AN/ This is a VERY dark and bloody CrackFic alternate ending to my own story, starting after Chapter 43 of 'Wading Into the Unknown'. This is for you bloodthirsty folk who want to see Thomas come to no good end. This will contain graphic violence. If that is not your thing, you should not read this and simply stick to the main path. If you laughed all the way through Pulp Fiction, this might just be for you, you sick puppy.

This was born from a PM discussion with GraysonSteele and from the fact that I am woefully underusing Mrs. Butte (played by Imelda Staunton) in my main fic. It's like bringing Shirley Maclaine in for the Christmas Special and then using her like set dressing instead of an actress. (oh, wait…)

This will be light on the Chelsie early on (for reasons that will soon become obvious), but they will make an appearance in the climactic final chapters.

If you have not been reading 'Wading Into the Unknown', it's only 40 some odd chapters, so get cracking. Or, read this little synopsis that will tell you just enough to enjoy this bit of weirdness.

Warning: This is going to be bloody! [In case the title did not clue you in.]

PREVIOUSLY ON 'Wading Through Blood' [aka 'Wading Into the Unknown' Chapters 1-43]::

May/June 1923- After the canon events of the 2013 CS, Carson and Mrs. Hughes have discovered their mutual feelings and are engaged to be married. Thomas is an ass who is trying to drive Carson to early retirement and has also threatened to blackmail the family if he does not get his way. Thomas has tricked Mrs. Butte into helping him convince Lord G. that Carson is not entirely healthy.

Carson is currently in a health clinic and Mrs. Hughes is on her way back to Downton with Ivy, Daisy and Jimmy. Lady Mary is the only member of the family who knows the heads of household are engaged.

Lucille fumed in her room. She had been played by that scheming, slimy under butler. Now, Mr. Carson was gone; sentenced to who knows how long in a health clinic. Lucille knew she had played her part in condemning him to this fate, but she bitterly regretted it now. Anna had explained Thomas' power play to Mrs. Butte the afternoon after Mr. Carson's departure. She had offered to go directly to His Lordship and own her betrayal, but Anna had stopped her. "We don't want to tip our hand yet, Mrs. Butte. It could help us to have Mr. Barrow thinking you are still on his side."

If she had any hope that Mr. Carson might forgive her, Lucille was going to have to take steps to prove her devotion. Most of the household were resisting Mr. Barrow's leadership out of loyalty to Mr. Carson. Lucille knew that she would have to appear to support Mr. Barrow in order to deceive him into thinking she was still on his side. Anna had not let Mrs. Butte know the full story behind Mr. Barrow's plotting, but she read enough between the lines to know that he was threatening the family. The only thing that really concerned her was that he was threatening Mr. Carson.

We've ways of dealing with the likes of him, don't we, love? She asked her reflection. A familiar dark smile answered her. It had been years since she'd needed to call on that Darkness; not since Mr. Butte's unfortunate accident.

-00-

Mr. Carson had been gone less than a week when Lucille saw her first opportunity to show her devotion.

Mr. Levinson had decided that the continent was not for him. He and Mrs. Levinson were headed back to America soon and would be stopping briefly at Grantham House. Planning to travel with them to America, Ivy had returned to London to await her future employer. Ivy was a harmless moron in Lucille's opinion, but when her first act upon returning to Grantham House had been to report to Mr. Barrow and deliver a letter from James, Lucille decided to take more interest in the girl.

Mrs. Butte was aware of the sordid history between Barrow and James. She found it odd that the two men were now friends. If Thomas had a weakness, it might be in his friendship with Mr. Kent. A day after Ivy had returned, Mrs. Butte was able to corner her in the laundry room.

"I trust you left all well in Yorkshire?"

"Huh?"

"James sent Mr. Barrow a note. I wondered if there was anything amiss at Downton."

"Oh, I think Jimmy were just sending a friendly note to Mr. Barrow."

"Odd how chummy they are, considering their past."

"What do you mean?"

Lucille rolled her eyes. This girl was hopeless; best to take the direct approach. "I mean Mr. Barrow kissing James against his will."

"He what now? You should not be spreading such rumors, Mrs. Butte." Ivy was scandalized.

"Not rumors, girl. In fact, if I could get my hands on that note, I could probably prove it to you. It was likely a love letter."

"But Jimmy likes women. He tried something funny with me once."

"Naïve girl, just because he liked you doesn't mean he doesn't like Thomas as well. You'd better wise up before you head to America or they'll eat you alive. Now, where is that letter?"

"Mr. Barrow keeps all his private correspondence locked up. I saw him put the letter away myself."

"Where does he keep it?" Lucille did not dare to hope…

"Bottom right drawer of the butler's desk." Ivy blurted out.

Lucille smiled darkly. It seemed fate was on her side. There was not a desk or door in this house for which she did not have a key. "Oh. If it's locked up, then it is beyond me. Oh, well." She swept out of the room, leaving a confused Ivy behind her. Not that the girl is ever not confused, Mrs. Butte thought to herself.

The next few days were a blur as the Americans arrived and prepared to leave again. Very late, the night before their departure Mrs. Butte was surprised to find herself confronted by Ivy in the kitchen.

"You took Mr. Barrow's letters." The girl accused.

"I beg your pardon?" Mrs. Butte batted her eyes in what she considered an innocent way.

"Mr. Barrow accused me of taking Jimmy's letters from his desk, but I never did. I've been thinking about it. It must have been you. You were interested in those letters."

"Was I? I don't recall that."

"You were. And you knew where they were kept."

"And how did I know that?" Mrs. Butte asked her, pointedly.

"I told you. You must remember." But her confidence faltered.

"Perhaps I do." Mrs. Butte shrugged.

"I shall tell Mr. Barrow."

"You mean you didn't mention it to him yet?"

"Not yet, but I've a mind…"

"I doubt that very much."

"What?"

Enjoying herself, Lucille raised her voice and spoke very clearly. "I don't think you've a mind of any sort, girl. In fact, I think you are a fool. You will likely be a failure in America. You're best not even going."

Tears welled in Ivy's eyes. "Why would you say that?"

"I feel it is better to know the harsh truths of life before you ruin yourself with false hopes. Take it from me; there is nothing more painful than false hopes." Her eyes darkened, causing the young kitchen maid to back away from the shorter woman. But Mrs. Butte's expression changed in a flash, "But then all hope is false until it comes true."

"I…I suppose so." Ivy stammered as the tears began to fall. She was more unsettled by Mrs. Butte's smile than she had been by her dark stare.

"I am sorry if I upset you, Ivy. I should not have said anything. Pay me no mind." That should be easy. "Here, let me get you a cool cloth for your eyes. You can't show up for the boat train with puffy eyes." She stepped past Ivy and took a cloth from beside the sink. Mrs. Butte wet the cloth and dabbed at the girl's red eyes.

"There now." She soothed.

After a few moments, Ivy's sobbing subsided. Ivy leaned over the sink to wet the cloth anew. Quick as lightening, Mrs. Butte brought a heavy, cast iron skillet down onto the back of the girl's head, killing her instantly.

"Oops." Lucille giggled as she pushed the body upon the drain board. She hummed as she set to work. Lucille was glad Mrs. Patmore was so particular about keeping her knives sharp. She was also grateful her father had taught her his trade of butchering even though she was only a girl. Lucille was quite gifted and had been very handy in Mr. Butte's business until he had hit her one too many times.

As she went methodically about her business, Lucille hoped there was enough fresh sage in the pantry.

-00-

"Have you seen Ivy, Mrs. Butte?" Anna asked with concern.

"Not since last night." Lucille smiled sweetly. "Perhaps she has already gone ahead. Are her things gone?"

"Yes." Anna admitted, though her curiosity was not sated.

"There you are. She'll meet them at the train or the boat, I dare say."

"Yes, I dare say. It's just very unlike Ivy not to say goodbye."

This one is too smart by half, the Darkness thought.

But she is on our side, Lucille reminded herself. For now.

TBC…

A/N I know this is rather dark, but it really is meant to be rather funny (in an absurdist, dark way). Did I mention that Mrs. Butte is bonkers in this? And I wanted to give her free rein.

This is largely inspired by Imelda Staunton's West End stint as Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd, and yes, I am going to 'go there', so if references to cannibalism gross you out, you should not progress any further.

FYI, updates will not be as regular as the main story, but should be about every other day.

BTW, I am taking requests for who to off…the list is growing quite long. I think Lord G. will be saying, 'Not another one' quite a lot. Reviews will determine how far this experiment goes on. I have at least 3 chapters, but can probably do 10 pretty easily. It's all up to you guys. Is this just to crazy to continue?