The first thing you realized is that you are alive.
But the second… was that you are in a lot of pain.
Slowly, you began to blink, but you were met with an utter darkness. The walls around you… were close. Way too close… you couldn't… you needed to…
Are you in a…
You began to breath heavily. No! Where are you?! In a coffin!? Your hand hit your walls, but you didn't hear dirt. You tried to reach up for the lid to pry it away, but nothing. You were too weak.
But if you summon your energy… plus, your claustrophobia…
In your panic, your body flew upward, and you pushed past your pain as you hit the lid, hard, with your fists, then your arm, and with a pained yelp you managed to move the lid, just enough, so you could see the light in the corner of your vision. Noticing the light, your eyes strained, but you let your body slumped back onto the fluffy ground, only to slowly lift your body back up as you continued to breath heavily.
You needed air. Air! No, you can't take this!
Your fingers managed to pry through the light, blocking your view for a moment, but your grip on the lid shifted the heavy wood before it slipped further and further down, hitting the ground with a loud 'thud'. You gasped, your breathed heavily, your hand gripping your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Tears dripped down your face at the thought of being trapped. Being in the dark. You know it's a terrible phobia, it isn't something too hard to conquer, but… you can only deal with so much.
Darkness, fine. Even heights, fine, but closed in spaces? Nuh uh.
You put your head into your hand, your elbow against your upwardly bent knee as you tried to steady yourself. Calm your shaking body. That… wasn't fun.
But the distant memory of being buried alive didn't help with your fears, either.
How troublesome.
But before you could truly take in your current predicament, you heard a door creeping open. Your head turned, just slightly, before you slowly began to take in what began to slip into the room you were currently confined in. It was a tall dark figure, clad in black robes, with a gray sash across his chest, tied in a precarious manner at his side. A black top hat with a long black tassel down his backside, and… pale, scarred skin, shielded by long flowing, unnaturally silver locks of hair.
You just stared at him utterly confused, before you felt a sharp pain in your side and your hand snapped to your side, noticing the warm crimson blood that was… coming out of the side of a white nightgown. What?
Your eyes narrowed in suspicion before snapping back to glare at the man, who giggled at your angry state of being. "My, my, what's this~? One of my guests have awoken from the grave~~" he giggled, but your eyes glanced away from him as your eyes went back to your side, then to your chest.
Whatever movement you heard, or any voices you could hear, slowly began to drown away as your eyes began to roll back into your head and you fell back into the bedding, your hand gripping your side in pain. You shuddered, tightly closing your eyelids in an attempt to see and think clearly, but before you knew it, your eyelids opened back up as you felt your body being moved, and your gaze hazily looked over to that same black cloaked man, apparently carrying you… somewhere. "I'm… not dead," you managed to mumble, hearing a slight giggle in response, but your mind was drifting away, again.
Whoever this is, whatever is going on…
You're too tired.
You don't care anymore.
You just need to… sleep. Yeah, just… sleep…
! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !
Slowly, your eyelids to flicker open. Your pain… seemed… different. The room were you in wasn't bright at all. On the contrary. It was very… dark, but strangely relaxing.
But you could smell the overwhelming stench of decay and death, and as you felt yourself coming back from your resting, you could hear the door opening, causing your head to slightly tilt to the side as a familiar cloaked figure walked in, stopping for a moment to notice you were awake, before giggling to himself and placing the tray he had in his hands down on a nearby table. "Aren't you an interesting one~" he snickered as he drew nearer, but while you should be fearful of this… guy.
Something was off… but you weren't afraid about it. On the contrary.
Like meeting a very old, unique friend… for the very first time.
Again.
But noticing you weren't speaking, he slowly sat down on the edge of your bedside, giving you a light smile while you stared at him, confused. "Can you remember who you are? Hmm~?"
"Ah… I… yeah," you responded, but he noticed your hands reaching for your side, then for your chest, and he rose to his feet and giggled to himself.
"You were in a very sorry state when we found you, my dear. I'm surprised you're still alive, after all of the cuts and bruises. A normal~ human shouldn't have survived," he giggled, causing you to give him a curious look in response, but then you let your own little smirk appear on your face as you slowly rose up in the bed, sighing to yourself and letting a soft hum leave your breath in thought, but before he could say something else you decided to interject.
"Says the deadliest~ of morticians. Makes me wonder if a retired office man like yourself should be making quick assumptions," you smirked in reply, noticing his grin falling on his face before you let out another groan, sitting up a bit more in the bed to try to straighten your posture.
Even if you're in pain, you didn't want to develop a terrible hump or lump in your back. If your father taught you anything useful, it'd be to act intimidating, no matter how weak you really are. It's always a good strategy when handing out any sort of orders. Makes you seem… bigger then you actually are.
"… You healed me. And used string only a grim reaper would have… Am I wrong to assume you're some rogue?" you decided to ask, though the curious tone in your voice was enough to cause a slight grin to return back to his face, growing wider at the raised eyebrow you were giving him in return.
"Geh eheh~… My, my~. I've uncovered a very interesting human indeed~" he snickered, and you smiled meekly at him before glancing away, your eyes wandering around the dark room.
While you have the traits of a reaper, when activated, your sight is still top notch. Sure, you're going to start to need glasses at some point in your life, but… The room was still rather small, but it wasn't as confining as the damn box you were shoved into. That's for sure. But you realized… you were on a rather uncomfortable examination table, though a bit padded, was probably used for corpses… or whatever bodies happen to end up on this table.
Maybe you don't even want to know.
"… Something wrong?" you heard him ask, but you gave him a curious glance before smiling, turning your head away once more, and shaking your head. "… What sort of scuffle were you in, my dear? Demons, perhaps?"
You paused, and he gave you a curious look at the sudden realization lining your face. "Shit," you mumbled, your eyes shifting around as you thought about the current situation. Well, considering you're here and not dead, that must mean… the world hasn't completely ended, right?
But where are the others? The kids? Rosie? Your unit?
Before you could scramble out of the bed, he placed a firm, yet gentle bony hand upon your chest, causing you to give him an annoyed look, but you reluctantly let him press you backward until you were back upon the bed, before he grinned and began to make his way to his tray. "Now, now~. No need to be in a hurry, my dear. You're still recovering."
"R-right, but –"
"But?" he gave you a curious look, but as you closed your lips, realizing maybe you were saying too much, his smile faded for a moment before coming back, ten fold, as he let a light hum leave his breath. You couldn't help but try to glance over at whatever he was doing, but as he came back to your side, where your fresh stitches are, you realized he must be attending to your wounds. Again. "… You don't have to do all this," you mumbled, his head glancing up at your tired looking face, but you glanced to blink at him as he snickered in reply.
"And leave a poor girl defenseless? Not at all, my dear. I'm happy to be of service~" he giggled to himself, but you gave him a curious look before letting your eyes fall to your gown. "Now, if you don't mind, I –"
"Right. Go ahead," you grumbled, trying to lift the gown over your head, but noticing your wincing and hissing in pain as you pulled on your fresh stitches, he quickly helped you slip the gown off of your head and down on the top of the bedsheets. "T-thanks."
"Of course," he giggled, his eyes peering through his shroud of bangs as he looked at his stitch work, and you let out a painful hiss as his fingers pressed into your stitches, causing a light snicker to leave his breath at your response. "Very nasty wounds, my dear."
"Yeah, well… I'm surprised to be alive," you scoffed in response, earning you a curious glance from him, but you snarled through your teeth at he pressed something that stung right into your wound, but after a moment you exhaled a breath you realized you were holding, watching as he 'tsked' at something that caused you to frown slightly. "I… am staying alive… right?" you couldn't help but ask in a concern tone, but noticing his curious glance in your direction, he snickered and stood up to go back to his tray.
"Oh, I assume. If you're still awake," he giggled before returning, but you frowned at the needle and long spool of thread in his hands, and his giggling intensified at your displeased look. "Soooo~…"
"… So – Shit!" you yelped, your hands slapping into your mouth as you held back a scream while he stabbed you effortlessly with the needle. But you apparently impressed him as you calmed yourself quickly, letting out shaky breaths as you relaxed, giving him a slight nod to keep going.
Apparently, that first stab was just to freak you out, because the rest of his threading barely got a yell out of you, his fingers delicately stringing his stitch work together while he pried away cut, old stitches that were bloody and a bit more painful to take out of your skin. But, eventually, he stepped away, cleaning your side with a wet cloth as you shakily breathed, your eyelids tightly closed as you tried to maintain a level head, or at the very least, not pass out from the pain. "… This is why I hate devils," you grumbled underneath your breath, but you glanced over at the man as he set his equipment down before returning to your bedside to give you a curious look. "… Did you want to ask a question or something?"
"Yeesss~" he snickered, pausing for a moment before moving the bedsheet to stare at your chest, and your eyes glanced down at the, now, large gash down your front. You were surprised your side hurt more then your chest, but as you realized that, yes, you had been slashed in the chest, you couldn't help but frown in response, poking at your stitches to only grumble in response. "I'm more curious to why you're not mad~ that I'm staring at your chest."
"Perv," you grumbled, suddenly sitting up in the bed to give him an irritated, yet calculating look. "I have no doubt you've looked at whatever you wanted to already. What I want to know is… why are you helping me?"
"I'm simply curious," he snickered, poking at your stitched chest before standing up, leaving you sitting on the bed as he began to gather his things on his fairly large tray. "Normal humans tend to be scared around me, but here you are noticing my true nature. Perhaps you should explain yourself," he stated, and you paused.
Should you say something? Well… he did help you out so…
You reluctantly sighed, but it's not like you could lose much, these days. No anymore. "… I'm a half breed," you began, bluntly, his head slowly turning to your slightly exposed figure as you began to tug the bedsheet higher up your body, since you were starting to feel cold, but he could see your other hand reaching for your right eye with a frown on your face. "Half human, half grim reaper. My father wanted me produced, and my mother… was into the occult. Necromancy, witchcraft… that sort of thing. He actually got her consent, so… I guess it wasn't an entirely bad thing, I suppose," you mumbled the last part before giving him a curious look. "Should I say more?"
"Perhaps," he snickered, your eyes rolling at his response, but your fingers continued to rub at your right eye, feeling a familiar sting that you couldn't quite see, couldn't exactly feel, but it was there. An awful memory that you wish could fade away with time, but it just isn't that simple.
"… Demons have been trying to kill me since day one. I'm not afraid to get into a scrummage with them. The ones that talk say that my scent is alluring. Probably because I'm a weak and defenseless human, perhaps. It's… irritating," you scoffed, but then you glanced over at the man with your own curious look. "If we're going to exchange information, then can I ask, who are you?" you asked in a curious tone, his hidden gaze and your own gaze maintaining a calculating look, before he let a slight snicker leave his breath, breaking the tension that was building up in the air, as he flicked his long black sleeve against his chest and stood proudly.
"I am known as the Undertaker~. But no, I am not a rogue~ grim reaper. Simply retired," he snickered, causing you to give him a skeptical look, but then you slowly nodded your head in response. "And you, my dear?"
"… Clara," you told him, a bit too bluntly, "but I prefer the name Lara."
"Hmm… Clara~. Very lovely name, for a lovely lady," he smiled as he let your name roll off of his tongue, causing you to huff in response.
"Lady. I'm no lady. Don't call me that," you grumbled, but he simply giggled in response as he began to make his way to the door, but as you looked over you couldn't help but say something else. "Ah… the Undertaker," you began, noticing his grin seemed to widen as you used his name, or rather his 'nickname', but until he turned to acknowledge you and not run off like you thought he'd do. "I… know this is going to be a bit strange, but can I ask something else?"
"Hmmm~?" he responded, giving you a curious look while you sighed, grasping the sheets tightly in anticipation of a rejection.
"So… you're a reaper, right? I… I have these friends. Kids actually… I don't know if they're still alive, after I blacked out," you decided to say before looking back at him, trying to straighten your back as you continued. "If just… if you know a way of finding out if some reaper orphans happened to show up, all of the sudden, that would put my mind at relative ease," you told him, giving him a hopeful look.
Normally, you wouldn't ask anyone to look into something like this. You'd just do this yourself, but considering you're bedridden and he is a reaper himself, who says he hasn't gone rogue, well… why not?
But the unresponsive answer caused you to slowly frown more and more, until you sighed and looked away, defeated by the unresponsive answer. "I get it. N-never mind. I shouldn't have asked –"
"I can… try," he responded, pausing for a moment before suddenly stepping back into the room, giving you a curious glance as he continued with a softer smile upon his face. "Kids, huh? Why are you worried?"
"You did see my sorry state, right?" you scoffed, as if your answer was obvious, but you paused for a moment before glancing away and pouting. "If I survived and they didn't, what sort of being would I be? I…" you sighed, running a hand over your face, pushing back the need to cry before you looked back at him to give him a meek smile. "It's… it's not very important. Don't worry about it –"
"I'll look into the matter," he told you, simply, before flashing you a smile that caused your own, weak smile to appear on your tired looking face. "In the meantime, rest. You need to sleep, and I'll come by with some food."
"… Okay," you responded, your voice a bit weak, but as he left you, you couldn't help but let a frown appear on your face as you looked down at your new stitches.
Demons… are such a pain.
But now… you're confused.
Why would some retired reaper not be helping in fighting off the apocalypse? The end of the world as we know it? Unless…
Something… else happened?
You are still you so… maybe… something happened in that battle you didn't notice?
But the longer you thought about it, the more tired you became. Slowly, you slumped your head onto the pillow, sighing as you stared up at the cobwebbed ceiling in deep thought. As long as those kids came out okay, you suppose. The others… you'll be saddened if Rosie or the others suffered, died because you weren't there to stop their deaths, but the future is what is important. Even if Death never comes by again, the kids can figure something else out. Live their own way.
Considering everything, the dots aren't exactly connecting. You realized you needed more information before determining the best course of action. Accepting your internal agreement, you closed your eyes, your body quickly falling into a deep slumber before your mind could think about anything else, vaguely important.
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A/N: I decided to put the author's note at the end because I wanted to talk a bit more.
Yep, I decided to post another chapter after the first! Hopefully to give you guys a taste for what this story is all about.
So, you're thrown back in time, into the Victorian era, and given a new chance to change the fate of the world… or cause the apocalypse, perhaps.
As for how that happened… well, there was a demonic stop watch. I didn't give it too much thought as to HOW, but the story truly picks up here. Yeah, I didn't write too many fighting scenes… yet. There's a lot of banter, a lot of talking. Stuff like that, but I decided to spend more time developing the characters, developing various relationships, before jumping back into the 'plot'… if you could call this 'jumping back in time' a plot.
The supernatural stuff will come… later. For now, there's a lot of figuring out this new place and time period. Trying to reconnect to being, well, human.
Hopefully you guys will like this story. I may not post periodically, but if I see that there are people who enjoy this story, a lot of viewers, maybe I'll post more often then just 'every once in a while'.
Recently, I've been brought back to the Kuroshitsuji story since this last 'arc' seemed to have come to a close. With the two Ciels separating, and our-Ciel [the one not dead] deciding to fight for his title as 'earl'. But, that's not where this story is starting.
And maybe the events of Black Butler will change within this fanfic. I don't know! I haven't gotten that far, but it does start with Vincent. So there you go.
If you want this story to have more Vincent Phantomhive, do tell me. I may end up doing a major time skip so we can get to the 'Earl Ciel Phantomhive' and the infamous butler, Sebastian, but I haven't decided if I'll do that… yet. I don't know if I'll have the story end before the twins get kidnapped, or not.
I mean, I'm sure parts of my story will happen after that tragedy happens, but I don't know if it'll be closer to the end… or in the middle of the plot. I'm… still thinking that over.
So any thoughts on the matter would be greatly appreciated! There's still a lot of explain, in the confines of the story, and hopefully I make my words clear. I just hope I don't end up becoming repetitive. I tend to do that, a bunch. Ranting… like now, but whatever.
Anyways, I hope you'll ENJOY this story for what it is. I could have done something a bit more simple, less extravagant, but… meh. I wanted to write a Kuroshitsuji story, after not doing so for a long while, with reapers and creatures and whatever else. This has become a nice stress reliever, for myself, and I hope to keep the plot moving forward… but sometimes it stalls. So I apologize for that.
I do keep the chapters between 1-2 scenes long. Sometimes there's time jumps, and hopefully the chapter insinuates that there is a jump in time. I'll say that there is in the A/N. And, I may not add an author's note every chapter. It depends on how/when I post these chapters. If it's a lot at a time, or every once in a while.
Now, I'll stop talking now. But THANK YOU for reading my story! And I hope to post for chapters soon.
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[P.S. [after rereading the chapter]: I find it funny that some protagonists of these fanfic stories seem to be alright with waking up in a coffin or meeting the Undertaker. If I woke up in a coffin, with the lid on, I'd probably start freaking out! Especially since tight spaces and darkness freak me out.
Anyways, I just wanted to say that I did write this OC, Clara, in a way that related to me. There are things she does that I also do/enjoy, or would like to do/enjoy, so if Clara doesn't relate well with you, I apologize. I just didn't want to write her as a two dimensional character, and the best way to write characters is relating them with yourself.
Right?
I'll stop talking now, but thanks for reading.]