A/N: I must thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. You don't know how happy it makes me when I get the emails, especially when I'm at work (40 hours a week at the hospital drains me; but at least my position lets me write my stories, so I can't complain too much) I do apologize that this chapter took a little longer to update. Between the lady being out this week who does my pre-certification for test had been out so I was super swamped with calling insurances to the point the moment I would get home, I'd crash until 5am the next day and I'd been sick for a few days. So, thankfully she came back today and I could relax and be able to finish this chapter tonight ^-^
Ana: Oh yes, he has many things planned for the sweet Sapphira; though there are a few things that he may not be…prepared for as time goes on haha.
Teddy Bear Moony: You aren't wrong there~ We all know how our Undertaker can be…a bit unpredictable. Guess we'll just have to wait and see~ ^_~
Also, I realized I had accidently uploaded the previous chapter. Totally my bad. So, I deleted that and re-uploaded the correct chapter so that way it notified everyone. My apologies on the matter!
A Dark Angel is set on fire
With burning love and desire
This feeling she never knew before
Yet her mind is asking for more
Rotten and dark she is inside
A fallen angel of the night
She curses for the feeling she calls Love
It makes her feel like an Angel from above
Yet her heart holds it light
Because that's what comforts her through the night
This fallen that you see
Is the soul that hides inside me.
"Undertaker?"
"Yes, dearie~"
"May I ask, what exactly are you doing?"
It's been nearly a month since the fateful night that the Undertaker had found Sapphira lying unconscious in the snow-covered alley way after her fall from heaven. She was broken; her wings had been torn from her body, her soul was plunged into darkness, her mind wiped clean of all her memories, and her heart shattered in millions of pieces. She was an angel who had fallen from the heavens, doomed to live in hell for all of eternity, but by some divine force, she landed in between the two. Was it out of mercy? Was it out of luck? Was it out of hatred? What caused her downfall? Was it her lust for curiosity and for her heart to beat with pure excitement? What she was curious for? So many questions, so little answers. Yet, this didn't discourage the humor-craving mortician one bit. He absolutely loved games; this would prove to be such an exciting and thrilling game.
So, he offered her a deal.
He would offer her a place to stay while fulfilling all that she desired and whatever catches her curiosity, in exchange she would help him around the shop, cleaning, paper work, and with dealing with guest; well the guest that come in alive anyway. His guest loved him, but their families…eh not so much. Maybe a little bit of a woman's heavenly touch would ease their nerves in his dark, yet creepy parlor.
Sapphira took the deal without a second thought. She had no idea of who she was, where she was from, or what had happened to her. Her first memory was her waking up in the Undertaker's parlor; he had found her, taken care of her, and stitched her up. The only thing she knew was these strange feelings, and the curiosity that coursed through her body. He had offered her a deal that she could not refuse; it was almost like making a deal with the devil himself.
With no idea of how the world around her worked, what some emotions were and how did they worked, and what certain words or meanings meant. She was just one naïve little angel. With the help of the Undertaker; he had given her his entire study that sat right across from her bedroom. She had multiple books about different things that she had needed to learn, all at her disposal.
Driven to the edge of madness, she was more than eager to jump into the books given and learn until her heart and soul were content.
And that's exactly what she did.
With the wounds healing on her back, she could only stand to wear a night gown, anything more constricting than that would surely aggravate the stitches on her back and ultimately delay her healing. Undertaker had instructed her to stay upstairs and once food was ready, he would bring her down to the dining room to eat…if he remember too. Normally, he only would munch on his dog biscuit shaped cookies, and that was it. He didn't think angels ate, and didn't feel bad when she had never mentioned it…until she read one of her books about a person's everyday life.
Knowing he needed to keep the appearance up that she was human; he started to make her food, but soon learned, that she would only eat a little bit at time. Breakfast would only be one slice of toast or bacon, lunch would be one or two sandwiches, and dinner would be a small slice of meat and vegetable. Mostly she would eat on the cookies he made and go back to her reading.
That January had been a brutal one; with at least forty-seven guest coming in a three and half weeks' time. Nearly all of them were from the freezing temperatures or falling into the river, which displeased Undertaker very much. It was the last couple of bodies that were very unusual, yet intriguing, that made up from it. Something had happened to them, but he never said what had happened or who they were. He was unusually mum about the whole situation. There were somethings that he had to keep a secret; secrets that could kill.
He was mum about a lot of things. It wasn't because he couldn't or didn't want to talk about them. He was more than willing to talk about tons of things, make jokes, or play some games, but that didn't happen. There was one thing that displeased him about his innocent fallen angel; her curiosity was that of a Scotland Yard officer investigating a crime. Her nose was always in a book, reading and reading, to the point where he frowned and huff.
Yes, he promised that he would feed her lust for curiosity; but he thought it would be much more fun than just watching her read. She asked simple questions, but nothing that made him laugh or intrigue him. His beautiful canvas was slowly turning out to be a disappointment, but he hadn't lost hope. Not just yet.
Which leads to the current situation that was at hand.
Sapphira had a book open about the history of England, currently finishing up the last chapter and Undertaker's lease favorite topic, The current Queen of England, Queen Victoria. She was nearly done…until the mortician skipped into the study, humming quietly as he took a pile of books she had finished and laid them on the floor, plopping himself onto the desk, skimming over the chapter she was currently reading. His face immediately frowning, accompanying with a small huff, swirling a lock of her hair around his finger.
"Victoria, huh? I don't like her~"
Glancing up at him and back down to where she had stopped reading, she tilted her head to the side. "Thrown into ruling a kingdom at such a young age…must've been hard on her."
"She does nothing but sightsee from way up high, and forces eeee~very thing harsh and dirty on other people." He sneered as he snatched the book out from in front of her, tossing it to the side.
"I wasn't finished that book yet…" Sapphira squeaked, watching it land over to the side of the desk.
With the wave of his hand, he slipped off her desk and slipped behind her, pulling her out of her chair. "That old hag won't give you what you want. Now dearie, I do believe it's time to get you out of that night gown and into something more suitable to greet people in~"
Even though he was leading her back to her room, he knew her eyes must've widen at what he had told her. She was finally getting to go change into something other than a gown and finally get to explore the front of the parlor. Even at night, he never let her down there just in case he got some after-hours clients. Dead or alive, he still got guest that popped up randomly after closing time, several times of week.
"If you will, dearie, change out of that night gown~"
Her hands raised to the hem of her gown, slowly pulling it over her head. Undertaker turned his back to give her some privacy, snickering behind his sleeve at how naïve she really was. Peeking out from under his bangs, he could see the gown discarded on the end of the bed, along with her undergarment.
She knew to go to the bathroom and change clothes, yet she changed right there with him in the room. If it was anyone else but him, they would most defiantly take advantage the situation at hand. He knew he probably should've given her a book about proper lady etiquette; instead she just learned about the general etiquette.
If he had given her something like that, she probably would've gotten easily confused. The questions she probably would have on the subject would greatly amuse him, but sadly, he hasn't had any amusing questions.
"Dearie~ Why didn't you get changed in the bathroom?"
Sapphira folded her arms downward, nearly covering herself completely. "Well you told me to change and since, you didn't guide me to the bathroom like last time, I figured you'd just want me to change in here."
Turning slightly to looked at her face, it was bluntly obvious that there was not a hint of embarrassment on her face, yet she properly tried to cover herself in front of him. Undertaker gave a low chuckle behind his sleeve. "Next time, do go change in the bathroom, it's very un-lady like for a woman to change in front of a man that she's not married too."
"Married?"
Handing her a pair of black undergarment with small white lace on each side and turned his back as she started to slip them up. She quickly noticed how these only went straight to her hips and didn't cover as much as the pair she had been wearing, but at least these weren't as tight fitting. Before she could question the difference in the two, Undertaker started to explain the last question she had asked. "Marriage is a socially and ritually recognized intimate union between a man and a woman that establishes rights and obligations between them. "
"What kind of rights and obligations?"
Picking up the next thing, he handed her a black sleeveless chemise, which she slipped over her head. Hanging slightly off her shoulders, it went straight down to her thighs, hanging loosely against her skin.
"Now, this will feel a little tight and possibly may hurt a little, so just breathe for me dearie." With the nod of her head, he moved around to her back, brushing her long snow-white hair to the side. He could see the scars peeking out of the top of the chemise, and saw they were practically healed. The scars were slightly raised still and stood out against her white peach toned skin, but to him they looked beautiful. He wasn't sure if she had seen the scars or not yet, but he has told her a time or two that there would be some extensive scaring. They almost matched his scars that were littered across his body.
The corset was made of black satin with white lace trimming around the cups and around the bottom, with threads of red and black running through. It seemed liked an odd combination, but it worked, luscious and dark against the pale of her skin. He laced it loosely at first, noticing how even that simple start nudged her breast up, and he wasn't even remotely done lacing her up. Placing a hand over her back, he leaned her over the bed, making her grip the post as he was about to lace.
"The definition of marriage varies according to different cultures, but it is principally an institution in which interpersonal relationships, usually sexual, are acknowledged. In some cultures, marriage is recommended or considered to be compulsory before pursuing any sexual activity." He explained as he took hold of the laces.
Undertaker tugged, quickly at first, then steadily, watching her shiver as the corset bound around her. Sapphira had let out a soft gasped, doing her best to breath as he had instructed her too. As she exhaled, he tugged again until he couldn't pull anymore. Nimbly twisting the laces with his fingers, he tied them carefully, making sure they were knotted enough to that it wouldn't loosen up throughout the day.
Most men had no clue how to tie a corset, but for the Undertaker, tying a corset was as simple as tying a ribbon. Being a mortician had it perks. If one could stitch up a body, one should be able to lace up a corset.
Laying a hand on her waist, he could see where the corset had made her waist appeared tiny and shape her hour glass figure that she had. It had enhanced her breast even more, which worried him about if her dress was going to fit her or not. If so, then probably loosening the corset would be his best option.
"How does it feel, dearie?"
"Tight," Sapphira admitted with a soft gasp. She was doing her best to breath, trying to find patterns and ways of bringing air into her lungs, despite the confinement she was in, and after a minute or two seemed to get the hang of it. Her breasts rose and fell every breath, which she laid a hand across. "I feel the more I wear one, the easier it will be to breathe and function."
"Don't worry, dearie~ It will more comfortable the more you move in it. Now, step into this~" He grabbed the garter belt, kneeling to the ground, motioning her to step into the belt.
Sapphira couldn't help but blush slightly as her hands landed on his shoulders, steadying her from falling over as she stepped into it. The garter belt was soft against her skin, the metal clips from the suspenders felt cold against her skin, and his nails scrapping against her thighs that made her body shivered as goose bumps trailed up right behind his nails felt...sensational.
It was…an unusual sensation, but it made her heart beat in excitement. Whatever lurked in the back of her mind had approved of this, as if it wanted more. Her soul lusted for the curiosity of what exactly was this sensation and why did her make her feel weird? She didn't know how to ask him what she was feeling and she was feeling unsure if she even should ask him what that was about.
In the midst of her issue; something he had said previous dawned on her.
He said marriage established rights and obligations between a man and woman. So, is sexual a right only for a man and woman who are married? So, do you have to be married to be seductive?
She opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by his giggle.
"Now, I want you to sit on the edge of the bed~ You'll be able to do this as well once you get use to that corset~" He giggled as he reached over next to her, picking up two black stockings. Removing her hands from his shoulders, she slowly sat down on the edge of the bed where he had told her to sit. "That belt I had slipped on you is what keeps these stockings on your legs from falling down~"
Still kneeling before her, he carefully lifts one foot and unrolled the stocking over her toes. He slid it up her leg until the top clung to her thigh, leaving her leg bare the rest of the way. Pulling the metal clip down, he attached the clip to the stocking, and tighten it slightly, making sure it would roll down on her or pull the garter down.
"Undertaker?"
"Hehe, yes dearie~"
"Do you have to be married to be seductive?"
…
…
…
Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait one damn minute.
What?
Slowly tilting his head to the side, the mortician sat in silence as he thought about what she had asked. He had given her the short version of what marriage was about; it's an intimate union that is both a natural institution and a sacred because it is rooted in the divine plan of creation. He had left out the last bit there because he knew that would be a whole set of questions that would take an entire day of explaining; best left in the dark until he had an entire box that went over marriage for her to read.
Oh! Oh, this was perfect.
Now this. This was what he has been waiting for! Such an interesting subject for her to be intrigued with. Not once did he ever mention seduction, but here she was asking about it. Was this one of the things that lurked in the back of her mind? Was this what made her heart beat in excitement? Was this what her soul lusted for? Seduction could cause an angel to fall from heaven; was this her true downfall?
Endless possibilities of what could have happened and it absolutely drove him mad that he did not know which one was the correct answer. For a man who had all the answers, this was one thing that he had a question with endless answers.
This had taken a sudden turn from her questions about everyday life; this made him die from laughter.
"Gehehehe hahahahahah~"
It was official, he was broke. Dropping completely to the ground, he rolled on the floor, cackling to the point of drooling all over himself. Gripping the stocking in his hand as he body shook in glee from the mere topic she had brought up. Finally, she brought up a topic that was worth talking about! Oh, this was such a delight. This was absolute bliss.
Hehe, what a delightful way to paint such a beautiful canvas. Now where to begin~
"Undertaker…?"
He snapped his head up toward her direction, drool sliding down the corners of his mouth. She had asked such a laughable question. Did you have to be married to be seductive? Oh, what a naïve one she was. A twisted grin crept across his face as he studies her features. There was something she was completely unaware of; something that he knew that he couldn't exactly tell her just yet. Be it that he would be afraid of someone taking advantage of her or that he just wanted to drag out this a little longer for his own amusement.
At this moment, she was the prime example of seduction.
Smoky, hypnotic, and world-weary, Sapphira's voice had it all at that moment. Her index finger laid gently against her slightly parted pale pink lips, her cheeks dusted in a light pink tint. Those big sapphire eyes were full of a desire not yet satisfied, as if she lusted for the curiosity of what it was to be seductive. Between that and what clothes she had on now, anyone could take advantage of her like that. Full of lust and curiosity, yet so delightful and inexperience.
Just the way she had said his name nearly drew the poor man in, but she was a fortunate that he wouldn't do that to her. Sapphira did not have a clue of what she could do to a man, no idea how she could easily draw a man in and drown them in her those big sapphire eyes. Melody voice that belongs to an angel that could bring a man to his knees. Such an innocent and delicate face that could make a cardinal commit sin. She had no clue what any of that meant, and any typical man would have used that against her.
He did promise to feed her lust for curiosity, but he was also going to warn her on topics like that. It would be quite unfortunate for this fallen angel, his beautiful canvas, to walk helplessly into a situation like that.
"Hehe, no dearie~ you don't have to be married to be seductive." He knelt back in front of her, carefully unrolling the stocking over her toes, sliding it up her leg. "In this society, it's highly recommended that you're married before you have sex, but…" Once he was immediately finished clipping her tights to the garter, his hand snuck down to the middle locket that hung on his hip. His eyes narrowed slightly behind his long bangs as he spoke distantly with a smile that didn't fit his usual grinning face. "If you love someone enough, then it doesn't matter if you're married or not. The only thing that matters is that person, and only that person."
Sapphira bit her finger as she processed everything he had said, watching his hand fiddle with the funeral locket that sat securely around his hips. "Love? Sex?"
Patting her head gently, his usual grin returned to his face as he spoke. "I'll explain those at another time~ you'll have plenty of other things to mule over here soon, do not worry about those two things right now, hehe~"
"O-oh. Okay."
"Dearie~ Remember when I said to use the bathroom the next time you change clothes?" She gave a slight nod. "Hehe, well make sure you don't ever change in front of another man, including me, again after today." His hand slid from the top of her head down to her cheek, his thumb ghosted over her lips, his voice was husky, his tone serious. One that made her body shiver in anticipation. "One may lose self-control, taking full advantage of your unworldly beauty and they may end up breaking you."
Nails digging into the blankets on the bed, a heated sensation built up into a ball in her lower stomach. Threads of an unknown sensation slid down her legs, into every toe…it had suffused her, carried her, and lifted her. She felt like she would suffocate as the feeling whiplashed her soul, blooming and radiating through her stomach and chest. White peach skin flushed, breathe caught in her throat, thick eye lashes fluttering from how intense the feeling was becoming.
The feeling of his thumb ghosting across her lips, the proximity he was to her, and hearing the words "breaking you", was all that it took to make her body shiver in delight, with the strange sensational feeling rushing through her body. It was strange feeling, but it felt simply…phenomenal. Her mind lurked with acceptance, her heart raced and pounded against her chest in pure excitement, and her soul lingered for more.
More.
She needed more.
Desperately clawing at the sheets, Sapphira could feel the urge rushing through her veins. Her tongue darted around her lips as she worked on trying to locate the words that could describe the feeling she was having now.
Understanding?
No.
Embarrassment?
No, that isn't it.
Disinterested?
No, not even close.
Anxious?
Close, but not exactly it.
What is this sensation that is taking over my body? It feels…it feels…
"Hehehe, dearie~ Time to put your dress on."
Sapphira snapped her head up to look at the Undertaker, who had stepped away while she was lost in the sensation and unknown feelings. Typical grin plastered across his face as he laid the dress across her lap. Sapphire eyes trailed down to the dress that laid on her, as her mind drawing a blank about what had just happened.
It's…gone.
"Now stand up and slip it over your head with the opening at the neck facing the front." Undertaker instructed, pulling an old looking full length mirror from the closet. Dusting some of the cobwebs off the mirror, he moved it to where she could see herself sitting on the bed. "Here you go~ You will can use this to see if everything is straight, hehe."
As quickly as the feeling had surged through her body and vanished, she made her way from the bed to in front of the mirror. Letting the top of the dress it hit the floor, she pulled the bottom of it over her head, gently sliding her arms through the sleeves. Hands immediately smoothing out the dress, as the Undertaker appeared behind her in the mirror.
It was a black dress that flows to her knees, white cuffs around her wrist, and around her neck the dress has a white fold over collar. Bottom of the dress was decorated in a white trim with the shape of crosses cut into it. Undertaker took a red ribbon and tied it underneath her collar, holding both sides together with a small black pendent.
"Well, my fallen angel, what do you think, hehehe?"
"There's…something missing."
Holding a finger against his lips, he tapped his foot several times as he looked her over. Something was indeed missing from her appearance, what was it?
The black dress with traces of white went magnificent with her white peach tone skin. The hint of red wrapped around her neck giving elegance to her beauty. The black pendent was the symbol of the darkness in her soul. Her snow-white hair hanged down her back to the end of her calves, with two strands hanging over her shoulders, ending just below her breasts.
That's it!
Snapping his fingers together, the grey headed man slipped his hand into robe, searching for something.
"My, oh my, where did I put it." He murmured as he pulled out prayer beads, several crosses, and a skull. Sapphira stared in amazement of how much stuff he had stashed away in his robe…there was no way that could even be possible?
It was very apparent that he was in search for something. That was when she saw him pull out a very long black ribbon. Just like his hat, it looked slightly old and worn. Walking up behind her, he pulled her hair back up into a high ponytail, wrapping the ribbon around and tying it up into a bow, only to leave the two strands hanging over her shoulders.
"Now, what do you think?"
"Yes! I like it very much. How do I look, though?" Twirling herself around to look at him in the face, a smile gracing her lips, as a grin grew on his.
A finger scratched his chin as he thought over what she had asked him. His beautiful canvas now had the background painted out. The scenery was beautiful; breath taken even. It was a cold, dark night and fresh powder snow had just fallen. Leaving everything in its wake to look simply stunning; as if the snow redefected like millions of tiny diamonds underneath the shining light coming from the full moon.
"Hehe, my little angel, you look simply exquisite~"
"Exquisite?" Sapphira questioned.
"Extremely beautiful and, typically, delicate~"
Undertaker giggled behind his sleeve as he watched the fallen angel's cheek turned slightly red in embarrassment. Picking up a pair of black ballet flats, he sat them down in front of her. "Now, slip these shoes onto your feet and we can go downstairs, I'll be able to show you how to take care of the front room."
Sapphira's eyes lit up like the full moon like itself; her hands immediately clasped together, her hips swinging back and forth. "Really? You actually mean it?"
"Hehehe, of course, dearie~"
Without a second thought, she slipped the flats on and twirled around in a circle, a grin like his plastered on her face. "Am I presentable enough to interact with people?"
"Gu he he…more than presentable, you are a work of art~ Now, come along, we have much to do~" He sang as he snatched her wrist, dragging her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She felt like history of repeating itself as she was dragged through the parlor at such a fast place. She had spent the first two days of her life here with him being dragged through the entire place, now she could finally move full reign within the entire building now that she could wear normal clothes and not just night gowns anymore.
Her job would be to keep the parlor clean, interacting with the living guest as he interacted with the guest they bring in, and fill out all the paper needed for the funeral and death certificate. With the first ten or so guest he had come in, he had showed her each time what parts of the paper work that needed to be filled out and what to put down. The only thing she didn't have to do was sign, since they needed his signature. After that, he gave her the rest that would come and had her fill them out, which she picked up on quickly. It helped him out to not have to do that; as all he had to do was sign it and take it himself. Of course, there was always one rule he had enforced when it came to filling out the paper work.
Write down the cause of death, but never question the families or anyone who brings the guest in about said cause of death. He had instructed her that if someone were to bring a guest after "closing" time, that he would personality take care of them and fill everything out, and not to worry her pretty little head about anything.
When it came to cleaning, it was easy to learn, but it was at first harder to do. In the beginning, she only dusted the desk and shelfs that were in reach, since the stitches running up her back and shoulders had prevented her from doing a whole lot. The more she used her muscles and the pain wasn't unbearable, she could sweep and clean the higher part of the shelves. She had organized all the books on the shelves and in the room in alphabetical order, much to the Undertaker's surprised. Finding a home for every book was a little difficult, but she managed to make a space on the shelf for every book. The only books that were not on the shelfs were the books that the Undertaker had given her to read.
Today was the first day that she would be able to put her social skills, as Undertaker called it, to the test. For the past month, Undertaker was the only person she has interacted with. Sapphira loved spending time with him, he was always laughing, which made her happy, and told her jokes. Of course, nearly all the jokes he had told, he ended up having to explain before he got a laugh out of her. He always made it a point to feed her curiosity, but there was only so much he could do for her, and he promised the moment her wounds had healed that he would feed her lust for curiosity to the point she would probably end up drowning. One being told that they would probably drown would frighten them to no end, but for Sapphira, she desperately wanted to know everything around her to the point of her drowning. Undertaker had promised her that if she was to drown, he would bring her back to surface for air, only then push her back down under to drown in it again.
Watching him disappear behind the dark purple curtain; the very curtain that Sapphira had peeked through before and saw the Undertaker for the very first time. Slowly pushing the curtain back, she slipped through, coming face to face with the grinning mortician. Her eyes widen in the amazement, as she looked at the room around her.
The room was painted in a hunter green color, with the only light coming in from the outside was from the double panel windows on the dark purple door. The room was littered with all kinds of coffins, something she first learned about in the book he had given her about what he did for a living. Each wall had a book case against it; mixed between books and jars full of…things she had no idea what the hell they were. Several shelves lined the wall around the room, mixed with different jars, objects of religions, and books. Picture frames were scattered around the room; grave yards, corpses in coffins, and churches. Sitting immediately to her right was a desk with a wooden chair with two skulls sitting on each post. Basically, everything you wanted to find in a funeral parlor.
Out of everything in the room; only one thing stood out to her.
"Undertaker…this room is completely filthy." She deadpanned.
"You wound me, dearie~" Undertaker whined.
Sapphira couldn't help but giggle a little at his reaction. She knew he kept the cleaning supplies in the closet where the kitchen and dining room were. Quickly disappearing into the dining room, she returned to find him slumped over his desk, with a bone-shaped cookie sticking out of his mouth.
The first thing she started to do was cleaning the cobwebs that lingered across the ceiling and upper right corners of the room. Holding one arm across her nose and mouth, she used her free hand to sweep with the broom. The room was entirely to filthy for this, as the dust came raining down on her, stinging her eyes slightly. Once the ceiling was free from cobwebs and dust, she moved on to the shelfs. Laying the broom against the walls, she took the duster and started working on dusting the book shelves.
"Hehe, dearie~"
"Yes, Undertaker?"
"Tell me a joke~" He giggled as he watched her clean some of the shelfs that hanged on the walls. She was light on her feet and quick at cleaning; she proved how efficient she was when she cleaned the rooms upstairs. He had the right idea to give her a book on how to be the perfect maid, which he marked the pages she needed to read and focus on. Trivial things such as serving a master and taking care of children were not important. She was his apprentice, for show at least, not a servant. Deep down, she was more than all of that. She was his canvas, to paint on and make an exquisite master piece. She was his fallen angelic doll, to dress up and make beautiful. She was his humor and entertainment, to make him laugh and keep himself from being bored.
Sapphira paused for a second, setting down the cross she had picked up from the shelf, so she could clean under. Tapping a finger to her lip, her mind searched a joke that she had read in a book. Amongst cleaning the study, she had occupied, she had discovered a book that had been buried under some cobwebs. She had learned that he was a very playful man and loved jokes…well, he loved anything that could make him laugh.
Which is why she studied that book enough to memorize all the jokes that were inside of it.
His laugh was infectious and she wanted more. She'd do anything to hear his laugh; which luckily didn't take a whole lot to make him laugh.
"What is the difference between Joan of Arc and a canoe?
"Hmmmm, I don't know dearie~"
"One is a Maid of Orleans, the other is made of wood."
…
…
…
….
"Gya Hahahahahahahahaha."
Undertaker fell out of his chair onto the ground, holding his sides as he laughed himself to the point where he started to heave. Tears rolled down his face, drool rolled down the corners of his lips, and his body rolled around on the floor.
Creak.
Sapphira turned her head toward the source of the sound, her eyes focused on the door that lead to the outside. A bead of sweat slipped down the side of her head as she had an idea of what was to come next.
BAM!
Dropping her head with a sigh, she knew that would happen. The sign out front had yet once again fell from where it was hanging. This was a re-occurring thing; at least nine times a week that sign would fall to the ground. Sapphira was amazed that the sign had not broken yet, at least to her knowledge.
"Oh dear, I guess I should go fix it."
"Gu Fu, no dearie~ I'll fix it here in a bit, you just go back to cleaning." He was still laid out on the floor, his laughter dying down to fits of giggles. "That was a good joke, I hadn't laughed that hard since…"
"Yesterday." Sapphira finished for him as she started to work on dusting the paintings hanging around the room.
Crawling back up into his chair, he laid his head on his arms as he watched her yet again clean the parlor. Granted, he didn't mind the cobwebs or dust…as it made it look like the parlor it was, but he knew having her here, she wouldn't leave it like that for long. It was looking cleaner, but if it didn't sparkle like the sun hitting fresh powder snow in the building, he didn't care.
His hidden eyes followed her every movement and stopped to see what exactly she was staring at. His fingers immediately making their way to the middle locket on his chain, twisting and turning the locket as he watched Sapphira with keen interest.
It was a painting of a freshly made grave that was decorated in all white. She had dusted it off completely, her hand delicately tracing the painting with such care and fascination. The tomb stone had the engraving of a woman's name; white roses made into a wreath laid over the tomb stone has two to three dozen white roses laid out around it.
"Something catch your curiosity, sweet angel?" He was intrigued that of all the paintings in the room, that particular one had caught her attention.
Sapphira had exchanged the feather duster for the broom and leaned against the broom, laying the tip under her chin. Her eyes focusing solely on the painting, "Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
Twisted grin crept across his face, snickering as he spoke, "Death is a very beautiful thing indeed, but not everyone who is dead is truly at peace. There are some that…can't forgive life nor can they find peace." Raising a finger as he spoke, his grin bigger as he continued to speak, "You see, dearie~ Many a poor soul has had to suffer from the weight of the debt on her, finding no rest or peace after death."
Sapphira stared at the painting for a few minutes before she started to sweep up the dust that had gathered all over the floor from her cleaning of everything above the ground; especially from cleaning the cobwebs and dust off the ceiling and corners.
"Hmmm…"
Not taking her eyes off sweeping everything into one big pile, she heard him from over at his desk thinking about something. Though, that was another thing she has started to learn, there was no way in hell of telling what exactly he was thinking about.
Wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she smiled at what she had accomplished so far. The room was staring to look better; the only thing left was to sweep out the pile of dust and clean the coffins. They needed a good washing and polishing.
"Do you have something I could…Undertaker?" Sapphira had turned around to find the seat he had preoccupied before empty. She hadn't heard him leave, so where could have he gone? Propping the broom against the coffin, she walked over the desk, peeking over it to see if maybe had fallen to the floor in a silent laughter this time. With no sign of the Undertaker, she shrugged her shoulders, and was about to go back to what she had been doing before, when something had caught her attention.
Jingle. Jingle. Jingle.
"Uhm…hello?"
Sapphira jumped from her spot, turning around to see a young woman had walked open the door to the parlor and nervously looked around. Giving a gentle smile, the fallen angel had walked up the young woman, nodding her head. "Hello there, welcome to the funeral parlor. My name is Sapphira, how can I be of some assistance?"
The young woman immediately relaxed when her eyes laid on Sapphira, feeling slightly better about having entering such a creepy parlor. "Yes, my father had passed away last night and I was curious to see how much a coffin would be."
Clapping her hands together, the white-haired woman tilted her head with a sad smile. "You poor dear, I'm sorry for your lost. I'd be more than happy to help you. Now, tell me what kind of coffin would you like?" She asked as she went behind the desk and grabbed an ordering form and fountain pen.
"Nothing to extravagant, just a simple dark wooden coffin would be nice."
Tapping the fountain pen against her cheek, thinking for a split second. "I think a walnut coffin would do nicely. The wood from a walnut tree is rather lovely and would be nice for what you are looking for."
"Walnut would be lovely! Do you think you could do just a simple white silk liner for him to lie in?"
"White silk would be absolutely perfect with the walnut wood." Filling out the order form, she glanced over at the young woman, laughing nervously. "Oh dear, I never did ask your name. I do apologize, what is your name?
"Please, do not apologize, I'm the one who didn't introduce myself when I first walked in. My name is Milly Pond." Milly bowed.
Sapphira tapped her cheek, tilting her head with a confused look. "How odd, you have two names?"
"Heavens no! Milly is my given name, and Pond is my surname."
Slightly confused by this, she returned to the order form that was laid out on the desk. How could a person have two names? She knew her name was Sapphira, but she wasn't sure if that was a given or surname? She wasn't sure if the Undertaker's name was just like hers. So many things to learn and it was one of those times that she had wished the Undertaker was around to answer her questions. Shrugging her shoulders, she went over the questions that were on the ordering form.
Creak.
Milly jumped from her spot on the coffin, looking around the dark and dreary parlor. "M-Ms. Sapphira, what was that?"
"This shop is rather old, so it makes strange noises from time to time. Don't worry, there is nothing scary lurking around here." Sapphira reassured with a smile.
"I-if you say so, than I shall take your word for it. About the time frame, do you think you could have it done in three days' time?"
"Hmmm…that's a little soon, but I do believe the Undertaker can get it done in three days. I'd have to ask him of course."
"Oh…so you're not the Undertaker? I thought you looked a little young, but I thought it would be rude to ask."
"Me, the Undertaker? Oh no, I'm just his apprentice." She laughed with the wave of her hand. Walking toward the purple curtain that lead to the back. "It will take me a few minutes to see if we have what we need for the coffin, so please remain here."
It felt as soon as Sapphira vanished, that the room grew very cold and unfriendly. Milly shifted uncomfortably in her spot as she glanced around the room. Candles that lit the room had gone out, leaving the only source of light coming in from the double panel window on the door. Gripping her coat tighter around her, she huddled into it for warmth.
Creak.
Cutting her eyes to the couple of coffins that lined up against the wall where the sound come from. Not a single thing looked out of place from what she could tell, so the sound must've been the floor boards from the upper part of the building. Sighing a little, she stared down at her feet, fiddling with the buttons on her coat.
Creeeeeeeeeak.
This time it had seemed that the sound had originated from exactly in front of her. Snapping her neck from the floor, there was nothing out of the ordinary that stuck out to her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Sapphira had disappeared behind the purple curtain that was in front of her, so it couldn't have been her. She did say the mortician lived here…so was it him? She didn't know what he looked like, but surely if he was here, he would've introduce himself to a client…wouldn't he? Maybe he was too busy preparing a body for a funeral.
What…What if there is body in this coffin I'm sitting on?
Milly shivered at the thought of a body lying in the coffin underneath her. Of course, that wasn't thing that was going to shiver down the poor girl's spine. A pair of pale hands made their ways to her shoulders, long black nails gently digging into the shoulders of her jacket. A raspy, yet unnerving voice spoke from behind, digging their nails into her shoulder.
"He he, don't worry, I don't leave coffins out in the front with guest in them~"
Jumping out of her spot, she quickly turned around, not seeing anyone behind her. The hand on her shoulders, the nails digging in, and the eerie voice sounded so…real. Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands, she blinked a few times to see that there wasn't anyone in the room with her.
Did she imagine all of that?
Who would even come up with that kind of voice?
There was no way that could've been real, could it?"
"I should thank you for being a test subject for my apprentice~"
"T-Test subject?"
Feeling someone move behind her, she felt the same pair of hands snake up her arms and onto her shoulders, a hot breath and unsettling voice speaking next to her ear. "You see, it was her first day and I was worried that she would get overwhelm, but you, dearie, were so nice and patient with her."
Immediately the hands disappeared from her shoulders and felt the presence vanish from behind. Her entire being shook in fear from the encounter then the phantom. That was what she had deemed the person to be, as she has not once yet to see this figure but just their hands.
"Gu fu."
Her head looked in every direction for the source of the laugh, but she couldn't see anyone. Was the loss of her father driving her insane? No, she was perfectly fine when Sapphira had been in the room. It was the moment that she had left that the entire parlor had turned into a bad nightmare.
"W-who are you?"
The room grew silent at her question, as she backed closer to the door. All she wanted was to be out of that nightmare; she could care less about the coffin right now. There were plenty of other places to go, but this was the closes to the hospital where her father had died at and she had heard that the coffins were good quality, for a reasonable price.
No one had forewarned her for what she was encountering thought.
"Who am I? It's simple, dearie. I'm Death~"
Milly jolted for the door without even looking back, just hearing those words alone was enough to make her leave. The last thing she wanted to meet the same fate that her father had met the previous night.
Jingle. Jingle. Jingle.
Right when the door had shut behind the scared woman, Sapphira had walked out from the back room with a piece of wood in her hand. Scanning the room for any signs of the guest she had, she found that she was left all by her lonesome. Laying the order down and piece of wood onto the desk, she walked over to the coffin that she had left Milly at.
"Oh, I surely hope I didn't take too long back there for her." Sapphira frowned.
A pair of arms snaked their way around her waist, drawing her to their chest in a loose hold, a chuckle filling the air around her. "Hehe, don't worry dearie, she had to be somewhere in a hurry~"
"Ah!"
Sapphira yelped and jumped at the feeling of his arms around her and the sound of his voice, catching her off guard in surprise. Falling forwards out of his arms, she ended up tripping over the coffin that Milly had been sitting on previously, she fell directly on her hands and knees into the pile of dust that she had swept up previously before she was interrupted. Drawing a hand to her mouth, she coughed into it repeatedly as the air of dust surrounded her entire being.
"Gu he he, did I scare you, dearie?"
"Y-yes you did." Coughing into her hand once before she spoke. "Where did the guest I had go?"
Undertaker laid a finger on his chin, looking up to the ceiling as if he was thinking. "Oh, she said she had to take care of something, but I told her that I'd deliver the coffin to her in three days' time and free of charge too~" Extending a hand down to the fallen angel, he helped her back to her feet with a snicker. "Did you not like my hug?"
"Hug?"
Undertaker chuckled as he wiped the grime off her cheek with his sleeve, "An act of holding someone tightly in one's arms, typically to express affection."
"Affection?"
"Gu fu, I'll explain another time dearie~ How about right now you go head upstairs and take a nice hot bath."
Sapphira hesitated slightly as she looked at the room behind her; there was so much to do. The pile of dust and dirt she had fallen in had spread out slightly. Plus, there was the coffins that needed to be washed and polish. There was also the order that she needed to finish filling out before she could give it to the Undertaker. It was apparent her eyes showed her thoughts, as he waved his hand and pushed her through the curtains and toward the stairs.
"I'll clean up the mess and finish the paper work, you go take a hot bath and relax~ You did excellent today." He praised as she shooed up the stairs.
Knowing there was no winning with the Undertaker, as he had the bottom of the stairs blocked and kept moving her up the stairs with the motion of his hands.
Hanging her head in defeat, she climbed the stairs and disappeared into her bedroom. Pulling the black ribbon out of her hair, she laid it down on the night stand next to the bed, along with the pendent and red ribbon, laying them down next to it. Pulling her dress over her head, she laid it down on the chair sitting across from the room. Unclipping the stockings from the garter belt, she laid them down on top of the dress.
Her hands reached behind her back and delicately started to pull on the strings that tied her corset together. The looser the strings got, the feeling of her waist slowly expanding back to its normal size and feeling her lungs quickly filling up with air, finally being able to expand to full capacity. She shed that, along with the chemise, garter belt, and undergarment, she piled those all on top of everything in the chair.
Slipping into the bathroom, she could see that the bath had been drawn already for her. Closing the door behind her, she walked over to the tub, dipping a hand into it. It was still a little hot, but it wasn't hot enough to cause her to develop scalding hot burns.
Sapphira dipped down into the tub and started to clean herself off from a day's worth of work…well somewhat of a day's worth of work. She was indeed covered in dust as it was all over her face, hands, and in her hair. Thankfully, with a little bit of soap and shampoo, she could clean herself with no problem. Scrunching her eyes shut as she poured the water over her head, she could feel the hot water slip down her face. For most people, they wouldn't enjoy hot water tricking down their face, but for her, she enjoyed it. It was comforting to her, plus it let her know that she had a big before it would start getting cold.
Slipping down into the tub, she noticed the book that had been nested on top of her towel. Reaching out to grab it, she saw it was the book that she had been reading when she had first found the study. With a smile gracing her face, she settled back down into the tub as she started to read where she had last left off at.
Will it not be felt that Virtue, however beautiful, becomes the worst of all attitudes when it is found too feeble to contend with Vice, and that, in an entirely corrupted age, the safest course is to follow along after the others? Somewhat better informed, if one wishes, and abusing the knowledge hey have acquired, will they not say, as did the angel Jesrad in 'Zadig', that there is no evil whereof some good is not born? And will they not declare, that this being the case, they can give themselves over to evil since, indeed, it is but one of the fashions of producing good? Will they not add, that it makes no difference to the general plan whether such-and-such a one is by preference good or bad, that if misery persecutes virtue and prosperity accompanies crime, those things being as one in Nature's view, far better to join company with the wicked who flourish than to be counted amongst the virtuous who founder?
Hence, it is important to anticipate those dangerous sophistries of a false philosophy; it is essential to show that through examples of afflicted virtue presented to depraved spirit in which, however, there remain a few good principles, it is essential, I say,- to show that sprit quite as surely restored to righteousness by these means as by portraying this virtuous career ornate with the glittering honors and the most flattering rewards.
Doubtless it is cruel to have to describe, on the one hand, a host of ills overwhelming a sweet-tempered and sensitive woman who, as best she is able, respects virtue, and on the other, the affluence of prosperity of those who crush and mortify this same woman. But were there nevertheless some good engendered of the demonstration, would one have to repent of making it? Ought one be sorry for having established a face of whence there resulted, for the wise man who reads to some purpose, so useful a lesson of submission to providential decrees and the fateful warning that is often to recall us to our duties that Heaven strikes down beside us the person who seems to us best have to fulfilled his own? Such are the sentiments which are going to direct our labors, and it is in consideration of these intentions that we ask the reader's indulgence for the erroneous doctrines which are to be placed in the mouths of our characters, and for the sometimes rather painful situation which, out of love for truth, we have been obligated to dress before his eyes.
"Dearie~ I left your nightgown on your bed and took your clothes to wash." Undertaker called from behind the bathroom door.
"Oh, thank you Undertaker!"
Hearing the faint sound of a giggle coming from behind the door, Sapphira could feel the water slowly becoming lukewarm. Deciding it would be best to get out before she started on the next chapter, she exchanged the book for the towel, first drying her hair a little then her body.
Wrapping the towel around self, she grabbed her book and poked her head out from behind the door, making sure the Undertaker was not still in the room. Seeing the room was free from infectious laughs and riddles, she walked over to her bed. Laying her towel on the floor and the book on the bed, she slipped on the black long-sleeved night gown that went down to her ankles. Sliding a matching pair of undergarments on underneath the gown, she picked up her towel, taking it back to the bathroom to hang to dry.
Returning to the room, she grabbed her book from the edge of the bed and blew out the candle, crawling into the bed. Once her head sit the pillow and the book clutched in her arms, her eyelids steadily grew heavier with every passing minute. As her consciousness ebbed, her mind went into a free fall, swirling with the beautiful chaos of a new dream.