Chapter 7

It was true. Bray didn't allow her to do much around the castle chore-wise because she was considered his Queen. Royalty in the Dominion. He didn't take that into account when sending her here, but Abigail was flexible. Also, in the foster home, she was forced to do menial tasks such as cleaning, dishes, taking out the trash and scrubbing the floors with a toothbrush if she got out of line.

"You are right, I haven't. My mother is the one who worked and supported us. I cooked and cleaned the house, but that was about it. I've never had an honest working experience and, when she died, I had to learn how to survive on my own. It's been…difficult without her and makes me realize how much I took her for granted." Pulling her hands away from him, Abigail started thinking this was a big mistake coming here, to Wonderful, because everyone was skeptical of her, something she hadn't expected. Still, he was her only hope – her LAST hope and chance – to bring Bray Wyatt down and the DOV, once and for all. "If you give me a chance, I won't disappoint you, Undertaker."

"Stephanie will be able to help find you something to do. You may have a bed at the common house for now."

They had proper housing, but that was usually reserved for people who had been here awhile, with families. Building onto Wonderful was something he and Steve had been discussing, but that would require expanding the wall. Taker was still thinking on how to do that without overtaxing himself.

"You coming out tonight, boss or…"

He shook his head, more focused on eating, though he was observing Abigail thoughtfully. Finally, he raised a hand, dismissing them.

"Come on, honey, let's go get you bunked for the night."

"Thank you."

Abigail followed Steve out of the room and down the stairs back outside, the night air crisp and cool against her skin. Nobody was allowed outside at night at the castle, mostly due to the fact that's when the breeding would take place. Abigail looked down at her hands, soft and barely touched. She didn't know what true hard work was. She didn't know what hardship was because she'd been pampered by Bray, for the most part, since age 16. The walk back was made in silence and Abigail walked back into the common house, seeing the mess the hall/bar was in. Dishes, garbage…did people really not know how to throw their trash away? Apparently not.

"Gather the dishes and put them in the back. Do you know how to do dishes?"

A few times she'd done them at the castle, but Bray had put a stop to it. "I will learn, no matter how long it takes." She started the water and looked at the huge bottle of soap on the counter, pouring some in as the bubbles began to form.

"That's good, but next time, don't use that much. Otherwise, you'll have a sink full of suds and won't be able to find the dishes."

"Okay."

"Sorry," Stephanie said after realizing she probably sounded like a total ass. "I'm tired, it's been a long fucking day. And… you don't want to slop bubbles all over the floor." She looked down at the floor, sighing. "Mind you, it probably needs it. Steve, send in some help please, I want these tables moved. This floor is filthy…"

"I'll send in Shaw and John. I got to get back to patrols." Steve said, nodding at her and then winked at Abigail before heading out.

A few minutes later, John came bouncing in, laughing when he seen Stephanie trying to lift a table by herself. "M'lady ring for some muscles?" He teased.

"Abbie, this is John and he's a shameless flirt. He's only any good BECAUSE of his muscles, ain't a damn thing between his ears."

"Harsh, homie girl."

Another John…only this one was built MORE than the previous one, shorter, but definitely more muscular. He had bright blue eyes, kind, and an army crewcut for hair. Abigail bit her bottom lip, trying not to laugh at the 'homie girl' line and failed, not remembering the last time she laughed.

"I can mop the floors for you after I do the dishes, Stephanie, if you want." Since she would be staying here for the foreseeable future, Abigail would work day and night or night and day to ensure she paid her way.

"Are you sure? You look dead on your feet, no offense…"

Honestly, Abigail had gotten plenty of rest at the castle, to last her a lifetime, and she never felt more alive now that she was free. "I'm sure. I'll go to sleep after the dishes and floors are mopped, I promise."

"She new?"

"Brand spanking."

"Go on, Steph, I'll sit with her." John said after a moment, surveying Stephanie thoughtfully. "Go on to bed, I'll be there shortly." He winked at her.

"Oh, go on!" She laughed, cheeks red and nodded. "I'll see you in the morning, Abbie, we'll work something out then."

Bradshaw walked in next and the men began moving the tables and chairs, stacking them out of the way and chatting quietly as they did so. When they were finished, Shaw went to get Abigail some hot water and lye for the floors while John retrieved the mop. Neither of them were aware that their behavior was anything atypical for her.

"Need me for anythin' else, ma'am?"

Men being ordered around by women…men calling her ma'am instead of the other way around with 'sir'. Abigail had really entered the twilight zone and shook her head at him with a soft smile. "No, John and…John." That was confusing as hell. "Okay, since both of you have the same first name, do you mind if I call one of you by your last or something different. Or maybe I can call the army guy here Johnny to separate the two of you?"

"Fine by me."

"Now hold on a minute!"

The blue-eyed John looked more like a Johnny anyway and Abigail grinned before beginning to mop the floors with the lye, dipping it in the bucket of water while the dishes soaked in the sink. The tables would have to be moved back to where they were once she finished mopping, but Abigail knew the real reason why Johnny was sticking around. He was her babysitter, to make sure she wasn't up to no good.

Just because he was a technical babysitter didn't mean anything. She was new. She was an unknown and it was just how things were. Unfortunately, the world was at war, thanks to Bray Wyatt and his Dominion of Vesperia, what an asshat. Johnny was eyeballing her, sure, but he wasn't a jerk about it. When Bradshaw finally left, he began walking after Abigail, old rags under his feet and skated along, drying the floor in her wake, so he could put the tables and chairs back. When she gave him a look, he grinned with a shrug.

"Hey, I'm tired and I bet you are too. Quicker we get this done, quicker we can hit the bricks, right? Did Stephanie show you where you'd be sleeping?" She shook her head and he nodded; Stephanie had been really tired. "You'll get either one of the bunks or a cot, just depends who took what tonight." Common houses meant shared housing. There were only a handful of tiny ass bedrooms and Stephanie had one. There were the 'checkup when check-in' room and then a larger bedroom, where sick people were usually quarantined. Everyone else got to share the open floor plan style room up, accessible via a ladder. Cots and bunk beds, pallets on the floor, it was clean, warm and better than the ground.

"Thank you for the help. Nice moves, by the way."

While he wiped up the floor, drying it with the towels, Johnny was dancing, and it was amusing to witness while she continued mopping. Granted, she wasn't planning on drying the floor at all, just letting it air-dry, but perhaps what he was doing was safer. Once she finished, Abigail wiped her forehead and set the mop aside in the bucket, after dumping the dirty water out in the other sink that wasn't soaking with the dishes. Johnny was right, she was extremely tired and dead on her feet, but Abigail needed to finish her task, which was a stack of dishes. So, this was what hard work and labor felt like…and it felt great to be able to do things for other people for a change.

This woman was incredibly slow… she had to be tired. John made himself useful, rinsing and drying for her while she washed. He then showed her where everything went and, by the time they were done, he was ready to go crawl in Stephanie's bed and cuddle. It had been a long day.

"Okay, so women's restroom and showers are over there," He pointed across the room. "Men have behind the kitchen and up here," He began climbing a ladder to the upper room. "Is where people who don't have their own housing sleep." His voice had dropped to a whisper. "Just find an empty bed and call it yours. Nobody will bother you."

Slow was due to the fact she wasn't experienced, but the more she did it, the faster and easier it became. "Thank you. Good night, Johnny." She whispered back, shaking his hand and walked over to where an empty bed lay near the window, the moon streaming into it.

This spot was perfect and reminded her of the castle as well as the foster home. Silently, she sat on the bedding, which was comfortable enough and set her bag beside her, pulling the covers up to snuggle with. Abigail was out before her head fully hit the pillow, every part of her body aching from cleaning, but she also felt liberated.


"This shit sucks… I miss the good old days when you could call a contractor to come do this shit and have your insurance pay for it."

"Shut up and get back to work, it's too hot out here for this shit."

"Agreed. Austin, shut up."

Repairing houses was not high on his list of fun, but… it had to be done. Recent storms had done some mild damage to infrastructure. Steve, Bradshaw and himself were up on the roof of one of the houses, relaying the shingles.

"So says the dickbag who is wearing long hair today." Steve snorted, moving carefully across a weak spot and then looked up into his own face. "I'm pretty sure… that's an abuse of your powers."


Abigail was up just as the sun rose over the horizon and helped Stephanie, Amy, and Trish, the drunken blonde she'd saw making out with Steve the previous night, with breakfast. The common house-made three meals daily for people that didn't have homes, herself included. Today's menu was biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Abigail wore an old apron Stephanie let her borrow and her hair was once again braided over her shoulder, after she'd had a rather cool shower. The hot water had been taken, but that was fine by her since it was a whopping 90 degrees today. Her clothes were shorts -Stephanie lent them to her-, blue jean, along with a red tank top. Stephanie had shown her how to knead the dough, making biscuits from scratch while she did the bacon and gravy since it required the grease from the bacon.

"You know, it's mostly just me and Ames running this place, and cooking for all these hungry folk, on top of cleaning and everything else." Stephanie explained, knowing Abigail would need to be trained, which was fine. "The guys come help out when we need some muscle or just another hand, but it'd be nice to have another full-timer around here. What do you think?" Before Abigail could answer, the bell over the door sounded and she looked over her shoulder. "Shit, they're going to be starving. They were up at the asscrack of dawn working on houses. Who the fuck you supposed to be today, boss?"

"Dealer's choice." He smirked, his hair hanging down to the middle of his back, jet black, a goatee and mustache combo adorning his pale face. Like Steve and John, he was in only working jeans and boots, bare from the waist up, revealing a multitude of tattoos across his upper body. His eyes today were a gray-green, less acid.

"You should've seen him and Steve, two of them, it was disgusting."

"I – um – yeah, that sounds good, Stephanie…"

Abigail couldn't believe the difference from the previous night, the change and suddenly remembered what Bray warned her about. The disguises. Was this the Undertaker's true form? His face was completely healed too, the mask gone and…Abigail had to turn away, hearing the oven go off and pulled the biscuits out. She pulled the oven mitt on, sliding them out and set them on the rack to cool for a minute or two while Trish finished with the eggs. The gravy was done, a huge pot of it, and there were at least 60 biscuits done so far. She immediately popped the next batch in, turned the timer on and took the oven mitt off before turning around, only to slam right into Mr. Disguise himself.

"Oh shit, sorry!"

"Accepted." He grunted, without looking at her, busy reaching up to pull down a stack of large plates. If she knew who he was, it was because Stephanie had called him 'boss'. "Watch it." Taker grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the stove, pushing the gravy off the still-hot burner. "It goes off when you're done."

"Oh shit, please don't get a third-degree burn… those cast-iron pots and pans will mess you up!" Stephanie yelped, wishing she had remembered to tell the new worker. "Boss, are you still planning on going outside the walls today?"

He nodded. "You have the lists?"

"Yes, everyone made one and I pooled them together and cut down to the essentials. Non-essentials are on the back, I'll go grab it."

This truly was the Undertaker. The same man with the mask and disfigured eye…the short-cropped auburn hair…it was as if it never existed. He was completely different, and Abigail could only nod at his warning along with Stephanie's. What the hell was going on here? Did he truly have magical powers that allowed him to change form? Bray had said something about a talisman. Could he use that talisman to liberate the people of the DOV and destroy it? Abigail busied herself with the biscuits, trying to clear her mind, so she didn't make a mistake and put another set of biscuits in. Stephanie ordered her to start serving the food, bringing it out to the people pouring in and made sure to give each person the exact amount. The men, Undertaker's men, were the first to be served along with the man himself. She set their plates down and tried to hide her surprise when they thanked her.

"You're welcome, enjoy." Then she hightailed it back into the kitchen to start filling her serving tray up again.

The gates and surrounding areas of Wonderful were open during the day, so long as the Undertaker was in residence. People were able to come and go freely, always through the arches, which served as weapon detectors. When he left, and this was a secret only he knew, the magical protection went with him. That was why there were soldiers patrolling the walls and the borders in shifts. Taker wasn't leaving anything to chance. The DOV had tried a few times to push through, and each time, they had been sent packing. There were too many women and children housed in Wonderful; if the DOV actually made it through… his eyes turned acid briefly.