A lone figure passed silently through the empty streets of London. A lady dressed in white, a single lily stuck in her golden bun. Her crimson lips parted into a glistening, devilish smile. She was set on her goal with her yellow and green eyes no longer hidden, no longer trapped behind the glasses of a reaper. She had fallen from grace. Her shoes left echoes in the vacant space around her as she made her way to her target.

Click, clack. Click, clack.

She saw her target. A dull but terrifying building with a sign above the door that simply stated 'Undertaker' stood just across the street from her. She knocked gently on the wooden door before entering, slipping in with cat like gracefulness. "Undie, are you here?" She called out with such a sweet, lovely voice the angels in heaven would be envious. She looked around for his cookies. "I just came to talk. I can imagine you would like some living people every now and then."

"Now why do you think that, my dear?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. She had gotten used to her blurry vision and it seemed to somehow get better over long periods of time. "I would be perfectly content by myself and my dear customers. And would you please drop the act." Undertaker was now sitting on a coffin in front of her, munching on a bone shaped cookie. "Innocence doesn't suit you, not at all." The silver haired man giggled slightly at his statement.

"Shaddup, you old fart. I just came to visit a friend, that's all. If you want, I can leave." She smirked when he held out a cookie to her. She sat beside him and nibbled. "So, anything interesting?" Her feet were swinging like a child's does when they are too excited.

"You should know. You still have his blood under your nails." He giggled at her again. He took the flower out of her hair, holding it up to her face. You chose a fitting flower for the symbol of your crimes; I've noticed you wear them in your hair after you kill. And also, why do you always come here afterwards?" He took off his hat and lifted his hair out of his eyes, knowing the effect he had on the woman.

"I… I just like to be here. It makes me feel less alone." She started to cry.

"Isabel…" He reached for his hat and placed it on her head. She looked up at him and smiled in a pathetic manner. He smiled back in a way that was only terrifying because it was full of such kindness. The kindness that is unthinkable for a man like him to have. He heard another knock on the door, either a new customer or…

"Undertaker, I need to ask you something about our new… Who's that woman?" It was a boy's voice that could only belong to the Queen's guard dog himself, Ciel Phantomhive. The short boy walked in and looked over Isabel.

"I see you're on the case then. My name is Isabel; I know your name though. Earl Ciel Phantomhive." She took Undertaker's hat off and gave it back to him. "You and that demon butler of yours…" She glared at them with her reaper's eyes. "It's impossible not to know who you are. Don't worry; I want to keep the peace…" At that, Undertaker burst out laughing.

The round eyes of the ex-reaper turned into a squint, her brilliantly colored lips twisted into a snarling frown. "Really, now isn't the time!" She turned away from the cackling man and put her hand on the butler's chest. "Last time I saw him, Grell was going on about you. Looks to be he was not going overboard with how handsome you are, Sebastian." She smirked up at him.

"Just tell us about this case, Undertaker." Ciel impatiently ordered.

"No need, I can. Seven victims, all men, all found on a bed, all stabbed repeatedly. Harsh, quick blows to the chest. The killer must've had fun." She held her face in her hands, smiling softly with her head tilted slightly to the left. "If I recall, they still held the same handsome facial features… Hehe…" When Isabel looked back to the boy in front of her, she realized that too much had slipped and he was suspicious of her.

"How do you know so much?"

"I just do. You aren't the only one with sources, boy. Don't forget that!" The unease was obvious in her voice now. The room was starting to spin. She had to get out of there soon or…

"Wait, I have a solution. I will make sure she is a good girl and keep my eye on her. Isabel, you will stay with me. Just give her a chance, please? I'll owe you one." Undertaker spoke up for her.

With a sigh, Ciel walked out. "I have my eyes on you. One mistake and you know what will happen." Then he was gone. The lights started to flicker, or was it her vision? The world seemed to tumble around her. The next thing Isabel knew, Undertaker had her in his arms. She allowed herself to slip away from her consciousness for a while.


"Can I help you?" A young man asked a hunched figure on the street. It was a woman dressed in white. Her hair was as golden as the sun's light, and as straight as an arrow. Her lips were crimson colored, contrasting with her beautiful snow-white skin. She looked like a doll.

The woman spoke in a light, innocent tone that sounded like a woodwind instrument. Not too low but not unbearably high pitched. "I… I have no place to stay tonight. Could you help me?" The man could not refuse her; he was entranced by her beauty. He held out his hand and brought the woman home, not even asking her name, simply thrilled to be close to this woman.

"Get a bath if you need, I hope you are hungry. Dinner will be done shortly." He led her to the tub. It was simple, but it got the job done. When she got out they ate a meal together. "I only have one bed though…" He cursed at himself for not thinking of this earlier.

She smiled sweetly. "I don't mind bunking with you." He blushed, making her giggle. "If it makes you feel better I'll tell you my name is Isabel. What would yours be? We should at least know each other's names." He blushed even deeper.

He ran a hand through his scraggly black hair. "Joseph." His gaze never met hers, focusing on the lace that clung to her breasts like a second skin. He wanted to uncover those small but luscious looking beauties, to see what was beneath the delicate fabric of her white dress. "Are you tired at all?" He asked.

"Yes, may we head to the bedroom?" Isabel asked politely, batting her eyelids.

They got to his room and he lay down on the bed. She took her dress off and got on top of him. "What…" She pushed her lips onto his. "Mmmmh!" He moaned when she began to rub his pants. He managed to break free from the kiss. "What the hell are you doing?!" He screamed at her.

"I figured by the way you looked at me, you would like this." She frowned. "Or… Do you enjoy leading women on like this?" He shut his eyes tightly. "Well, I'll tell you, silence is a yes. A guilty plea." She pulled a tiny knife from inside her undergarments. Wildly grinning, she brought the blade down to the spot where his right lung was hiding beneath his flesh, then the left lung. He tried to scream but could only gurgle. His blood filled his collapsing lungs as the crazed woman on top of him kept jamming the knife into his chest, creating red blooms of dark blood. "Hehehe… It's like rain, only hot!" She commented on the feel of his blood spraying on her face as if she were some demented child. Once she was done she washed the blood off and got back into her dress. Calm and collected, she walked out the door to head for the one man she truly trusted.