Grell x William and Grell x Sebastian. Mature for future content.
Grell looked at the smooth, slate colored envelope again running his fingers across the elegant seal marked with a single 'P'. Oh this was a letter from Sebastian all right—well technically it was a letter from that brat Ciel Phantomhive…and technically it wasn't addressed to him. Grell had simply intercepted—borrowed it from a Mr. Whitmore's mailbox before the old man had a chance to receive it. It could easily be passed off as an accident, after all mail was lost all the time. But Grell was not going to let this one pass him by, oh no. When he heard that the Phantomhive Manor would be having a New Year's gala he absolutely had to attend. After all, this was his chance to see Sebas-chan again!
Giggling in excitement, the redhead practically skipped through the halls to his office, heels clicking against the polished flooring of the offices to his own. He threw open the door and slipped inside; however as soon as he laid eyes on the man in his office his elated grin turned into a look of surprise.
"Will! What are you doing here?" He stopped dead, not quite sure what the man was doing in his office. Or box really, it was ridiculously tiny and the only thing separating it from being labeled a cubicle was the door. Usually he was the one that went to wait in the other man's office, not the other way around. His eyes widened as he slipped the letter in his hand behind his back and covered his look of surprise with a smile. It wouldn't do to have William find the invitation; he would get all the wrong ideas and probably forbid Grell from going or give him some kind of assignment that made it impossible. As it was, he had to work incredibly hard just to manage to get one day of freedom for the event.
William paused, turning his attention from the window to Grell. His expression remained the same and it appeared he didn't notice the blue envelope the redhead had. He was all business when he spoke.
"There have been a string of recent, troublesome cases in London dealing with torn souls. Likely a demon's doing; we cannot ignore the fact a demon is stealing souls in a high-security district. Ever since the…" William trailed off, of course referring to the Jack the Ripper case that Grell had created, it was still kept under wraps but ever since London had been on high alert and reapers were stationed every block or so. That was why it was so frustrating to have a demon slip into their territory and begin dismembering souls. William was particularly perturbed considering he had just been promoted to the head of the London district and therefore this problem fell square on his shoulders.
"And?" Grell blinked innocently, shoulders slumping slightly as he realized where this was going and he was not happy about it.
"And you're needed to go survey the situation, Grell." William confirmed all of the redhead's worries with that simple order. William was still his superior and could still give orders despite the fact this was technically his day off.
"Will!" Grell whined, there was no other way to describe the sound that had come from his mouth. "That's not fair! I had plans for today!"
"That cannot be helped, Grell. You realize we're short on agents—" William was abruptly cut off as the redhead moved to wrap his arms around the dark haired man's waist. Grell leaned forward with a smile in place and eyes pleading.
"William, just for tonight why can't I have off? Even for a few hours, that's all I need…then I'll go investigate. I'm sure nothing will happen; we have the entire area under watch. Please?" Grell made full use of the close contact, fluttering his lashes and allowing his eyes to lock with William's in the attempt it would be enough to persuade him. William however, was unmoved. Work could not be put aside for play and he could only imagine what kind of 'plans' Grell had.
"What could you possibly have to—" He trailed off, eyes catching sight of the blue envelope now slipped into the red reaper's coat pocket. He raised a brow, one hand moving quickly to retrieve the article and examine it before Grell had the chance to realize what had been done.
"Ah! Wait, wait! Give it back Will!" Grell removed his hands, eyes widening as he realized the invitation to the party had been snatched away. He took a swipe, hoping to retrieve it, but it was easily held out of his grasp. Grell whined again, clutching his hands in front of him as if worried William might tear it apart or throw it away upon discovering what it was. He was close. The symbolic family crest of the Phantomhive family was printed upon the envelope and it was clue enough for William to understand what Grell's plans were. He cast a glare at the redhead, incredulous.
"I thought I told you, Grell that you were not allowed to see that demon butler again?" William's voice was short, angered. Grell pouted, crossing his arms defiantly. He knew this would happen, that was why he didn't want William to find the invitation.
"I was just going to pay him a visit, William." Grell protested, voice lowered as he wilted slightly under what he knew was anger, oh but not any anger…jealous anger. Despite himself, Grell's lips twitched to form a small smile.
Riiiip. Grell looked up incredulously as the invitation that William held had been—just as predicted, torn in half.
"Will! How could you?!" Grell reached forward, trying to attain the pieces but they were quickly discarded and out of reach.
"You have a job to do, Sutcliff. Work comes before such foolish affairs." William replied curtly, adjusting his glasses with his hand and moving back to the door out of the office. There was a click and the sound of footsteps heading down the hallway and then silence. Grell kept his eyes focused on the ground, anger and hurt welling up inside of him. Oh, he would do his job all right. And he would finish with just enough time to sneak into the party despite William's warnings to never see that demon butler again.
X x x x X
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" Grell complained loudly, heels clicking loudly against the paved streets of the back alleys of London, signature red coat flying out behind him as he stormed through the streets, chainsaw precariously dangling from one hand slung over his shoulder. He had been searching for several hours now, and he had found no signs of anything amiss. No demons, no dead bodies, not even a soul on the death list! No old man who had reached their prime or some rich old, woman who had one too many bonbons with her afternoon tea. No one was slated to die, no one to reap! And certainly, there were no demons anywhere!
"This is ridiculous! How long do I have to keep searching these streets? I'm going to be late for the party…" Grell whined, looking over the tops of his glasses as he glanced up to the clock tower, gauging the time. It was just after four in the afternoon.
"Bodies or no bodies, I'm going home to get ready—"Grell was stopped abruptly as a woman's scream pierced the air. Green eyes widened and he turned quickly on his heel moving through the streets at an increased speed toward the location of the sound.
He could smell the blood before he saw it but when he did see it, he could tell the entire street had been painted bright crimson. The cobblestone street was covered in the dark liquid; it oozed between the cracks and slowly started towards the gutter as if crawling towards the dim lamplight in the distance. Blood was smeared over the walls as well, it looked like some kind of sharp weapon had been taken to the body several times and none too gently either. From the shadows it was evident that the body was of a woman, though her features could not be discerned as they were torn and beaten beyond recognition. She was slumped against the alley wall like a ragdoll, her head hanging heavily to the side and messy brown hair hanging and matted about her. By the looks of the torn clothes and the dirt that clung to her body she was poor—possibly a prostitute. In fact Grell knew quite well what the prostitutes of London looked like, a motley bunch…but that was far from the point. She wasn't on the death list which meant she had been killed by unnatural means. Even murder victims were on the death list, unless they were murdered by something that was not human.
"Hmm…what the mess." Setting the chainsaw aside with a sigh, Grell moved closer to the body. It was fresh, the blood was still warm, still bright red. "It lacks style, this is just plain messy." He frowned, looking over the scene that had been created. Beautiful, crimson red was everywhere but it was tasteless, there was no real emotion, no drama in the scene. Ah but he was thinking far too much and he had a job to do besides. He leaned closer to the woman, scrunching his nose as he got a look at her face, beaten to a bloody pulp. Why would a demon go through so much trouble? Why all they needed to do was take the victim out quickly, one strike maybe two…humans were so fragile. It was a crime of passion then? But demons were unlike humans that were tied to such feelings of emotion.
Green eyes flickered as he read the spiritual pattern around the woman's body, a faint glowing pattern that resided as long as the soul did and told the world the quality of said soul. However, this woman's soul had been taken, torn precisely…parts of it were still within her body while the majority of it was likely in some demons stomach. It was a terrible thing to do to a soul, painful no doubt and without chance of reincarnation.
"Well then, I'll just reap the remaining parts of your soul and be on my way—" Grell froze, eyes widening as he sensed another presence behind him. His hand twitched and he turned quickly to reach for his chainsaw but someone was quicker and he felt something hard against the back of his skull. He cried out, bleary eyes slowly fading to black as he lost consciousness and fell to the bloodied ground to rest beside the body. There was a chuckle then, and footsteps…
"Oh my, I suppose we can't just leave this thing in the middle of the alley." Two pair of footsteps approached.
"It's quite an eyesore and it's in the way. Remove it at once, Sebastian."
"Yes, My Lord."
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