Chapter 2 is here! Hooray! And on time, too - thought I wasn't going to make it, but I did! ^_^
*cough* anyway, in this chapter, we have... another cameo! Last time, we "met" Elizabeth - who turned out to already be dead. And it turns out there's a serial killer on the lose. Oh, no! What to do?! The Undertaker seems to have an idea...
As always, the link for the slang is as such (this chapter has a lot more slang in it than others, i think, so be ready!): www (dot) tlucretius (dot) net (slash) Sophie (slash) Castle (slash) victorian (underscore) slang (dot) html
Warnings: The usual swearing, minor gore, innuendo, Ciel getting hit on by old guys, BL/shounen-ai, the like.
And thank you everyone who has reviewed so far! Each one is like a ray of sunshine to brighten my day :D Your feedback and comments make this little fanfic-er so very happy!
And so I give to you... CHAPTER 2!
The Undertaker's Apprentice
Ciel ran his shovel into the dirt, burying the coffin in its hole. The Undertaker was not paying attention to the child's work, but was instead looking around the graveyard and frowning. "What's wrong, my lovely?" Grell called down from his perch in the old tree the Undertaker and Ciel were standing under, "You look worried."
"I'm trying to make sure no one sees us!" the Undertaker hissed, "They'll figure us out in no time if they do!"
"Ohh, okay!" Grell nodded, grinning, "I don't think I've seen you this worked up about something before, though. It's kind of cute!"
"You'd be worked up too if your livelihood was on the line because of this!"
Ciel continued to work through the background noise. As always, his work would go unnoticed and he'd return to the shop to continue his life as he'd lived it the past two months. Still, the idea of a serial poisoner haunted him. The girl—Elizabeth—had looked so horrible with her face all distorted and her body folded up in such a sickening position. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get that image out of his head. Ciel finished shoveling dirt into the hole and patted it down. "Done, sir."
The Undertaker looked around and saw the boy's work. "Good," he said, beginning to walk away from the scene, "Come on, you two."
Grell hopped down from the tree and pranced along behind the Undertaker. Ciel turned to the grave, unsure of what to do for this girl. He looked around and found what he needed: a large stone. Heaving with all his might, he dragged the rock over the grave as a marker. It was the least he could do for this poor girl.
"Ciel! Hurry up!"
"Comin', sir." Ciel felt the shape of the pentacle necklace in his pocket as he turned to leave the grave. He'd kept the necklace, yes, but he was not about to sell it any time soon; he was going to figure this mess out.
After Grell left for the day, the Undertaker and Ciel resumed their normal routine. There had been two customers left in front of the shop while they had been out, and the Undertaker was busy cleaning them up and treating them to be buried. Ciel was dusting powder on the old man's face when the Undertaker handed him three crowns. Ciel took the money, not sure what was going on. "Ya want me ta go shoppin'?"
"Why you think I'm giving you money?!" the Undertaker said, "Take this and go to Angela. I need that arsenic replaced."
"Yes, sir." Ciel put the money in his breast pocket and exited the shop. He hurried down the nearly empty street until he came out on a small square. There were some people, making it fairly crowded. Ciel ducked into the crowd and began to make his way across the square to the street where Angela had her dollyshop.
Ciel accidentally bumped into a tall man. Taking advantage of the moment, the boy slipped his hand into the man's pocket and took out his wallet, quickly disappearing into the crowd. He'd been a flimp before he'd started his job of working for the Undertaker; it'd turned into a habit he was not likely to give up easily. Hawking and hoisting had been some of his other money-making schemes, but pickpocketing had been his favorite and best trade.
Ciel turned down a street leading off the square and ducked into a doorway, where he opened the wallet. Ten pounds and three shillings. Not bad at all. The boy tucked the money into his breast pocket with the money from the Undertaker and set off in search of Angela's shop.
He traveled down the twisting and turning alleyways, each street narrower than the last, until he came out on an almost empty street. The only people Ciel could see was a group of old geezers playing some gambling game and a young woman wandering the street. Ciel walked by the men's gathering, ignoring them.
One of the men, obviously drunk, turned around in his seat when the boy passed by. "'ow much, ladybird?"
"Bugger off, gegor."
"Oh! So's the kid wants ta haggle?" The man got up and took a few steps toward Ciel. The boy kept walking, not turning around to face the men. Angela's pawnshop was nearby; he could get there in time before these men tried anything.
"'ey! We aksed ya ta get o'er 'ere!" another man called, "We'll give ya tol's a cash! 'ow's five pound sound?"
"Sounds like ya could use someone's foot up your arse," Ciel muttered, "it'd keep ya from stickin' yer jewels up others'."
"Wha ya jus' say ta me, boy?!"
Ciel broke into a run, tearing down the street with the men in hot pursuit yelling and screaming horrible curses. The boy dashed past the woman and around a corner, where he stopped to catch his breath. The men did not seem to be following him anymore. He dared a peek around the corner and saw they had been distracted by the woman, who looked to be a ladybird looking for customers. Ciel ducked behind the wall and snuck away fast before the men could remember about their original target.
Angela's shop was an odd place. It was a pawnshop, so it was obviously going to be a little off and eccentric, but Angela's in particular was especially different, Ciel had noticed. She sold everything an eleven-year-old could think of, plus a few things he had never seen before. There were spices and statues all the way from India, some trinkets from the Americas, and even some black market items if you knew how to ask properly. Ciel reached the small shop nestled between a tavern and an apartment house and went inside.
"Ciel! 'ow's my fav'rite vis'tor doin'?" Angela greeted in her thick accent, "why'd ya disappear so long? Ya get nibbed?"
Ciel shook his head. He had not been arrested. "Nope. Still been workin' at that Undertaker's place."
"Oh, 'im? Heard strange things 'bout tat man," Angela said, "is 'e odd?"
Ciel nodded. "Pretty odd. 'e 'as a scar runnin' 'cross 'is face, an' 'is hair 'ides 'is eyes."
The white haired woman leaned back in her creaky chair. "Good ta know yer doin' somethin' right proper, Ciel. Mos' chavys yer age 're workin' fer kidsmen 'r they end up in the brothels. Not a place fer yew, boy." Ciel remained silent, letting the woman finish her brief lecture. When Angela had allowed her words to sink in, she propped up her elbows on the armrests of her chair and folded her hands. "What ya got fer me? 'r what ya wanna buy?"
Ciel looked around the shop. "Undertaker needs arsenic," he said. Then he paused and looked at his shoes in shame. "I dropped his last jar."
"Ah, 'appens to the best o' us," Angela said, getting up from the secondhand armchair and walking around the shop, "I think I 'ave arsenic in 'ere somewhere...."
Ciel waited patiently as the woman looked for what he needed; no one but Angela herself had any idea where things were in this shop or how they were organized. He remembered the necklace in his pocket. "Ah, Angela?"
"Yes?"
Ciel took the pentacle necklace out of his pocket and walked over to the woman, dangling it in front of her. "'ave any ideas what this is?"
Angela took the necklace and ran the chain through her fingers, holding it up to the light of a candle and turning it in a number of angles. "It's real gold," she said, "got yerself quite the prize, Ciel."
"Ya sure?"
Angela stuck the necklace in the boy's face. "Bite it an' see."
Ciel turned his face away. "Why? I'm the one aksen' you ta test it."
"I would ne'er put somethin' so unholy in me mouth."
Ciel rolled his eyes at the woman's devout Christianity. She was probably the most religious person he knew. It was a surprise that she was even touching this pagan necklace to begin with. Ciel took the necklace and bit down hard on it. The pentacle came away with slight dent marks in it. "Aw, now it's bent."
"Ya should know this bet'er than anyun," Angela said, "Gold's soft. Ya can bite it if it's pure enough."
Ciel nodded. "Yess'm. I 'member that."
Angela looked at the necklace in the boy's hand again. "ya goin' ta sell that ta me?"
Ciel pocketed the jewelry, much to Angela's dismay. "Nah. I was goin' ta aks ya 'bout the symbol. Some pagan thing, right?"
"Pentacle," Angela said, mouth forming around the word like it was a bug she had just swallowed, "the symbol fer the pagans."
"What's it mean?"
"Tol's a things," the woman said, shrugging, "first off, it can mean the whole bein'. The body surrounded by the soul keepin' it together. It can be a protection amulet, too."
Ciel listened, trying to see how this fit into the incident with Elizabeth Middleton. He got the feeling that the necklace was a part of the reason Elizabeth had been killed. But then, why had the murderer not stolen it, and instead left it with her corpse after she died? Angela turned around and resumed her search for the arsenic. Finding it, she handed it to him. Ciel paid her the three crowns the Undertaker had given him earlier.
The boy turned and exited the dollyshop, calling over his shoulder, "Thanks, Angela."
"Make sure ta work hard at the Undertaker's!" Angela called after him, "Wouldn' wan' ta see ya end up workin' fer the kidsmen!"
Ciel disregarded the woman's last word of advice to him as the door swung shut behind him. He had always worked independently when he still lived in the rookery; he'd hate to stoop to the level of his peers and end up working for some man who took away most of his earnings at the end of the day. He'd worked hard for what he earned, so why should someone else have the right to take it away?
The boy ran down the street, looking around in search of the drunken men who had been chasing him earlier. Finding no trace of them, Ciel ducked down another alley and made his way back to the Undertaker's shop.
...because Ciel was made to be hit on by older guys and be creeped on by every character in the series. Next chapter out on October 23, and maybe, just maybe, there will be an appearance of a certain red-eyed bishounen... See you all in a week!