The Undertaker opened the backdoor to his funeral shop, stopping his horse so that he may unload the corpses from the wagon. Today had been a good day, he'd managed to sneak quite the hefty sum of cadavers for his collection. It took but a few minutes to have them all placed carefully in his basement and ready for the process to prepare them for their grand debut. He went over to the first one - a certain lady by the name of Margaret Connor. Quite the pretty thing she was, yet that mattered not, he had a job to do. The silverette tied his hair, picked a pair of gloves and his tools.
First, he had to remove the eyes and embalm her, then he could proceed to alter the Records. He made a cut from her chest to her stomach, and began his work. It was simple, and the efficiency of his hands incomparable - she was ready for the second part of the process within the half hour. Just then, there was a knock on his door. He cursed, knowing just who had come by. Grudgingly, his gloves were taken off and hair adjusted, ready to greet the unwanted visitor.
"Oh, Undertaker~ How have you been my ghastly mortician? I hope I've come on a good time." The mortician groaned. "Aleister Chamber, what a delight. I was just finishing up on our most recent guests. Is there anything urgent you need, chap? I'm rather busy." Uncaring or unnoticing of the man's ire, the Viscount settled himself on a preparation table that had been deserted. "Oh, it's not what I need, Unnie hehehe~! It's what Mr. Rian Stoker wants." He strutted up to him, poking the taller man's chest and pulling out a ticket from his coat. To this, he only grimaced; what could the coward want? And Unnie? Hah, no one gets away with calling me that! Fine...maybe Grell. Only her! Wait..what in the nine hells am I thinking!? Shut up, brain! Focus.
"Oh, if that's it then, what does Mr. Stoker want?" He grumbled, resigning to the fact that he'd get nothing done until the Viscount left - and pushing the Red Reaper from his mind. "Rian has planned a little expedition to New York, all the way in America - so we can commercialize the work of the Aurora Society - to start our Empire! We're to leave by May 7th, from Southampton. Everything has been settled already. All the finished 'guests' will be picked up by the Karnstein Hospital staff belonging to our Society by the 5th and set on the ship. Here's your ticket, mister. Don't be late." A slip of paper with elegant print was handed over and the flamboyant man (he didn't carry it as good as the red reaper) bounded over to the door, "Oh, and Doctor Stoker also decided to gift you with a set of five and twenty cadavers for the collection. They should be arriving by tomorrow noon. Ta!" He left with a flair and Undertaker sighed. So much to do… and such little time. Oh well, he would be a busy mortician for the next few days, and he couldn't deny that the idea of travelling interested him. Hopefully Grell would show her pretty face one last time, before he left.
"S-sutcliff! What are you doing here?" The stoic man was hardly taken by surprise, unless it concerned the Dispatch redhead. "Where have you been? None of the Agents have been able to contact you for weeks. No status reports, no appearances in the Library, no phone calls- "
"Willikins!" She sat up from his office chair at the rant. "I'm fine. I told Alan I'd be in Matlock Bath, right? I said two weeks and here I am, a fortnight and two days later. Were you concerned, darling~?" The redhead strutted over to him, a file in her slender hands and a smirk in her face. "Here, this is what I gathered. I think we may need to discuss a few things with a small group of Reapers. Better keep this as quiet as possible." He nodded. "Get your apprentice, as well as Alan and Eric. Will they suffice?"
"Yes, they'll be more than enough. I suggest you go over my reports, while I gather them." Swaying her hips as she left, the strange feeling William had intensified. She was different - more so than he'd ever seen her before. Putting those thoughts aside, he read the reports to catch up. It never did well to be the Supervisor and be unaware of the ongoings on either realm.
The brunette's office door was open and he typed away in his machine. His partner sat in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk, filling out reports and files. More carcases were found without souls. Their numbers were in the high two-digits, making them get overtime by the pile. Rapping the door and strutting in, Grell sat herself in a vacant spot on the desk.
"Afternoon, gentlemen. How delightful to see you." Startled, they both looked at the red figure. "Grell! Ye're back!" Eric exclaimed, dropping his things to crush the Red Reaper in an embrace. Alan too came up to hug her. "Ye got us worried, lass! Wi' all 'ese souls gone missin', we weren't sure what ta think." Grinning, she hugged them back. "Oh, I've been just peachy, you big lummox. The caves in Matlock are simply something to admire! Anyway, William is holding a small meeting with the both of you, Ronnie and me." Her tone became serious, hushing into a whisper. "It's about the soulless corpses - and it's better if it's kept quiet. We'll discuss what I found and possible ways of dealing with it."
"When?" Asked Alan, a frown forming in his face. "Right now. Do you know where I can find Ronnie?" Eric shrugged, but the brunette had an inkling on the youngster's whereabouts. "He's on a break right now, so I wouldn't know. I guess he's flirting though. The front desk might be your best bet." She nodded, and ruffled the smaller man's hair.
"Thanks for covering for me this fortnight, and for the notes, they were very helpful." At hearing that, Alan remembered something he had been meaning to say. "Oh yeah, Grell, before I forget."
"Yes, darling?"
He glared half heartedly, "Don't ever - and I mean ever- leave like that and ask me to cover you without giving me a believable lie first! William almost found me out the other day and he gave me an earful! You know I'm not a good liar." The redhead chuckled, and apologized. "Hahaha~ Oh, sorry Al. I forgot about that. I'll be sure to give you something for next time."
"There won't be a next time."
She winked, "Don't count on it." With that, the woman swayed her hips as she left, a laugh in her lips. The pair finished up the papers and set on putting the rest away for later before heading out to their Superior's office. "I hope we end this soon. I can't stand any more overtime." Eric hummed in agreement, though concern soon spread in his handsome face. "Ye alright, Al? Ta thorns ain't botherin' ye?" Said man smiled warmly. "Not anymore than usual. Thanks for the concern." William's door came into view.
Grell took the elevator to the first floor, easily spotting Ronald right where Alan had told her he would be. She internally smirked, noticing that the girl was Amber, the one she had advised some weeks ago. Also, were those the lilies from Mary Ann's shop? She sniggered, remembering the elder's comment on how her junior was resorting to her shop more than usual.
"Oh Romeo, your cruel mentor has come to take thee away from your Juliet on behalf of the Cold Ice King. He wishes for your presence." She called, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders; to which he flinched in surprise. "S-senpai! When'd ya get back?" Grell flashed them both a smile, showing off her razor teeth. "That's not important at the moment." She pulled him by the arm, turning to face the girl. "I'll send him back once Mr. Spears is finished with him. I'll also make sure your lover comes back in one piece, darling." With a wink, and a blush in Ronald's behalf (and the girl's, though there was still an embarrassed smile on her face), the duo sprinted off and into the Superior's office, where the three other Reapers awaited.
"William, we're back." She sang, letting go of the boy's arm and taking a seat on top of the raven Reaper's desk. "I trust you read what I brought?" He nodded, adjusting his spectacles with his Death Scythe. "Of course. We shall brief the others right now." Grell nodded, cleared her throat, and began.
"Alright. We begin with the fact that the corpses don't have souls at the time of collection. This only means that some supernatural creature has been taking them. Upon research, I discovered that it may be caused by a Necromancer; a human with a soul so strong, they can revive the dead. Then, there is the Aurora Society in London, lead by a certain Rian Stoker. They are said to bring the dead back to life, and as such, are the only suspects available. I went all the way to Matlock, following the trail of one of their experiments." Well, only the last part was a lie, but she wasn't about to reveal she was a Deathling - not just yet anyway.
"Then, what are we to do Senpai?"
"Today's papers announced that they would be leaving the country on the Blue Star line transatlantic 'Campania'. I think the rest of the planning is up to Willy." All sets of eyes turned to him. His glassed were once again adjusted with the edge of his scythe. "Honestly, it's rather obvious that I'm sending Miss Sutcliff and Mr. Knox over to investigate. They shall capture these 'Necromancers', eliminate their means of performing the rituals involved, and - should they perish, collect their Cinematic Records." They all nodded, but Grell, who seemed to have something on her mind. "And if they don't die?"
"I know we are not supposed to meddle, unless there is a valid excuse. I think there is no excuse more valid than this."
"D'ye mean they're gonna kill 'em?" Eric asked, surprised by the answer. That was against the rules: Never kill a human not on the To-Die List. William T. Spears never broke the rules, and he severely punished anyone who did. Grell's punishment from the Jack the Ripper incident was proof enough of that.
"It honestly doesn't please me, but it is for the best for the humans and ourselves. They upset the balance that we struggle to keep, it would be unwise to let them live and continue their activities. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir." They chorused. Nodding firmly, William went back to his desk. "Return to your activities. Mr. Knox, I believe you are due to collect a few souls within ten minutes; as for Mr. Slingsby and Mr. Humphries, I need your reports filed in by the end of the shift." Everyone scrambled away to do as instructed, leaving only Grell and William in the office.
"Sutcliff, fancy a cup of tea?" He offered, getting up to obtain the teapot and cups in the corner. Her astonishment was evident in her voice, "Um… sure." Wordlessly, he served a smooth blend in white china with a pigeon print on a side. "Sugar and cream?"
"Only a bit, darling. Thank you." She was handed the steaming beverage, and blew on it before taking a sip. Perfect! Just how I like it. "Honestly, I wanted to discuss something with you." Ah, there it was, the real reason he let her stay. "Yes, what would that be?" Came the query, casually asked, though on the inside she was itching with curiosity. The ravenette took a seat, drinking his tea. "How did you do it? How did you realize that you couldn't stand being yourself, and decide to change? How aren't you afraid to show your emotions so openly?" There, he said it. It cost him his courage, but if Grell could do it, then by Death so could he.
The redhead regarded him carefully. "Where did all this come from, Will? Are you alright?" He sighed. "I am well, thank you." An unbelieving look came from her face, and he sighed again. "I've been told that I am cold, even heartless at times. I know I am strict, as I should be for this position, but Mr. Knox and other people at the office are correct; I need to learn to relax and express myself more freely - at least out of work. My existence has become monotonous, and despairingly lonely."
A soft smile spread on her face at his confession. "Well, admitting you have to change is a good start, darling. Do you promise that what we talk about next will never leave this office?" He nodded. "I promise."
"Good." A sip of her tea. "This is something you come to realize it on your own. I can't tell you that part, but I can say that I'm willing to help you with what you need, dear. It has to be your decision to change, not anyone else's. You can only change if you so wish it and are willing to go through with it." She paused, making sure to gaze into his Reaper eyes, to know he was understanding. "As for showing emotions, one has to understand that they are nothing to be ashamed of; you feel what you feel, and people can't say anything to you because of that. Once you realize that there is nothing to be afraid of, then there's nothing holding you back."
"But our jobs-"
"Don't control us." She intervened, a serious tone in her voice. "They cannot dictate what we feel. It only requires us to be careful when Reaping. Whoever thought up the title 'Grim Reaper' was wrong. And even if you decide to be so stoic during work, it doesn't mean you can't show your emotions out of it."
"And how do I do that, Sutcliff? I was never one to socialize very well. It is a skill that I lack, unless it is about our jobs." Another comforting smile was thrown his way. "You can start by calling us by our names. No titles, no surnames, it makes it more personal. Talk with someone about something silly, or mindless out of work. Come to me if you want, I'm willing to help, as I already said. You just need practice, darling." She drank the last bit of the beverage, setting the cup on the small platter.
"Let yourself think freely, especially when you're alone." The redhead stood, "I should be going now, I've been dying to reap a few souls. Talk to me, when you need it. I know what it's like to need, but not have. I'll be there." She swayed over to the door, leaving him stunned.
"Grell."
She turned to face him. "Yes, darling?"
"Thank you." A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "You are not what you seem, and I am glad to know you consider me a friend." A soft blush covered her face. "You're welcome, darling. I hope you consider me yours, too." He nodded, not knowing how to express all that was going on in his head. She left, and took to the Mortal Realm.
The air was chilly, and the night young. What a lovely setting for her date with death - she surely would enjoy the dance and the thrill of collecting the Records; she was sure her love would not disappoint. Alas her Ledger was almost cleared by the time the clock struck ten. Staring down at the last soul, Grell decided that it was time to head home.
Her delightful task was not yet finished, and she'd left it alone for far too long already. Grinning, her last soul was dispatched and she walked over to the Big Ben; idle thoughts of the Charon ferrying them through the River and to the Marsh flowing through her mind. Flashing images of falling down the waterfall and landing before a door appeared alongside those, and made her wonder. Made her wonder of her own fate. Being a Reaper was a punishment for taking one's life as a human. That would mean that she herself - and all the other Reapers - had already been through one of the Rivers! She had been ferried by one of the Charon that cheered for her or Thanatos when they raced, had paid them a Danake, they had given her a key, and she had fallen through that very waterfall, landing before a door that would lead her to her destiny.
Immersed in those thoughts, she mused on the reason why she was so different from other Reapers. She was literally born, her mother had given birth to her, when most of her kin simply took a new form. I'll have to ask Osiris, he might know… It was no use to dwell on answerless questions. Not when there were other more important things at the moment.
But that didn't mean that new queries wouldn't arise. There was a passing notion of where her father's soul may have gone after his death. He was a Deathling, so he was even closer knit to the actual Death than any of the Reapers (or Harvesters, as the Deathlings called them). Osiris had to know, so maybe she'd also ask him about that. A sudden emptiness filled her heart, and tears pricked her eyes. She sniffed, breathing deep. This was something she hadn't faced since her beloved father's passing, and every negative emotion soon began to surface.
Deciding to portal then and there, Grell found herself in her room. Madam Red's trench was thrown onto the bed, along with her waistcoat. Arm garters, shoes and pants were removed. The striped ribbon was tied on her hair and the first buttons of her shirt were popped open. Desperately, her tools were scattered, and she picked up her phone, dialing the one number she hadn't since her Academy days.
Ring. Ring. Rin-
"Bonne nuit, qui est-ce?"
"Mama? It's Grell." She awaited, hoping to be heard. There was a pause, a sigh came from the other side of the line. She cringed, already hearing the screams.
"Grell? Ma petite fille?" The redhead exhaled in disbelief. "Oui mama! C'est moi. It's your girl." Still stunned, she confirmed, unable to comprehend that she wasn't being pushed away.
"Oh, my lovely, it's been so long! How have you been? What's going on? I've been so worried about you!" A few tears slipped by unacknowledged. "I've been alright, I thought… I thought you didn't want to see me. I'm sorry I haven't talked."
"Never believe that, my dear. Je suis ta mère, I'll always love you. Now tell me, there is something on your mind - what is it?" Laughing humorlessly, she sniffed to hold back tears. "He~ You always knew when something was wrong."
"Je suis ta mère, I need to know those things."
"I want to speak about Vater." There was a sharp intake of breath from the mother as the words were rushed out.
"What about your father?" Grell picked the sandpaper, gnawing on her lower lip, gathering her thoughts and straightening them out in her head.
"You know how he was a Deathling and all that?"
Welp, that's it for this chapter! Thanks to all of you reading, following and (my fave of all) reviewing! I've been busy and haven't had much time for writing - that makes me feel bad :( especially when I know people like it. So, thanks for your patience, hopefully next chapter will be up sooner!
Until we meet again, my darlings, enjoy!