Another chapter! I really enjoyed writing this one, probably because I'm sick right now and without my stories I would pretty much spend all my time lying in bed and trying not to die. It's a work in progress. But I digress. I hope you enjoy this chapter too! :)

Also, please remember to feed the plot demon! He's a growing demon and he needs his strength!

The fire was beginning to spread around the garden. The copse of trees Lydia had rounded were now in flames, as was a row of hedges to their left. The smoke was growing thicker, but she and her brother seemed to be the only ones bothered by it. Towering above them on the splintered table, Undertaker wore a grin of delighted anticipation.

Lydia fumbled with her words, searching for her reasonable side. She remembered he was not the most stable individual to begin with. "Mister Undertaker, it's- surprising to see you here." Eyeing him warily, she moved sideways to clasp her brother's shoulder. "I'm not sure what's going on right now, but I'd say we should leave this garden before we try to sort it out, all right? Come down from there, you're going to suffocate on the smoke."

The green-eyed man stared at her for a moment and then began to laugh wildly, doubling over to contain his amusement. Lydia gaped at him and leaned toward her brother. "Ciel, we've got to drag him down from there and get out! He's obviously lost his mind, he's going to get himself killed-"

"No, he's not," Ciel rasped, keeping his revolver aimed at the tall man's chest. "Stay away from him, Lydia. He's not human."

Lydia drew a sharp breath of smoky air and coughed convulsively. "He's not….but- what?"

"I'm not sure what he is, exactly," the young heir explained stonily, "but he's something like Sebastian. He's been fooling us all this time. He's the one behind this entire affair."

"Huh….?" Lydia breathed, staring up at the menacing figure. "Then it was you who did this- you who made those things, those awful ghouls-?!"

"Really, milady," Undertaker twirled his tie around his long fingers, grinning even wider. "I had hoped you and your brother would have a bit more appreciation for my work. I even tried to show you my bizarre dolls in advance of tonight's grand finale!"

"You did what?"

Undertaker snickered and waltzed a step closer. Now that she could see his eyes, Lydia knew Ciel must be right. Those were not human eyes. "I brought Derrick Arden to you, my dear, when you were staying in that little clock tower. Remember? And then I guided you and your brother straight to them, in the very room I made them in. But all you did was scream and run away. Silly humans, always mastered by their fears. Did it ever occur to you that you were witnessing something never before accomplished in the history of mankind? The encore of death itself!"

Lydia stared at him in horror, her mind spinning around and around a darkened center. Then she seized her little brother by the arm and pushed him ahead of her. "Run."

The siblings sprinted past the copse of burning trees when the towering figure materialized in front of them again, thick smoke weaving tendrils through his hair. "Now, now, my dears, you mustn't leave so quickly when there's still much more to do! You've no idea how long I've waited for this lovely game to commence. I've been so veeeeery patient. Milord and I have had ourselves a fine chat already tonight, but since somebody decided to show up late…." Undertaker spread his arms, blocking the way around him. "I still have business with you, Lydia Phantomhive."

Lydia lunged at him and swung her bandaged arm, meaning to knock him aside and flee with Ciel. A vicious smile lit up his face, and the next second something caught hold of her waist and catapulted her backward into open air. She crashed into a hedge and scraped painfully to the ground, stunned. He moved so fast she had completely lost sight of him. Coughing, Lydia rolled her head to see her brother taking aim at the dark figure with his revolver. Three loud reports rang out, but she could not tell whether they hit Undertaker or passed through him- he showed no reaction to being shot, and Lydia could see no blood. The next second his form blurred again and he was looming over her, pulling off his evening gloves and reaching for her face.

A violent roar ripped through the air as the hedge behind her exploded with incredible force. Undertaker vanished just as another figure landed in his place, red eyes glowing with pure flame. Sebastian lifted Lydia and rushed her over to Ciel, bracing himself between the siblings and their attacker. She noticed he had something round gripped in his left hand. "Are you all right, master?"

"I'm fine-" Lydia gasped as she tried to take some air back into her lungs. The air burned like thick pipe smoke. Beside her, Ciel was heaving and struggling to breathe. "We've got to get out of here now! The garden is going to burn down!"

"Sebastian," Ciel coughed roughly, "have you disposed of all the targets?"

"Yes, my lord." The demon nodded, hefting the thing in his hand and hurling it at Undertaker, who had reappeared inside the burning grass. Fire did not seem to affect him either. He caught the object like a softball and held it up to his face, examining it with blatant amusement. It was the fractured head of Derrick Arden, missing its jaw and oozing blood from every orifice. Lydia gripped her throat and gagged.

"Ah, poor dears. So much potential, but in the end they fell short of my hopes for full-fledged reanimation. Hardly knew which way was up," Undertaker remarked casually, spinning the head on his fingertip. "Still, this whole endeavor is a process. I never expected the early experiments to be perfect, after all. So many improvements to make….but I can hardly wait until you see my true vision!"

"Sebastian, we have to go!" Lydia shouted, hanging onto Ciel to keep him upright. The young heir's eyelids were fluttering, and he seemed to be losing grasp of where they were.

The demon nodded, grimacing at Undertaker's distasteful display. "Hurry, master. This way." He lifted Ciel in his arms and darted past the flames, clutching Lydia's hand in his. She could barely see where they were going, but she followed Sebastian's lead past the burning hedges and out the gate which she had come in. The smoke was clearing up a little, but Ciel, sprawled loosely in Sebastian's arms, was no longer responding to her voice. They had to get his asthma tonic and-

"Gah!" Lydia shrieked incoherently as a spectral figure appeared from nowhere and flew toward them, grazing her as Sebastian ripped into it with his claws. She caught a flash of green eyes before it vanished again into nothingness. They were nearing the end of the hedges. They were almost-

"Leaving so sooooooon, my dear? I assume you won't be wanting this, then?"

Lydia glanced behind her and slammed her body to a halt when she saw Undertaker looming in the smoke, holding a writhing figure above the ground in one outstretched hand. He stepped closer, and the silhouette materialized into long robes, dark hair, and panicked eyes. "Violet!"

The slender prefect choked and sputtered incomprehensibly as Undertaker's black fingernails clenched around his throat. Curling her hands into fists, Lydia shouted, "Sebastian, go and-"

"Ah ah ah, do you really think even he can get to me before I snap this poor thing's neck?" Undertaker squeezed harder and Violet let out a tiny scream, clawing uselessly at the arm that held him.

"Stop it! Why are you doing this?! What do you want?!" Lydia screamed, releasing Sebastian and staggering toward the deadly scene. "Let him go!"

"Oh, I will," the gray-haired man assured, swaying Violet back and forth like a dog playing with a new toy. "Just as soon as you come to me and take my hand."

Sebastian snarled and seized Lydia in a near-stranglehold. "Master, do not let him prey on your weakness! The boy deserves to die. He got himself into this. He and his fellows knew what they were doing when they killed their classmates and opened to gates to this maniac. Now he must pay the cost. It is not your care."

"Oh, come ooooon," Undertaker wheedled, grinning grotesquely as Violet's face contorted in a desperate attempt to breathe. "It's not like I haven't been watching all your little drama, dear. You've been trying to protect him this whole time. Are you just gonna let him die when you're so close, huh?"

"Master, you are not doing this! We are leaving!" Sebastian seized her around the waist and began to drag her away, her own body unable to respond to his strength. "Cover your eyes if you need to."

"Better hurry up and choose, yes? Humans are such fragile creatures. They don't last long without oxygen, you knooooow." Undertaker drew Violet closer to him and cupped his chin, watching as the prefect's body spasmed and his eyes darkened. "Don't underestimate me, girl. I will kill him."

"Stop!" Lydia screamed, digging her heels into the ground. "Sebastian, let go!"

"No!" the demon thundered, his face contorting into something predatory and vicious. "You are mine."

Lydia wrenched his arm away with her bandaged hand, shoving him into the hedges. "Sebastian Michalis, you will not interfere. That is an order! Take Ciel and Violet and get them to safety. After you've done that, you may begin to look for me."

Sebastian's eyes melted into complete blackness and he lunged for her, held back by a power that stopped him inches from her body. The demon howled and writhed as if he were the one being deprived of oxygen, cursing in unknown tongues as Lydia began to run toward the looming figure of Undertaker. Sebastian could not touch her, but he kept pace with her, clawing at the barrier she had set between them. "You are an idiot! An imbecile! You are a pious, senseless, hopeless little fool!"

Undertaker was waiting with an outstretched hand, watching the scene before him as though it were a vastly entertaining play. Lydia glanced back at Ciel, then at Violet as she reached out to take the black-nailed hand. The prefect's face was stained with tears, and his lips were coated in blood. She thought she glimpsed him mouth the words, "I'm sorry."

As soon as she touched his hand, Undertaker released his hold on Violet and the boy collapsed onto the lawn. Sebastian moved as though to seize them, but his apocalyptic eyes were the last thing Lydia saw before she was snapped out of the world and into nowhere.

/

The hand she was holding was cold, frigid as ice. It was painful to touch, but she gripped it tightly because it was the only thing she could feel in the utter darkness around her. No breath of wind, no ground beneath her feet. Just five cold fingers and an icy palm, strong and heavy as stone.

The world slammed into her with the force of a tidal wave, and Lydia's head rolled with the suddenness of colors, of sound and sensation. They were somewhere….somewhere brown. And green. And black. And quiet. She breathed hard, feeling clean, cold air filtering into her lungs. "Where….are we….?"

"Who knows?" The languid voice beside her materialized into the looming figure of Undertaker. He was no longer wearing a suit. Instead, long black robes flowed about him, and his legs and waist were wrapped in something hard that looked like leather. A long chain with many silver lockets sprawled around his neck and shoulders. He glanced down at her and smirked casually. "We could be on a moor in Suffolk or a valley in Asia, not that it matters. The world is the same wherever you go."

"What have you done?" Lydia growled, snatching her hand away and retreating several feet. "Those ghouls- and the students- and all this time, you were the one pulling the strings-?"

"Not ghouls, dear. Bizarre dolls." Undertaker explained patiently. "They will have their purpose once I perfect them, but for now, they're merely my experiments."

Lydia bit her lip, glancing all around her and feeling the totality of her isolation. She could see no lights from houses or boats, only starlight above her head. She would have to handle this on her own until Sebastian could track her down. But how would he know where to look when she could be anywhere in the world? Pushing this thought aside, she glared aggressively at Undertaker. "Who ordered you to do this, and when? Was it back when Derrick Arden was first killed?"

"Hmmmm?" Undertaker tilted his head curiously. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Which one of the prefects summoned you? And what are the terms of your contract?"

"Contract?" Undertaker snickered, his unnaturally green eyes shining in the moonlight. "Just what exactly do you think I am?"

"You're a demon, aren't you? You're like Sebastian." Lydia sputtered. Her heart skipped a beat when he suddenly burst out in a howl of laughter, throwing his head back like a wolf on the hunt. His hilarity lasted for several minutes, during which time Lydia wondered whether she ought to run. He was faster than her, though. And a part of her really did want to hear his response.

"A demon! He-he-he! A demon! Oh, that's too good! I knew this was going to be worth it!" Undertaker cackled madly a moment longer, then fixed her with a wide, Cheshire smile. "Oh my dear, there are many more things between heaven and hell than just demons and men."

"Like what?" she challenged, crossing her arms to hide her shivering. Wherever they were, it was cold.

"You reeeeeally want to know? Secrets, girl, you can't unlearn them once you let them in."

"I know that," Lydia determined, bracing herself for whatever happened next. "Show me."

Undertaker grinned from ear to ear and threw his hand up high above his head. For one crazy moment, Lydia thought he was going to call down lightning. Something burst out of the air as if it had fallen from the sky at meteoric speed. As it whirled into physical being, it became elongated, gained shape and color, then-

Lydia was staring into the empty eye sockets of a skull mounted on the head of a massive scythe. The blade glinted silver and curved unnaturally along the skeleton's spine. A wreath of thorns wrapped around the skull's head, and more thorns coiled around the handle. At each end of the handle a thick chain was attached to the bone, and the iron links connected to them ended in two heavy shackles locked around each of Undertaker's pale wrists. The scythe exuded a foreboding presence all its own, almost as if another person was looming over her. Lydia stared in astonishment, dwarfed by the magnitude of the scythe and all it meant.

"Weeeeell? What do you think, girl?" Undertaker heaved the scythe upright and leaned the blade against his shoulder. He was no longer smiling, and for some reason this scared her even more. "Look at me."

Lydia stared, and after a long moment of silence, choked, "You- you're the grim reaper?"

"Death himself," Undertaker agreed, lowering himself in an elegant bow. "At your service."

"How is that possible?" Lydia blurted out, taking several steps out of the range of his scythe.

"Sebastian never told you about grim reapers, hmmmm? Well, I suppose he didn't have a reason to until just now. Natural enemies of demons, so we're always feuding with them over human souls. Although in the end, it's all pointless." Undertaker paced along the darkness, staring thoughtfully at the faraway horizon. "We're the universe's cosmic joke."

Lydia swallowed hard, struggling to make sense of this madness. "Wait, did you say….reapers? As in….more than just one?"

"Oh, yes. There are plenty of grim reapers. Too many, if you want my opinion. How could there be only one when the world is so brim-full of death?"

From somewhere far away, the wind picked up and funneled around them, bending the darkened grasses. Lydia shivered and squared her shoulders. "But if that's true, then where- where do grim reapers come from? How are they made? That scythe-"

"Ah, ah, ah, dear. Not so fast," the silver-haired reaper grinned, lifting his scythe and tossing the length of chain that bound him to it over his shoulder. "If you want more information, you'll have to pay my price. In the meantime, there's something I want to know about you."

Before Lydia could even draw breath to ask, Undertaker heaved his scythe over his head and swung it at her. Her heart stopped in her chest. The skeleton attached to the blade seemed to become animated with the motion of the weapon, lunging for her all bone-white and silver, the thorns diving toward her eyes, and in the reflection of the metal she glimpsed a vision of her life, playing out frame by frame upon a sepia canvas-

Instinct took over and her body moved naturally, throwing out her bandaged arm to block the threat. An immense sound burst forth as they collided: not like metal hitting metal, nor like metal tearing flesh, but like two other elements entirely. Everything stopped moving, and Lydia found herself still upright with her feet braced against the ground. The scythe's enormous blade was settled in the crook of her arm, and her bandaged fingers gripped the thorns around the skull's crown. Afraid to move, she breathed deeply and stared into the wide green eyes of the scythe's wielder. For a moment, his scarred face was overtaken with a violent kind of awe. Then the manic grin reappeared and he began to laugh, deeper and wilder than before. It lasted much longer this time, to the point where Lydia wondered whether he would even notice if she attempted to flee. He jerked the scythe back abruptly, examining the blade where it had impacted her body. "Incredible. So that's what's become of you."

Lydia clasped her arms around herself in shock. "Did you just try to kill me?!"

"'Course not," Undertaker announced, a smugly satisfied expression on his face. "These scythes aren't killing instruments, dear. Not like your normal blades and weapons. They're for harvesting the records of human lives and releasing the souls. Death comes to your kind in whatever form it takes- age, injury, sickness, murder, what have you- and the death scythe is merely a tool for severing your connection to the mortal plane."

"All right, look here," Lydia stamped her foot, trembling in the pervasive cold. "What is your aim? Why did you bring me to Weston? You're the specter that's been following me around all this time, right?"

Undertaker slung the scythe over his own shoulders, handling it as though its size and weight were meaningless. "Naturally. T'was veeeery difficult to force myself to stay in that form, never speaking, just watching you and your dear brother inching along at your own pace. I wanted you to find me. I set up everything, piece by piece."

"You frightened me!" Lydia accused, vividly recalling all the times she had fled in terror from the specter, or followed it into some perilous situation. "You nearly got me killed!"

"Now, now, don't be like that. You have to admit I've been useful to you, yeeees? Without me, you would have gotten killed. Such a shame that would be." Undertaker tapped a long-nailed finger against his scythe. "That demon can't protect you when he's tied by contract to your brother. And I need both of you alive and kicking so you can help me bring about what's to come."

"We're not going to help you! And I am leaving!" Lydia snapped, beginning to storm away through the empty grasses. She wondered how much distance she needed before she could seize her bandages without him stopping her. Suddenly a cold, bony hand seized the scruff of her jacket and hauled her off her feet. She choked and flailed blindly. "You can't make us do it! We're not going to play your sick game, so let me go!"

"Oh noooo?" Undertaker's smile suddenly became feral, his fingers tightening cruelly. "You're already playing my game, dear. You may be rarely gifted, but you're still just a short-sighted human who takes life too seriously. You think it was hard to get you here? I knew you would come to the gardens to help your brother. And I knew you would come with me to protect poor little Violet. You're always trying to save everyone, rewrite their lives to make sure they get a happy ending. Tell me, what's a bland thing like that worth anyway?"

Without warning, he suddenly threw her into the ground so hard that her body reverberated into the air, tumbling over the grass like a rock skipped on water. Agony filled her lungs, drowning her, and the stars became so bright they scorched her eyes. She could not tell if she was screaming. The next second, a heel thudded heavily into her body and Undertaker's face swam into view. He was looming above her with his foot planted on her heaving chest, eyes glittering like emeralds. "You're too kind, girl, and that makes you weak. It makes you predictable. If anything's going to get you killed one day, it's that."

His fingers latched around the front of her shirt and he lifted her effortlessly, bringing her much too close to him. His body was icy and his robes smelled of earth. She seized his neck and tried to force him away, but he did not seem to mind as her hands constricted around his throat. Beneath her fingers, another line of scarring ran amidst his cold, cold flesh. She saw the scars winding underneath his robes, snaking up his arm, curling around his little finger as he brushed a hand against her face. The sudden transition from violence to gentleness unnerved her, and she struggled fiercely to escape his grasp. His breath was even colder as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "But not yet, my dear. Not until you've done what you were made for. You and me, we're going to accomplish incredible things together, just you wait. We'll see life and death turned on their heads. We'll make a better ending for this farce of an existence. We will move the hand of god."

Lydia's grasping fingers seized the corporeal form of the chain attached to Undertaker's wrist. She hauled back on it and dragged his hand away from her face. The reaper grunted in discomfort, but did not fight her. Instead, he tightened his grip around her waist with his free arm and lowered them both to the ground, bracing her firmly against his shoulder.

"Let go!" Lydia's voice came out as a bare whisper. She felt like a tiny child trapped within the arms of a giant. Sebastian made her feel this way too, but she had always known she could force the demon to release her with a mere command. Undertaker hummed, cradling Lydia like a doll. The cold was physically painful to her, seeping into the marrow of her bones and hardening her limbs. She struck at him with her fist, each point of contact only freezing her skin further. "Let go!"

His pale lips curved into a quiet grin. "Not yet, my dear. Not yet. You're sooooo warm. It's nice."

Time eroded and Lydia felt herself falling into the gap it left behind. Somewhere within the cold she thought she glimpsed a burst of redness, fiery heat. The world turned over and over as she felt her body tumble amidst the sounds of feral aggression- snarling voices, rushing air, shredding flesh…. Hysterical laughter rolled over her, and then she was lifted away by another pair of arms- not warm, but not frigid. A familiar, black-nailed hand nuzzled her cheek, and the fiery eyes of Sebastian appeared overhead. She heard his voice calling her name, not master, but Lydia. She felt like they were moving again, rushing at incredible speed- and then the movement stopped and her awareness halted with it.

When Lydia stirred awake, she became aware of heat surging through her body, much more than she was used to. The sudden shift from ice to fire caused her head to reel dizzily. After several moments, she realized she was still being held in the arms of her rescuer. Sebastian's face drifted into view above her, his expression hazy in the smoky air. Carefully, Lydia tilted her head to glance below her. She saw a pile of smoldering debris, the remnants of Weston's sculpted hedges. Breathing deeply, she coughed and clutched her chest. "Sebastian, what is the idea of holding me over the fire like a roasting chicken?"

The demon laid a hand against her forehead. "Apologies, master, but it had to be done. Your body temperature was so low when I retrieved you, I felt I had to take drastic action."

"How did you find me?" Lydia muttered, glancing down her body to see her arms covered in bruises and her coat shredded. "I didn't even know where I was."

"I am the butler of the Phantomhive family," Sebastian explained, setting her upon the ground while keeping his hands on her shoulders in case she fell. "If I could not even track down my master after she very stupidly let herself be captured by a dangerous assailant, whatever would I do?"

The demon's annoyed snark faltered as Lydia compulsively threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. She was still trembling, although it was no longer from the cold. Everything that had happened tonight was too much to fit inside her traumatized mind. The assassins were no longer out for her blood, but now they wanted her to fight with them against Baron Kelvin. Joker had offered her vengeance and she had refused him. Derrick Arden and the other ghouls were destroyed- they would never be returned to their families. The prefects had murdered them. And grim reapers were real. It was all too much. Lydia felt Sebastian's arms curve around her shoulders as the demon held her, stroking her head like he had often done when she was a child. "Do not be distressed, master. I will always find you whenever you become lost."

"That's quite enough of that." Lydia turned to see Ciel standing to their left, tapping his ringed finger irritably on the head of his cane. He looked mussed and sooty, but nevertheless recovered. "Ciel!" she yelped, rushing over to him and flinging her arms around him next. The young heir sputtered as she lifted him bodily off his feet. "I'm so glad you're all right!"

"Lydia?! You're back!" shouted another voice, and the next second both Phantomhive siblings were hoisted into the air as Edward spun them around, all caution put aside. "Thank heaven you're not hurt!"

"Put us down, blast it, or we will be!" Ciel barked, his short legs flailing about.

Grinning hugely, Edward set them down and laid both hands on Lydia's shoulders. "You can't imagine how worried I was when you didn't emerge from the gardens. I thought you must have succumbed to the smoke."

Lydia took a steadying breath, glancing around the lawn full of familiar faces. Cheslock and Clayton were sitting back to back on the grass, appearing completely exhausted. Harcourt was lying on a bench several yards away, being tended by one of the housemothers while Agni hovered anxiously nearby. A fair amount of regular students were milling about the scene of the smoldering gardens, although Lydia could hear the harping voices of their housemasters calling them away. The only faces she did not see were those of the four prefects. She coughed on the lingering smoke, and Edward handed her a handkerchief from his coat pocket. "Edward- oh Edward, I've been-"

"Phantomhive!" an authoritative voice called sharply across the lawn, interrupting their moment. Lydia and Ciel both turned in its direction as two tall, white-clad figures strode toward them. They were dressed resplendently in hand-tailored suits with gleaming brass buttons. An elegant rapier rested in the sheath around each waist, and two golden chords- the symbol of royalty's favor- hung draped around their necks. Lydia's blue eyes widened, and she felt Edward grasp her shoulder as she stared into the matured faces of two people she had not seen in a very long time. The man in front tossed his head and smirked, inclining his head in a graceful bow. "Charles Grey and Charles Phipps, butlers to Her Majesty the Queen, at your service."