Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji

A/N: I AM NOT DEAD...I WAS JUST BUSY AND UNINSPIRED! But anyway, here is an update! Enjoy! The story should start to pick up from here on out!


August 15, 1942

I can't find any more evidence on Harvey and Shock, though suspicions rise on Ciel. Sebastian can betray me. For all I know, a hundred demons could be roaming the place in disguise, just like these two. The brashness of Claude is one thing, what is a whole lot came after me? I want to return home so much now, but Sebastian, I feel that there is something about him that keeps me from leaving. To be in love with the enemy, that's quite the story, but I feel there's a great danger here.

I sent a pigeon the other day to William under the request that I should know if any Shinigami besides myself are stationed at Auschwitz at all. It makes me anxious that he never replied to it, I fear I'm the only Shinigami here.

About two months passed since Claude's assault. He felt very unfortunate to be under Faustus's order, as a result, he was forced to interact with the children; luckily, Hiro knew of when to keep his distance, so at least the task was bearable.

His time underground with the dead and dying little ones had slowly hardened him. As disgusting as he thought Hiro was treating them, he became less sensitive, often looking away whenever he was escorting a child for the experiments. It was during breaks that he would catch the time to visit the little Romanian girl, often giving her the most sweets Hiro originally had for the children.

Every so often he would reap with his chainsaw, though he would take the dying to where the little girl was and reap them properly from there to avoid the others from seeing him. He hoped that his chainsaw could barely be heard from such a distance, though little mattered, he still had to reap to show that he was working as a Dispatcher.

"She's blind so it's not like she would see you do the deed," Ciel told him once when he followed him around.

Grell had the urge to kick the brat, though he thought it best to wait for a much more appropriate time. The last thing he would want is to be given the bad side of the demon, though, by this point, he had to remain cautious. He knew he was playing with fire, he knew what Ciel and Sebastian were capable of; the Queen's guard dog was a sly noble in life, the chances of him being better at his previous occupation in the afterlife haunted Grell.

For all Grell could know, they could be manipulating him. Ciel could have been in the position of Alois, a young Nazi in Hitler's youth program, but he chose to look like a prisoner; that obviously was a red flag to Grell.

It was after his shift, when it became dark, that he came to the SS Barracks to Alois, the young boy was sitting at his desk though he had a parcel at the edge. When Grell walked in, the boy caught his attention by piping up,"Standartenjunker, there is a parcel for you here!"

Grell approached the desk, then reached for the box-like object. "Thank you."

He took it at hand and examined it out of curiosity, shaking it slightly to figure out what it was.

"Oh, also, Daemon left a message for, he wants you to go to the Record Warehouse at two hundred hours."

Grell nodded. "Danke."

Alois went to whatever he was doing, perhaps making a model of one of the planes that the Germans had. Grell cared less, for he was climbing up the stairs, reading the address of which the package came from. It had his full name on it, with official stamps and seals that qualified the it to enter the territory of the Nazis, but the returning address was missing.

When he entered his room, he went to the small table and took a knife that was left near the radio. He deftly severed the twine and tape, then removed the brown, paper covering. Within it was a black box; it was of a black, synthetic leather, obviously of high quality. Grell knew instantly what it was. It was sent from the Dispatch Society. He took off his gloves while settling himself on the chair at his desk, carefully placing the leather box on the redwood.

He turned on the desk lamp and stared at the familiar box from home.

With trembling fingers, he ran his hands down the edge of the lid, then he undid the latch. Upon lifting the lid, two letters were tucked over the content within the box. He took one and opened it.

Dear Grell Sutcliff,

I hope that you are in good health.

-William. T. Spears

"As much as he was concerned for me before, he sure seems to lack it in words on paper," Grell mused. The letter, more of a note, was not the answer he expected when he sent that pigeon out the other day before. He sighed.

I am alone in this...

Besides his disappointment and lack of assurance of possible reinforcements, thoughts of William, even the love for him, were suddenly less common nowadays. It was as if Grell had forgotten all about him. As much as the pair had started a relationship, which was expected to last all eternity, Grell felt that there was always something lacking within it. He tried to brush off such thoughts, given that he had Sebastian with him. He could deal with any issue from William later; Grell is trying to stay alive at the moment, the brush in with Claude certainly alerted him of the dangers.

Willam's letter was put to the side, he took the second one.

Hey Grell,

As much as I would understand you only took your chainsaw with you, I thought you would need a much more convenient weapon if you need to reap or have any fights with a demon. You can thank me later, I'm sure that you, being Jack the Ripper, would know how to use a switchblade. It's a modified death scythe, you can use it to reap souls and, lucky for you, I registered it under your name. Ain't I the best?

Anyway, it's been a while since I've seen you, things are quite quiet here. We all miss you, me, William, and even the ladies. Make sure to come back soon in one piece, alright? We hope you're playing it safe.

-Ronald Knox

P.S. Harvey is now dead, they had to execute him for assaulting a nurse. The Administration had decided to make his case public, and because of that, Shinigami from the London Division are pulling out of their stations all over Europe; hopefully they'll pull you out to. Best of luck, Grell, write to me when you get the chance. They'll send you a message soon to a meeting place.

Grell read the last paragraph, he reread it once more. His heart skipped a beat, he wanted to jump for joy; he was going to be called back soon, some day, to go home. He can forget all about his mission soon! He wanted to dance, to sing, to something ecstatic. He smiled.

The words of Ronald made up for his miserable time as a guard at Birkenau. His hopes were high, and they became higher when he removed the paper covering of the switchblade the was in the foam cushion within the box.

Within it was a switchblade whose handle was of black ivory. He held the handle and then pushed the latch on the edge with his thumb, the blade switched out; it was impressively sharp, it gleamed under the lamp light. The handle was as long as the palm of his hand and was about four inches, the blade itself was four inches as well, and the width of it all was the same as his brush's handle. It was slightly heavy but can be tossed easily.

"Thank you, Ronnie," Grell murmured to himself, folding the blade into the handle and then tucking it away into his belt's pouch. He looked at the clock and then at the box. He went to the hidden slot in the room at the corner of his bed and lifted the boards to hide his items near his journal.

-...-

Sebastian waited patiently for Grell. The man came around the corner and quietly greeted him, though there was a bounce in his steps. Grell smiled at him and was at his side.

"Alois said to meet you here," Grell stated.

The man stared at him for a bit, then spoke,"I wanted to tell you that I have run an investigation for the description of Harvey, and if you had a picture, it would be easier, but, either way, I went through all of the photos of registered Polish prisoners to see if he matched what you told me."

"And?" Grell said, pressing the word, expecting to hear what he needed, but Sebastian sighed and frowned.

"It appears that any record of him was never here. He may have been really well in his disguise to fool the humans but Claude, on the other hand, may have spotted him head-on."

"That man, would it be safe to kill him? Oh, no, he's the same rank as you, it'll be too much attention towards him." He gave Sebastian a glance, then turned to look at the flags that were across the courtyard. "I presume that that's more than what you needed me here for, yes?"

Sebastian cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder, Grell looked at him once more and saw that he was offering a folder. "Your new task from the Captain, you are now under my watch. The task he wants you to do is in the folder, though the most you will to is execute some Jews. What troubles me is that you will reap them so I suggest you do your work as subtly as possible, demons may spot you."

"Execution?" He took the folder. "By my hands? That's rather a given that I'll be as noticed as an actress on stage if I do this."

"Luckily I will be there with you, just in case anything happens; I can root out the demons for you if you so much want."

The suggestion and willingness to help comforted Grell. Perhaps the demon truly cares for him, or he's trying to eliminate any competition he would possibly have with this chance of identifying the demons of Birkenau. Grell was slightly irked and yet relived by Sebastian's gracious actions, he thanked him. "You are truly a gentleman to a woman."

The demon gave a pleasant smile and also said,"You are allowed to leave this place when you are on breaks...the pass card to leave will be ready by tomorrow morning, you are given a week's break so you are allowed to use it and tour Auschwitz, the nearby town, for you leisure."

Grell's eyes lighted up. "Visit the town? We can go on...perhaps an outing together?"

Sebastian shifted around, slightly uncomfortably at the request, and then slowly said,"I suppose we can, a reward to you I say."

"Perfect, a date!"

He thought that his day couldn't have gotten any better than this. He began to see the upside of his time at the camp.


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