
"You…liked it?" Will seemed to misunderstand. These were tears of joy, not sorrow. No one had ever complimented him before. Never did he expect such a response. The almost comment about himself being beautiful didn't escape his notice. The man must be mad to ever think that Grell could be considered beautiful and yet Grell didn't doubt that William was being sincere.
"Fear not," William said softly. He was standing very close now, "You are going to keep your job. In fact I think you may be up for a promotion."
Grell placed a hand on Will's shoulder and kissed Will on his cheek. Not caring how inappropriate it was or what the consequences may be, especially if he misjudged Will's sentiments.
Still holding one of Grell's hands, William looked and ran to the nearest bridge, dragging Grell along behind him and keeping to the bank till they were under the arch of the bridge. A quick glance around to make sure no one could see and he pulled Grell close to him pressed his lips against Grell's. Grell responded and deepened the kiss, living in the moment.
"This is mad," Grell said breathlessly when they parted, "We don't even know each other." William stared down at him as he held him close. Grell's concern was not how wrong this was, but that they didn't know each other? What sort of creature had he fallen for, he wondered. He had already learned much about Grell in the few hours he had known him, yet every bit of it was a puzzle.
They sat down under the bridge and talked for hours, Grell resting comfortably in Will's arms. Confidence grew in him by the minute. It grew to the point that Grell enacted a scene from a popular play in recent past, in which he also showed promising acting skills. Alas the time came when they had to bid their adieus.
(x)
Where was he? Where was Will? He was supposed to be here. It was opening night! Grell's debut onto the stage. He understood Will had been busy lately and didn't have as much time for their relationship right now, but this was different. This was a very emotional time for Grell and he needed his loved one close to his side.
"You're on in five minutes, Sutcliff." Someone alerted him.
A young lad with a cap ran into the dressing area where Grell paced anxiously. "I have a letter for a Mr. Grell Sutcliff?"
Snatching the letter from the boy, he opened it quickly and read the contents. His heart sank with every line.
'Dear Mr. Sutcliff,
I shall not be seeking an audience with you anymore, but it would be unseemly if I did not first explain my actions of late. My behavior towards you has been most unbecoming and inappropriate. I entreat your forgiveness regarding this matter. I have distanced myself from your person, as an association, such as we have, has been ill advised from the very beginning and I have come to realize the wisdom of this advise which I so blatantly ignored. For not having been more guarded in such matters, I shall be seeking a place elsewhere to reflect on such indecencies.
You are in no way to seek to contact me. Any attempts to do so shall be dealt with harshly. You may keep the token of our acquaintanceship that I so irresponsibly bestowed upon you.
Sincerely,
William T. Spears'
Grell read and reread the letter, not wanting to believe it was true. Maybe he missed something. Maybe…
"Sutcliff, you're on!"
He fingered the red bow in his hair. Slowly, he drug his feet to his mark, the letter crumpled in his hands as clutched onto it desperately. The curtains rose to reveal the audience. Futilely, his eyes searched the crowd for any sign of Will. The music started. Grell opened his mouth.
(x)
It would be better if he just ended it. No one would miss him. He would no longer be a burden to those around him. After choking like he did on the stage, unable to sing a note. William had abandoned him. He had been foolish to think there could ever be anything between them. William was from a rich noble family. He was expected to marry well to another rich family. Grell was just a lowly peasant from a poor family with no history. He was a passing fancy to William, nothing more. He was nothing.
He tied one end of the rope off and looped the other end around his neck. Cautiously, he stepped onto the railing. The wind toyed with his hair. He looked down, unsure if he wanted to go through with this. He climbed down off of the railing and removed the rope. Grell sat on the pavement next to the railing. He pulled out the knife he carried on him and absently fiddled with it as he stared up at the stars. It was on a night similar to this that he and Will had danced together under the moon. Grell had borrowed a red dress with a pink bow on the back from the costumes and Will had worn a blue overcoat. It was just something silly they had done on a whim. William encouraging him to be brave and impulsive, but to Grell, it was one of the best nights he ever had. He could say that of any time he and Will had spent time together, whether it was stealing kisses behind clothing racks or meeting under that same bridge to hold each other.
It was so shiny, so sharp and his skin quite pale. Perhaps it could do with a bit of color. He pressed the blade into his flesh. A beautiful crimson color flooded to the surface. He stare din awe at its magnificence.
"Bravo, I must say, very good man. That was the best performance I have ever seen!" Grell looked to see a young man approaching, clapping his hands together, His group of friends stood back a bit grinning. "You were the one on stage tonight, were you not? We saw what you were trying to do just now. But just like you did on the stage, you chickened out." They all laughed. Grell laughed too, rising to his feet. How marvelous they would all look in this fabulous color he had just discovered.
He heard their words, their careless cruelty tossed in his direction, but something was different this time. Normally, he would have bowed his head and simply accepted their criticism and insults. After all, he was used to it, but he could feel something new stirring inside him. The rage he kept so carefully in check began to bubble to the surface, and he knew the smile that now graced his plain, freckled face was one of madness. They kept laughing and never noticed him eyeing the sharpness of the blade or the way he began to advance. They never noticed until it was too late.
Once it was over, he stood there for a minute gasping but he felt oddly relieved and lighter. He had become an artist as he had painted with those glorious shades of ultimate crimson. His hands were drenched in their blood, but still he stood reveling in his deeds.
The cry of alarm and shouts sounded distant in his ears, but he realized that the police was on the way. Some primal fear, a basic instinct of survival kicked in, so he ran. The police soon followed, shouting for him to stop, but that only gave his feet more speed. He heard his steps echoing off the cobblestones, and for the first time he felt truly free. Those words, slaps, punches, and shoves had had endured all of his life could no longer touch him. He was beyond all that.
By the time he reached the bridge, he realized his flight was futile, and he no longer cared about survival. He had tasted freedom, sweet freedom that those cops would put an end to all too soon if he was caught, and he knew that now he could die with that intoxicating taste still lingering on his tongue. Laughing loudly, he jumped over the railing and welcomed the icy embrace of the river below. For a brief moment, he imagined someone in a black suit, the likes of which he had never seen before holding a strange device and standing on the banks of the river.
~SEVEN PEOPLE BRUTALLY MURDERED ON -ST.~
"God be with the souls of the departed and with the hearts of the families who remain as London mourns the deaths of these young folk.
The culprit is believed to be a young male named Sutcliff. He was pursued by authorities to - Bridge from which he jumped into the river and subsequently drowned…"
William put the paper down on the table next to the stuffed chair in which he sat. He couldn't bear to read any more. He placed his hand over his mouth and took a shuddering breath. His involvement with this man had gotten people killed, along with the man himself. His father had always said to be careful with one's emotions. The door opened and his father and mother walked into the room followed by another man and a young lady close to William's age. William stood hastily to his feet and gave a slight bow.
The man and his daughter were introduced. Mr. Spears and the man had finally come to an agreement. William and the young lady were to wed next spring. His mother came up to him and kissed him on his cheek, "May the two of you be blessed." He kissed his mother back, shook hands with the man and kissed the lady's hand before excusing himself from the room, wishing now he had not postponed his departure.
He made his way to his father's study. He shut and locked the door behind him. Going over to the desk he retrieved a pistol from the drawer. He cocked it and put it in his mouth. BANG!
"Well, well, if it isn't the lover from last night's case. These two are certainly quite a pair," laughed a man in a black suit as he examined the cinematic record of William T. Spears. "Let's see how they do in the afterlife they chose for themselves." He took out the appropriate stamp and stamped the book next to the picture of William.
(x)
The following chapter(s) shall be snippets over the course of several years.