Chapter 2: The Strangest Stranger

Kicked out and sore Oblivia now faced the world. She was thankful deep down for still being able to breathe and walk. No that wasn't it, more like a limp here and a hop there. Sebastian had beaten her ass pretty damn good. While she prowled the dark streets, illuminated by the waning moon she felt the presence. Her head snapped up, no it couldn't be! It had to be! What Oblivia was sensing was the presence of another reaper. "Grell? William? Ronald?" Anticipation, yearning, then suddenly it was all gone! It took a few desolate minutes for her to recognize that it was just her standing all alone in the dark streets of London.

"Why do I even bother?" Sitting down on the cement steps of a musty smelling building she had assumed was vacant, she was hit by that damned feeling again. No way! Struggling for support she saw a dim light inside the building she had once thought was vacant, candlelight! Surely this store had a name! Taking a few paces back Oblivia was able to make out the Gothic Styled word carved into the wood. "The Undertaker." Oblivia knew exactly what an Undertaker was and had dreamt of being one after her retirement; instead she had become a servant to the young Phantomhive.

Spoiled brat. He made Alois Trancy look nice. Looking back at the window she could make out boxes, lots and lots of boxes, but these weren't boxes. Squinting her eyes she noticed several coffins laid out upon the wooden floor, each with a cross engraved on the lid, how nice. Walking up the cement steps she paused, hesitated then rapped lightly on the door. "Hello…Anyone here?" There was a brief moment of silence that ran shivers up Oblivia's back, for an Undertakers shop it felt more sinister then in needed to. No one was answering. Smart ass.

If no was going to answer her then she'd have to answer them. Turning the door knob the door flew open as if a gust of wind had just swept by, but she knew there was no wind, she knew it must have been something else that had whipped the door open. Setting one foot inside the shop she stiffened as the old floor boards creaked nosily under her feet, when she had stepped about approximately 5 steps in the door wavered, then slammed shut with a loud bang. The room was suddenly illuminated by candlelight and eerie shadow bounced off the walls as if they were dancing.

Skeletons, bones and coffins lay strewn all over the floor, preserved organs were stuffed in jars and diagrams of the human anatomy were plastered all over the walls. Then as if by magic, a cold wind swept through the shop and blew out all but one candle. The candlelight was centred on a tall coffin, the lid slightly ajar, was someone inside this coffin? Her patience had grown thin enough and she had, had enough these childish games for quite the time being. "If anybody's in there please come out or be executed by the great Oblivion Jones." She pulled out her death scythe and pointed it at the coffin; the large blade of the samurai sword was as sharp as it had been several millenniums ago. "That's an order."

"An order?" Came a raspy voice from within the coffin. "People just aren't fun these days." The lid to the coffin slowly slid open and a face poked out, who was this guy? And it was crazy enough that he slept in a coffin. "What is it you want dearie?" His gray hair covered his face, hiding his mysterious eyes. That bugged her the most, how would she know the guy if she couldn't completely see his face?

It didn't matter right now, what mattered was finding out if he indeed was the other reaper she had been sensing. "Please." He paused to look her way; there were a few moments of silence and just staring before he continued talking. "Take a seat." He pulled out a chair from the small table and gestured towards it. He chuckled as she sat down his shoulders rising up and down. "Now." He laced his fingers together in front of him, smiling widely, a string of drool slid slowly out the side of his mouth. "What is it you wanted to see me for?" He looked at her through his thick hair, his smile never fading.

She studied him closely, this guy was acting rather, strange, mysterious, and she began to wonder if he even wanted to be found out. Clearing her throat in the loudest way she could she snapped her eyes back to the curtain of hair that covered his eyes. "Yes, well." She cupped her hands on her lap. "I've come here to ask you." She paused short to see him chewing on something, a clear puddle formed on the table and the drool dripped slowly down onto the wooded surface. Oblivia gritted her teeth, nearly gnashing them together, why wasn't he listening to her?

He noticed her almost at once, it took a few painful minutes for him to respond but he slowly set the small jar aside and smiled wider than ever. "Sorry bout that m'dear." He giggled. Oblivia sneered, the side of her mouth lifting up in disgust, this guy couldn't be! No he wasn't! "Did I upset you?" He asked as the sides of his mouth drooped. He had done more than upset her, he enraged her, and the fact that he was un-clean, un-kept and un-recognizable bugged her more than anything.

"Upset me?" Oblivia laughed almost coldly. "No, no." Her forcefully playful tone turned sinister and aggressive. And he remained calm and content, her attitude and demeanor hadn't fazed him at all. "Why?" She paused to look at him, his smile returned to his face and the string of drool remained at the side of his mouth. "Why aren't you listening to what I have to say? Can you even hear me?" She almost pleaded for answers.

"Oh my hearing hasn't gone yet m'dear." He responded nonchalantly. "It's still as good as it was millenniums ago."