Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji

Hands deftly worked to open William's shirt, Undertaker grew frustrated and ripped it open instead after fumbling for a few seconds. The man was loosing blood quickly, his Cinematic Records had spilled out, and his soul was just a glimpse away from being ready to reap. Undertaker fumed and examined the bleeding hole on the crook of William's neck. "A freak accident," he uttered to himself as he bent lower to check the one between his ribs. Grell stood by, whimpering even louder as the Cinematic Records snaked around the street. Undertaker checked his pulse at his neck and discovered that the rhythmic beating was gone. "...shit..."

That one little word set off Grell.

The red reaper wailed and kicked away one of the masked men, he raced over and grabbed the scruff of Undertaker's collar. "He's dead, isn't he? He's dead!"

Undertaker looked away from Grell and towards the bloody mess on the ground, then he brushed Grell's hands away and stood up from his squatting position. Easily, the man towered over Grell, he glared down at him in a warning to not touch him once more. He glanced over at the masked group, they stared back at him from behind their decorated masks, each man held his breath. Alan was still held up by one of them, Undertaker advanced towards him, out of fear, Alan was instantly released. The younger reaper scrambled to his feet and rushed to be by Eric as Undertaker strode passed every mask.

"Which one of you is responsible for this?" He demanded.

No answer.

A silver sickle came forth and was at the ready to behead anybody he sought fit.

"Come now, or shall I start hunting down the ones responsible?" Undertaker grinned, a gleam in his eye meant business. "It's said that the Vatican Division demands deaths to be honorable, just like the Kyoto Division of Japan. Death by a reaper is better than having me report your deaths as a cause by a mere human. Correct?"

"Dario, Aldo...go forth and accept the consequence," said the one with the bird mask. The Vatican reapers shuffled to the side to reveal the two riders that stayed in the back of the crowd. Once Undertaker caught their eyes, he lunged forward and swung his sickle in one smooth motion. Heads flew from the bodies as the two unfortunate reapers fell to their knees and then their fronts; Undertaker stopped one of the heads from rolling any further with the heel of his boot. "Still ruthless you are, nothing's changed."

Alan watched in horror as Undertaker stepped harder onto the head until it was crushed under his weight. The young reaper threw his head to the side and vomited at the gruesome sight, it was as if he were a child that had walked into something inappropriate. Undertaker's death scythe absorbed the Cinematic Records that spilled from the bodies, his eyes barely taking note of the two souls he was collecting.

"Well, eye for an eye, yes? More of an eye for a pair of them," Undertaker said,"you were here longer than I suspected of you all being so, I thought this village would be finished off by now."

"Apologies." The bird-man bowed deeply and came back up. "But must I wonder why we must continue to carry out your order. You slain four of our reapers...two by accident and two by purpose. And your Council had been demolished to nothing but two I hear. Amazing, being the most organized Division in the entire Reaper Realm, you had all fallen to barbaric ways and wear nothing but rags upon your backs. Even your once respectable image makes me want to laugh."

He chuckled as the others murmured in agreement, Undertaker leered at him but he was unfazed by the subtle threat.

"What are you? A retired reaper or a human beggar?" He broke into laughter. "I thought London was always carried the mental ones, of course you all do! Legendary or not, I would love to spend time to laugh some more at you-"

"There is a specific reason why I wanted this town destroyed as soon as possible," Undertaker growled, he brought his death scythe up towards the sky; William's Cinematic Records came and encircled the silver sickle like a snake would to a pot of water, he directed his death scythe towards the Vatican reapers and the Cinematic Records burst forth, each embedding themselves into the chest of every man save for the one with the mask of a bird.

The man gritted his teeth and unsheathed his sword, though it offered little protection when Undertaker exploded with a ground shaking roar,"Destroy this town and the memories that haunt it, else be it that haunts you!"

He wretched back his death scythe and the strips of film pulled away from the men, leaving them out of breath and possibly out of their minds. Their leader was in shock, his sword barely held up but he clutched it tighter with a firmer grip. There were cries from the rooftops and the streets, doors said to have been decayed to nothing opened and closed shut, and windows said to have been shattered rattled in their window panes. Thunders from the buildings came to echo into their ears as Undertaker threw back his head and crackled his throat as if he were one with the town.

"I was a guardian of this place before, the poor souls that linger by are willing to fallow me like lambs to a shepher-"

"Undertaker, stop that!" William shouted, silence befell them and the haunting stopped. The silver reaper ceased his movements and lowered his death scythe to the ground, then he sent it away quietly. The Cinematic Records that had fluttered around him had suddenly drew back to the respective body that housed the soul owner of them. A few gasps from the reapers came as Grell sat back in shock, the man who had seemed to have lost life had regained it without answer.

The mortician's lip twitched as he looked back to see William sitting up, wounds instantly mending themselves. "...you always manage to stay alive, don't you? Even from the wounds from a death scythe, you still live."

William seemed to struggle for air, Grell could only watch him with mouth wide open. One second he's seeing William's Cinematic Records and then the next, he's seeing them retreat and even mind his own body in the process. Grell wanted to reach out to touch him but the man suddenly got up from where he sat, his hand reached for his pruning tool and used it to to support himself. He extended it and leaned against it lazily. Alan and Eric also stared at him as if he were from another planet.

Reapers can't get up, especially having their heart pierced by a death scythe. It's just not right.

"Not to sound unrelieved, but why is he up and running?" Eric spluttered. "That's not normal-"

"He swore to never rest until the demon he seeks is brought to justice...or so the story went. There will be times when his will is weak...but at a place like this, I doubt he'd want to perish like a dog to the stake," Undertaker snickered,"the name fits him...and with his Rip resorted to his soul, I bet he would be even more stronger. A formidable opponent, don't you say? He has what reapers don't normally have. That burning hatred...a very dangerous thing...I guess beheading your men was a fault of mine, I honestly thought William wouldn't come back for a moment there."

Undertaker gave a bow to the Vatican reaper instead, but it was a deep one that brought him to his knees. The masked man clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. From the way they growled, they were agitated by him.

"Do you accept my most humble apology?...Signore Marcello del Vaticano?" ("Sir Marcello of the Vatican?")

The man grunted,"Fine...but now that you are here...what is do you need to speak of? We were ready to destroy this town for your orders until these reapers came out of nowhere." When he meant these, he nodded to the group that stood in the center of the street by William. "A strange team you have."

"Raoul Sylvestre is the soul we are after, a problem with that is he has the ability to exchange souls with one another. I fear for the safety of Ronald Knox, I only came back to warn you of this..."

As the two men immersed themselves into the conversation, the three London reapers turned to face William with burning questions, but the latter held his hand up to silence the. "I know where Sylvestre is, the souls told me so. Whatever you need to say, just do so later. Right now, you need to catch Ivan before he reaches the Wilshires Manor, he will harvest Knox's soul instead if you fail to go now." He had returned to his composed self, it was as if the accident never happened and he never died before them. He readied to leave but Grell grabbed his wrist.

"Why are you asking us to go fetch Ronnie? What do you me-"

"Just fallow my orders and do what I ask without question!" William snapped at Grell, he wretched away his hand but simultaneously, a long earsplitting scream came from a far distance. Heads turned to find the source as Undertaker growled,"A scream like that means..."

"Ivan's already found him," Marcello finished for him,"or it could be the other way around...we will leave the Manor to your hands I suppose, a bloodbath there I can guess. We will demolish this town as asked, we came all this way without reaping a soul, and my men are eager to get their hands dirty." Undertaker nodded to him and turned to face the reapers in a group.

He cleared his throat. "All of you, head for the Manor and do what you can to fix all of this, better yet, end it if possible. Of you go...go, go...to work you go! Away with you!"

The group, more than eager to get things over with, nodded and ran with William at the head. Undertaker watched their forms shrink into the distance while the crowd dispersed into pairs that raced around the town, leaving Marcello with the mortician. "You were the reaper assigned to collect souls from this place, weren't you? Why didn't you do so earlier?"

"It was a complicated situation, the night everything burned down and all...you know the Executioner?" Marcello nodded, but he closely fallowed Undertaker as the reapers began to make flames dance around them. Crumbled buildings were ignited, ravens flew overhead; if it were night time, the scene would have be a reenactment of the distant past. Souls screamed as their sanctuaries were desecrated, death scythes took the form of swords to reap, and Cinematic Records began to fill the air. Marcello was weary of Undertaker, he was well known throughout the Realms for the souls he reaped and the battles he was involved in.

He was also well known for forming pacts with demons, a dangerous task but one that would gladly carry on. Demons weren't the only creatures that could manipulate and create contracts.

"...he is a demon. A pure demon from the depths of Hell. Of course, taste of a reaper's soul is much more delicious than a human's he says. I offered him a job as being an executioner for us, so long as he stays in the Execution Circle then there would be no harm in anyone. There's no need to worry for him..."

"And they say you're the true demon," Marcello murmured,"making contracts with humans..."

"Human." Undertaker snickered as he corrected him. "It's possible for our kind to create contracts, we are all about business in the Realm aren't we? As much as Society loves to exaggerate stories, I only created one contract with William. I suppose that's what kept him alive as well, I love corrupted souls...being driven by the vows of revenge, it just makes them ruthless against demons..."

Marcello stopped, mouth wide open at the things the mortician was saying to him. He was awestruck at what he was hearing. Words were plain and clear but the true meaning was subtle, somewhere between those twisted lines that Undertaker wove into his speech. "So...you mean to say that the reaper you contracted with, he's merely used as a weapon? Or could he be your own personal toy? If so, the you're nothing more than another Raoul Sylvestre-"

Undertaker exploded into laughter,"What a perfect creation he truly is!...or more like was..." But then his hand shot out and grabbed the Italian by the throat. The decorated Venetian mask fell from his face, revealing a silver haired man that was aged slightly with winkles and a white beard, his glasses were lined with gold and his eyes were as normal as any other reaper's. His decrepit face began to turn blue under pressure, his hands grabbed Undertaker's wrist to claw at them under gloved hands. "Assurance to you, old Marcello, his true powers are only brought forth from his memories. Perhaps this is the day he'll show his colors. What's life without a few laughs, eh?"

"Kah! Hnmmm! Puh...!"

He scowled at the man's weakness.

"Hold your breath, I know you can't suffocate, we don't need to even breathe! Now, William was an interesting soul to work on." He gave a small nod in his own agreeableness. "You see, evil in things can work out pretty smoothly, but when it came to domestication in our Society, he was nothing more than a savage...ugh, the messes I had to clean up after him were a pain." He suddenly released Marcello and the man fell to the ground on his front, his hand at his throat trying to soothe the muscle. "Tch...still an old man...I'll see you when you're finished with this...remember to burn everything..."

The Italian reaper still sat where he was, head lowered, but he managed to rasp out,"Undertaker...that's the name you go by?"

"Yes...is that a problem you have?"

"A strange alias you have, Sir-"

"Breathe my true name if you dare, it'll be your last," he snarled, Marcello winced at the threat and allowed the mortician to leave.

-...-

"How is it that you still live?"

"..."

"...Spears?"

"It's just how it's been."

That was his short answer.

The group continued on, streaking through the streets and easily evading its growing flames. Clearly, the three reapers witnessed a death scythe pierce through his body and even saw his soul emerge from the Cinematic Records. At first thought, it wasn't human but William wasn't human to being with. So it wasn't reaper for William to suddenly come back to life, they were dead and if they died, they stay dead. But he returned, alive and functional as if nothing happened.

Alan tried to think it over in his mind. He never read anything like this. Reapers reviving after having a death scythe slice through them, for all Alan knew, the shears could have pierced his heart! Reapers don't just get up and walk without a scratch! "...Mr. Spears, you honestly aren't...dead, are you?"

"I will never die until I find the demon that ruined me," he answered quickly, it left no room for further inquiries. Grell flew by him but remained a safe distance while Eric stayed in the back to keep Alan in pace with everyone else. "Grell, you spoke of me being human, you asked me to show some sort of humanity. There it was, you saw it and I just said so."

Grell crooked his head. "...getting up from Death is not human-"

"Having the strength to do that is human. Think of that and you'll be able to comprehend my situation." He adjusted his glasses with his death scythe and continued on. They had barely made it out of the town and were now approaching the Wilshire Manor. Even though it was falling apart it still held its unique grandness, along with its landmark of a tower that Grell had grew weary of; in the Everto, it was completely restored though the ruined form had its own beauty as well.

The dirt road they had taken had the fresh imprints of horse hooves and wheels.

"Ivan was here," Eric said aloud for everyone, but then the track veered off course towards an open field. Concern grew to each one of them, even Willian began to raise his anxiety as he lead everyone in the general direction of where Ivan had left his marks. They were off course from the Manor but their goal was for Ivan, and they found his cart smashed against a large ancient oak tree, horses missing and no Ivan found. Grell's nostrils flared and his lips twitched as they stopped in front of the wreckage.

The wheels were torn off, probably from skidding too far, and supplies were scattered around. Crates and wooden panels were cracked and splintered, and the sight of Ivan's hat at their feet was never a good sign. The stench of death and blood soon reached their noses, Grell exclaimed,"He's under the cart!"

It was upturned with most of the splintered debris pressing the ground, Eric quickly sped to the wreckage and, with ease, pushed the cart over so that it was on its somewhat correct position. With a better view of the oak's truck, blood was splattered up its trunk, sitting at the bottom with the roots was Ivan. Amazingly his body was intact with only the crimson liquid splashed down his front, dying his clothes red. His breaths were short and faint, eyes lacked their tense glare that made anyone shrink at the sight of them.

He was struggling to breathe, not that reapers needed to, or he was struggling to speak. Ivan trembled in his spot, hands resting on the ground. Eric was the closest but he began to step away. They did nothing but watch him. "Will...is this what you're talking about?...being human?" Grell suddenly felt drawn to him, he slowly approached and got to his knees by his side. "Very interesting how that term can go many ways-"

"Samantha," he instantly gasped out, Ivan managed to bring a bloodied hand to Grell's face. The redhead tried to draw away but then Ivan wrapped his fingers into his hair, tangling them and forcing him to stay in place. "I'm so sorry...I shoulda listened to you...sweet baby, I shoulda let you off with that boy, he woulda made a fine family with you. Samantha, baby Samantha...why didn't I notice these things?"

"Grell, get away from him," William warned sharply, he sensed that Ivan's babbling was caused by something that seemed to posses him. There was overwhelming guilt that can make anyone regret their actions, but the way Ivan was speaking out to them was disturbing. Grell wanted to pull away but he stared deeply into the man's eyes as if he were entranced by them, and he was, but only because they held silver dancing within his orbs.

If Grell had to guess what made Ivan speak, it would be that Cinematic Rips were in Ivan's body eating away his soul in a manner the Thorns of Death would.

"I only cared more for the money than what you needed. Shoulda told that boy to stay home...shouldn'ta asked him to impress me. Samantha, I didn't mean to...I'll kill Raoul just for you, for your mama and sisters. I couldn't save you then...God help me. I...can't go on anymore. Get Undertaker to bury me with my family, Samantha, I want to rest with them in Heaven...be a good girl for whoever you find, alright?" Ivan weakly smiled at Grell and slowly released his hair, he caressed his cheek with such gentleness that Grell even leaned into the touch.

But then his hand dropped and his eyes closed lazily. Any passerby would have said that he was sleeping, but the reapers knew he was dead.

"We should reap him before Raoul does," Alan murmured, he and Eric stood side by side, hands holding though it was Alan holding more tighter than Eric. Grell shifted back and managed to get to his feet, he dusted his knees and turned to look at them. Eyes met his, Grell thought in his mind that he would have been mistaken for Samantha because of his own eyes.

"A shame, his will wasn't strong enough to keep him alive then," William roughly concluded. "...we found him, I suppose we should leave..."

A sinister chuckle came from the treetops above, they whipped their heads left and right before finally looking upwards to see Ronald laying coolly on the branches; he was laid-back with barely a care in the world. By now they began to realize why Ivan was covered in blood. With the realization of this, even William went off to the side to vomit at what he saw. Chunks of flesh and torn parts of Ivan's precious horses were hung on display for anyone to see.

Their heads were tucked into the crooks of branches, limbs were strung like ornaments to a Christmas tree, and tails dangled from where Ronald sat. Eric suddenly tore his hand away from Alan's taut grasp and instantly covered the smaller reaper's eyes. Grell's eyes were wide, why hadn't they seen this earlier? Could it be that Ronald did this as they were distracted by Ivan's last words? It was short though, but Ronald sometimes finished his work quickly but always done it sloppily.

"He's utterly pathetic, isn't he? The hilarious part is that he's bound for Hell." Ronald smirked and sat up to a proper sitting position. "Like the decoration? This tree seemed a bit too boring...needed some color, Grell should agree-"

Eric murmured something, it was inaudible but it was directed at Ronald.

"Sorry, Eric, what was that?" Ronald cupped a hand around his ear and leaned a bit more to listen. "Can't hear you..."

"What the fuck is this Knox? The fuck, have you lost your mind? !" Eric shouted.

"Ah, you weren't updated...I'm not Knox-"

"Raoul Sylvestre exchanged souls with Ronald Knox, right now, we need to subdue him in order to straiten things out. I say, go and reap his soul, but be mindful of the body," William quickly instructed while adjusting his glasses,"if you can, use the flat side of your death scythes."

Ronald suddenly stood up on his spot. "Oh, a fight in a tree? This has to be interesting...if you can't use the sharp parts of your weapons against me then use it against some Rips, I'm sure they pose a bigger threat than I can, after all...the more hateful the soul, the more vicious the Rips, am I right or am I just messing with you?" He waved his hand and a burst of light came from Ivan's spot, Grell managed to leap out of the way as several Cinematic Rips snaked out from Ivan's eye sockets.

They hissed and rattled their strips as they decided to pick their targets, Eric scooped Alan into his arms and quickly evaded the attack while William used his death scythe for defense. The Rips clashed with the metal and he gritted his teeth to fight against them, he thrust his pole upwards and the Rips suddenly came for Ronald. With a lazy wave of his hand, the Rips veered away from him and dove for Grell. The redhead summoned his death scythe but a second too late.

Grell attempted to shield himself but his eyes proved too useless to see the Rips, only flashes of silver were seen until they suddenly closed in on him, quickly entering through his dull eyes and penetrating into his soul. Again, when he thought he was strong enough to hold off the hallucinations he saw with Samantha's eyes, the Rips triggered memories to play through his mind, though they went through in the most excruciating way. Grell screamed and his chainsaw clamored out of his hand, screams from William and Alan filled the air until he heard Samantha's voice ring through his ears.

"Let's go to your special place, we can talk everything over as I devour your soul."

A/N: To briefly explain William, one of the factors of why he survived from his death scythe is due to having the determination to fight through and never rest until he has his revenge. If you were paying attention, his wife was defiled by a demon and so he wants to destroy that particular one, therefore, he became a reaper out of the need to have vengeance and justice done to the said demon. But anyway, willpower (no pun intended) is basically his drive for revenge, William prefers to call it "strength" while Undertaker prefers to say "corruption". It's only up to you guys to determine which of the two can truly describe his determination.

Marcello translates into "young warrior" in Italian and Aldo means "little old sword" and Dario means "wealthy".

And I feel like this chapter was rushed, ha ha. Apologies~!

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