Chapter 6: The Undertaker

Our parents were dead. We were alone.

I had never seen William cry as hard as he did that day. While he was seventeen, plenty old enough to start doing things for himself, he was still dependent on our parents. Whether it was simply to keep the roof over our heads or because he actually needed them, I may never know.

Another thing I may never know is whether or not Sebastian actually mourned the deaths of our parents. While he did look upset about the matter, not once did he shed a single tear. I can't say I blamed him. Our parents had done nothing more than abuse and neglect him. In fact, I think our trip to the undertaker's parlor had been the first time hed ever been allowed out of the house. It wouldn't surprise me if he was glad to be rid of our parents and figured they got what they deserved.

As for me, it was a while before I was given time to grieve. I spent most of my time trying to keep William from tearing into Sebastian while we were in town. He seemed pretty convinced that he had something to do with our parents' murders, even though I knew that was impossible. He'd been at home at the time the murders occurred. He couldn't have done it.

The walk to the undertakers parlor was probably the worst part of this whole ordeal. Nevermind William trying to kill Sebastian the entire way, the news had the townsfolk completely flustered. On top of that, Sebastian's appearance caused somewhat of a disturbance. The people weren't just terrified by the color of his eyes, they were curious. They stared, and that atmosphere alone made him turn back and try to head home and number of times. Each time I would grab him and pull him forward.

We reached the undertaker's parlor at the stroke of noon. It was a dreary building about a mile down the road from the local cemetery. We got there just as our parents had been fitted for coffins and cleaned up.

The undertaker was a skinny old man with shoulder-length gray hair. He wore black robes with long sleeves and a black top hat. His face was twisted in a crooked smile and his body shook occasionally with unnecessary chuckling. He was crazy, even back then, and everyone knew it. The undertaker that dealt with the victims from the Jack the Ripper case? This was the same undertaker hundreds of years prior to that.

William couldn't manage more than a glance into the coffins before he started crying again. At first glance, there was no evidence that mother and father had been murdered. They looked incredibly peaceful and the wounds were either cleverly hidden with the careful placement of clothes and hair or covered up with make up.

"Pretty neat, eh?" The undertaker said in a raspy voice, "you never woulda guessed that they had been killed in such a grizzly fashion. Two beautiful works of art."

The old man's gaze shifted to Sebastian and a pondering hum erupted from his throat.

"I say . . . You wouldn't happen to be related to the Red-Eyed Raven, would you?"

Sebastian shrunk back against the door, "I um . . . I-I don't know what you mean."

"Your grandfather. His name was Raven Smith, wasn't it ? No need to hide it. Why you look just like him; all the way down to that garnet gaze of yours!"

"Don't say that!" William hissed, stalking towards the undertaker, "Our grandfather was nothing like that beast!"

"Oh, but he was," the undertaker chuckled, "I grew up with the man, I should know. He was a kind and friendly man even though he was shunned by the rest of the village, all because everyone was afraid he was a demon. After a while people started to say that his eyes were copper, but I tell you copper and red are two completely different colors."

Undertaker gestured for Sebastian to approach, "What's your name, young lad?"

Sebastian cautiously stepped forward and stood before the crazed old loon, "Sebastian."

"This is the first time I've seen you around here, Sebastian. Why you're practically grown up! Where have you been?"

"I . . . I take care of the house, good sir."

"Is that so? Or are you a prisoner, locked away day and night so no one can see you? It's alright. You can tell me. That's exactly how your grandfather Raven lived."

Even though I stood a fair distance away from him, I could see Sebastian trembling. He looked as though he were at war with himself; torn between feeding the lie and giving into the truth.

Finally, I rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay," I told him, "you don't have to hide anymore, Sebastian. Tell us what's on your mind."

The look I received from him was heartbreaking. The only way I can describe it is as the look of pure mental and emotional exhaustion. The exhaustion from being beaten on a daily basis, the exhaustion from not being able to sleep, the exhaustion from taking our families insults, the exhaustion from the lack of meals, the exhaustion from always being alone, from having to do everything alone; all of it came out at once.

His body shattered as he allowed his tears to break past their barriers. His legs gave under his weight as he sank to his knees and sobbed loudly into his hands. The undertaker's expression softened into a warm smile as he stepped forward and knelt down beside him, allowing him to press against his robes in search for the comfort he'd always longed for as he rested a long nailed, bony hand on his head.

"That's it, lad," he said in a strangely calming voice, "Let it out. Let it out."

Even William seem to be taken by Sebastian's meltdown. I don't think he even knew how much pain he's been in all this time until now, and I watched in awe as he too sank to his knees and cried with him. I didn't care if it was because he felt guilty about how he had treated him or if he was still crying over the deaths of our parents, it was just nice to see him trying to comfort and seek comfort from him, for a change. I knelt down beside them both and embraced them.

The three of us had finally become brothers.