CHAPTER 2

"Uh… are you sure this is a good moment, Mr. Undertaker?" Grell whined, extracting himself reluctantly out of the carriage. The question itself was undoubtedly meant to hold deeper meaning, but the pathetic whimper in which it actually resulted failed to deliver the respective message entirely. He morosely shrunk and shivered as his long coat got almost instantly drenched under the pouring icy rain.

"Why honestly I couldn't think of a better moment, Grell. Especially since our client expects an early delivery. To be more precise, tomorrow morning," his companion confirmed with his ever present good humor as he tossed aside the reins and hopped down onto the muddy ground. He then proceeded to pull out a shovel from the bag of tools kept handy under the front seat and gave it to the red haired shinigami. Grell sighed and peeked over his wet glasses at the gloomy looking graveyard unfolding beyond the large iron gates. "Shit, dirty job and it pays shit too!" he grumbled under his breath.

"It pays better than your own, at any rate, my friend," the other pointed, picking up his own shovel and briefly patting the horse's back, "and I suppose there are dirtier jobs out there, for folks like us who'd do anything for a penny…"

Grell said nothing in reply, only gritting his teeth helpless at his own misery as he followed his senior associate. There was no one in sight ahead – and really, who could have been there at that hour - so they took the main alley, walking in silence for a short while. It was pitch dark under the clouded winter sky and nothing but the incessant rain, threatening to turn into sleet. It couldn't have been worse a weather to be out working, but the Undertaker was of course as careless as if walking into a sunny afternoon, humming a soft tune that successfully stepped onto the other shinigami's nerves. Not to mention, anyone else but him would have lost his way in the intricate labyrinth of resting places, but he had no problem whatsoever. After all, he knew too well where he'd buried the merchandise.

"Gah, how annoying!" the silver haired shinigami suddenly exclaimed, stopping abruptly. He then quickly slid behind a large stone monument, pulling Grell to the side with one forceful motion and causing him to squeak and drop his shovel. "Be quiet, damn it!"

"What? What is it, Mr. Undertaker?" the other demanded, already cowering and visibly frightened.

"Pffffttt…" the Undertaker dug into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out a bone shaped biscuit and stuffing it into the corner of his mouth. "If there's one thing I truly find shitty about my job, then it is definitely all this exasperating drama!" he said shaking his head.

Grell eventually poked his head to the side and saw someone crouched over a nearby tombstone. The fragile, black clad petite frame trembled slightly as the girl sobbed, rain soaked blonde curls hanging loosely over her doll like face. "Why it's… Lady Elizabeth! What is she doing here at this hour? It's almost midnight! And in such dreadful weather!" he whispered in utter surprise. His rhetorical question remained unanswered as his companion shrugged and busied himself with another biscuit.

"Uh… I have to ask again, Mr. Undertaker, are you absolutely sure that this is a good idea?" Grell reiterated his persistent concern. "I mean nobody's done this before… And the poor girl, I mean he was her fiancée after all… so it seems rather unfair under the circumstances and-"

"If by 'nobody has done this before' you mean yourself, then you can stick to that statement Grell," the other shinigami interrupted him rolling his eyes, "and as for the circumstances you mentioned, as you well know death is the end of all engagements, marriages and other such sinister deals, so to put it bluntly she has no more contractual rights in this matter."

"Wha- ! How can you be so insensitive!?" the redhead protested, but the Undertaker waved his hand in dismissal. "Stupid little girl, leave already, we don't have all night! What the hell?" he then grumbled with a scowl, tapping his foot impatient. "Grell, get rid of her!"

The silver haired shinigami cast the shovel aside with a huff and brushed the remaining dirt from the lid with the back of his hand, before it would turn rapidly into mud as well. Everything was intact. He took a break from his work, pulling off his dirty gloves and tossing them aside.

"Oh… so here goes nothing, huh?" his associate mused out loud from the side, peeking over his shoulder.

"You sure took your time, Grell. What the hell did you do exactly? Which part of 'we're under a tight schedule' did you not understand?" the Undertaker scolded him. "You know that this is not it, the process will take some time as well! I do have a reputation to maintain, so quality must come first. I won't cut any corners with this one"

"Well I'm sorry, Mr. Undertaker, but I had to make sure that Lady Elizabeth got home safely… even though she'll probably be clueless of how she got there, or maybe she'll have no memory of tonight at all… Ah!" The redhead gasped as his companion pulled a small phial out of his pocket and held it up.

"Well how chivalrous of you, Grell," the other observed ironically, "now why don't you hop in and join the fun?" he invited with a polite gesture. The red haired shinigami obeyed reluctantly, with a look of disgust as his long coat made contact with the muddy hole. He picked up the Undertaker's abandoned shovel and smashed it with full force against the coffin's joints until they gave way. His hands then moved to push the lid aside, slowly, almost with unneeded gentleness. The sight that met his eyes was at least unsettling and it became even more so as the rain began to soak the object of their toil, dampening the late Earl Phantomhive's dainty dark hair, large droplets splashing and sliding down like bitter tears onto his porcelain face.

"Oh, Mr. Undertaker, this will end badly!" he whined suddenly, palms pressed pathetically against his chest. "What if you-know-who will find out? What then? Oh my, it will be terrible, terrible!"

The silver haired shinigami clicked his tongue in annoyance and grumbled something insulting while pushing Grell out of the way, and he stooped above his prey. "Now stop bugging me and just hold his head like this, will you?" Maneuvering the small, fragile looking body was something that Grell was even less willing to do – I mean doing this to someone you knew, really, how awful! – but he had no choice. The Undertaker's long nailed fingers carefully parted the pale lips while his other thumb flicked the phial's cork open.

"Thaaaat's it, bottoms up, tehehehe…" he chuckled as the blue iridescent liquid –if that was indeed what that thing was - was gradually drained from the recipient. His grin grew even wider as a few moments later a light steam was emitted into the cold air when his prey drew his first breath.

"Oh, my!" Grell could not fight back a gasp of surprise.

Exhausted and chagrined after the horrid night, Grell sighed again, vigorously wiping his glasses. The Undertaker was humming that annoying tune again, while preparing his tools, and the redhead shuddered at the sight of the needles. "I almost find it hard to believe that Bassy's not here – I'd really gotten used to him…" he mused, just to take his mind off the present situation. "I bet he's upset and bored, wherever he may be…"

"I wouldn't worry, he won't be bored for long I daresay," his associate snickered. "As a matter of fact I'm sure-" The Undertaker was interrupted when a sudden noise of breaking glass alerted him. "What do you know, looks like our guest is finally awake!"

His head swam in dizziness as his vision gradually cleared, allowing the boy to take in his surroundings. It was like waking from a long, deep sleep full of bad dreams that had taken its toll on his worn body. His flesh felt cold and painful in the still soaked clothing, the leather straps tightly secured over his chest and stomach, as well as the cuffs around his wrists and ankles only adding to the discomfort. Well, if this wasn't a rude awakening, in the Undertaker's laboratory no less. Indeed, Ciel would have recognized that place anytime, disturbing as it was.

Just what the hell happened to me? Why am I here?

The boy kicked his right leg in annoyance, despite the restraints, managing to knock over a jar that had been left carelessly at his feet at the end of the cold, metal table. The startling noise instantly cut the conversation he could distinguish in the adjacent room. One of the voices had unmistakably been the Undertaker's, and the other was… Grell?

"Ah, little earl, still troublesome, are you?" The silver haired shinigami chuckled shaking his head, as he pushed the shards away with his foot and stooped over Ciel with a large grin.

"What is the meaning of this, Undertaker? Release me!" the boy spat in reply, struggling to keep up a confident façade. But something was definitely wrong, otherwise he and Grell would have never dared to- Wait! Sebastian's not here! But… why? "If you don't want to suffer the consequences, you will let me go at once!"

"Right, about that… I think there is a little detail that we need to clarify before anything else," the Undertaker answered the one question that had been left unasked, by rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a small mirror. He held it up right above Ciel's face. "Look carefully, milord…"

Ciel involuntarily flinched at the sight of his own reflection – his face was unusually pale, even for his complexion, and there were deep dark circles around his eyes, making the color stick out in an odd manner. And there was something else about his eyes as well… The seal! It's gone! Terror instantly filled the young earl upon the realization, his mind reeling in search for an explanation. But there was none, unless…

"You're dead, young master," the Undertaker explained calmly, as if it were the most common thing in the world, "And since there's no more contract, nobody will be coming for you now. You belong to me."

Ciel blinked – it didn't make any sense. Dead? That just can't be, can't be! Yet the seal is gone… "What do you mean, 'I belong to you'? Even without Sebastian, you can't claim me just like that!" he shouted. "The-.. My servants will be looking for me! My fiancée will be looking for me!"

At his words the silver haired shinigami burst into laughter, and even Grell allowed himself a snicker. "Well see, that's the thing earl, precisely because you're dead no one will be looking for you! And you can't blame them, really… why would they? Who would have any use for you now? You're a corpse and I've simply resurrected you, just like I do all my puppets," the Undertaker lied, pointing at the several closed coffins scattered around the room. "See I make good money from selling pretty dead things like you to willing customers – especially down in Underworld, where folks ain't particularly picky, hehehe!"

"This is ridiculous! You can't genuinely expect me to believe this!" Ciel gritted his teeth, struggling against the binds and holding up the defiant act, although he had already understood too well that he was done with. Damn it! What do they really want with me? There was nothing worse than the unknown.

"To be honest, I neither expect nor do I care whether you believe me or not." the body snatcher waved his hand carelessly as he proceeded to fumble in one of his cabinets. "Grell, I will need you to hold him down, you know we can't afford any accidents." The redhead acted without delay, pressing down his torso over Ciel's, while one of his hands covered the boy's mouth and held his head still. The Undertaker extracted one thinner needle from his sinister collection and promptly used to pierce the earl's right earlobe. He then picked up something that looked very much like a metal, skull shaped earring bud, and inserted it right in the still oozing wound.

"You know, I normally use such a device to give my puppets 'some energy', but it looks like you have too much already, milord," the shinigami explained as he worked, "so this will fix our problem." he added motioning for Grell to step away.

Ciel wanted to scream – the pain irradiating from the accursed earring into his skull was horrible – but found himself only able to let out something like a coarse, faint groan. As his limbs gradually became limp and lifeless, his thoughts slowed as well. This… is not… real. It… must be… a nightmare… The other shinigami unfastened the leather straps from around his body, and removed the cuffs as well. Not that it did any good, his body would simply lie there, still as death. Not again… not this again… the earl murmured inwardly as the Undertaker busied himself to remove all his clothing, adding the discomforting sensation of the cold metal against his damp skin. Ciel briefly wondered with sick curiosity whether the Undertaker would attempt anything… improper, but the shinigami was a professional. Grell turned away, averting his gaze, and walked to the other room when his associate began sticking the silver needles of various girths and lengths into Ciel's body. The pain only got worse as his ankles, knees, wrists, shoulders, as well as various points on his torso were mercilessly pierced.

"What are you doing to me?" the boy whispered, eyes tearing from the torment he could not even let out.

"Well, milord, I'm afraid that your little body may be cute and dainty and all, but it is quite useless. Therefore to prepare you for the purpose I have to make some improvements…" The undertaker interrupted his ministrations to wipe away Ciel's tears with a clean cloth, and sighed. "Oh, I know it hurts, but we have to… It'll pass soon, and you will go back to sleep"

Will… go… back… to sleep… I will… go… back… to sleep… Those were the young earl's last thoughts before everything went black once more.

To be continued…