Undertaker was pacing back and forth, his eye glued to the book in his hands. It was nearly silent in this particular library section, occasional laughter and outburts sounding from afar. Undistubed, quiet, a suitable environment for the coffin maker. If he had cared, he would have rejoiced at this development. But his attention was elsewhere.
"Lovely..." he knew that, once he had Grell's book, he should find Will, and then head back to the hospital. Instead, he wad taking his time going tediously through the shinigami record, reading what he already knew. Training, reaping, killing, all things Grell had told him about in detail. When they conversed, which occurred often, it was always Grell going on and on about her day. The weather, her job, anything they could talk about, they did.
"Darling, come to bed, I can fix your jacket." On one particular day, Undertaker remembered the rain and thunder outside, the lightning flashing. A cold dreary day.
"But I want to do it." Grell had ripped her jacket, though she didn't tell Undertaker how. She decided to perch on the end of a coffin, stubbornly staying awake to sew the rip while pricking the tips of her fingers in the process.
"Love, you're pouting."
"I'm trying to concentrate." She snapped at him and poked herself again, letting out a litany of swears afterwards. A long pause of silence took place as she licked the small wound. Undertaker frowned.
"You're being snappy. Please darling love, come to bed, I can fix it in the morning." He snuggled into a coffin, peering over the edge.
"No." Her lip curled in distaste at the wound.
"Darling, please..."
"Nooo."
"If you really love me~"
"Oh, don't play that card with me." She stood and skipped over to him, jumping on top to straddle his waist. She kissed the tip of his nose.
"But that card works so well. " He kissed her lips, and she rolled her hips in response. They both moaned quietly.
"Be quiet for a bit."
"As you wish, my dearest love."
Regret and sadness, sorrow. Maybe even pity. There was no love for Undertaker anymore, only memories. I'm sorry, Grell. He breathed deeply, trying to get past the feeling of his chest constricting, his throat closing up and choking him. He coughed a bit before laughing, then coughed again. Pausing, he swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Death is losing its hilarity now,"He choked out, his eyes burning. He swiped at them, grateful that at least he hadn't started to cry. Still heaving a bit, he closed Grell's book in his hand and began to walk away.
A woman was in there. A female, in bright white clothes, brown hair in a tight bun. The thing hissed at her in tongues, but she couldn't sense it. She was standing over a body, checking the body's pulse, adjusting its pillows. Nodding to herself, she left the room.
The emptiness that the thing was slinked away from a dark corner, to the bed. The body lay on it peacefully. An invisible tendril reached out to touch the soft, silky red hair. It cringed away, the touch of a divine being pained it while the thing was in its weakened state. Forcing away the pain, its conciousness focused on the life force. Weak, but it was there.
And yet, the life force seemed to be buried away in the mind of the body, too far out of reach to get to.
The thing could figure out a way to it though.
Perhaps, since the being was a shinigami... it must be taken like how shinigami take souls.
Perhaps it must be cut out.
"Undertaker... Undertaker!" William paced around, trying to find out where Undertaker was. He was starting to get a bad feeling. Spinning around, he chose another aisle to walk down, shelves towering far above him.
"Undertaker! ... Hey, you three, have you seen Undertaker? " William glanced at some recruits, watching them impatiently. They stared back frightened, knowing William for his reputation of being a little more than strict. Will waited for them to answer, and they appeared to panic under his gaze.
"...Well?" He tapped his foor impatiently, before realizing his mistake. Many didn't really know Undertaker by any name, not even 'Undertaker'. They knew who the famous shinigami looked like though, everyone did. "He has silver hair, black, um, robe, he looks the guy they have a statue of in front of the library. "
At this description, they all nodded frantically, pointing to the right. Not bothering to thank them, William headed in that general area, looking around fervently. He was running low on time.
Maybe normal human weapons would fail to cut it, those dull surgical knives and wires.
Another nurse passed by outside the room, pushing a tray. The apparition watched her pass, taking note of a set of knives laying on the top. No, they might not work... but the small scythe strapped onto the woman's side might.
Undertaker heard his name, recognized the caller's voice filled with worry. William... huffing a bit, he managed a smile to make himself look like how he usually did, then went off to find him. Which happened a few seconds later.
"Underta- shit-" Will managed to exclaim before crashing into a shelf, knocking some books, along with himself to the ground. Not to mention, he had dropped his glasses in the process.
"Someone's a bit clumsy." Undertaker giggled, watching the raven haired man push himself to his knees, his hands darting around on the floor.
"Shut up... I mean-" William sighed with exasperation, upset that he snapped at a superior, even if that particular superior was retired. "I lost my glasses."
"That would explain a lot." Undertaker set the book he was holding aside to clean up the mess.
"It's not funny."
"It kind of is."
"It is not... I found them." Satisfied, William placed his glsses on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up. Undertaker began putting books away.
"Good for you." Just as Undertaker was about to put away the last book, William stopped him.
"Wait! We might need that." William took back the book he found earlier.
"Ah, so you did do something useful. "
"What's that mean?"
"Nothing." Undertaker picked up his book. "I found this. Grell's shinigami record. You broke your glasses, by the way. And smudged them."
William frowned, but before he could do anything about, Undertaker took them and cleaned them off with his sleeve.
"You'll need to get the lenses replaced." He put Will's glasses back on him, pushing them up slowly, then stood back and smiled. William was taken back a bit, and blinked.
"..."
"I believe you were looking for me for a reason, Mr. Spears? " Undertaker waited patiently for an answer. William remembered why he was there.
"Yes, I believe Mr. Sutcliff is in trouble. I'd explain, but I'll do it when we reach him, we've already wasted time." With that explanation, William began to head for the front exit, his pace picking up. Undertaker ran after in confusion.
"What?"
"I'll explain later!"
It unhooked the scythe, and the nurse didn't notice at all. Elated, the spirit crept back into the room, raising the scythe.
It needed that bright, delicious soul.
Bloody, bloody, blood red, it sang to itself as it brought the weapon down like an axe.
William knew, just knew something was off, wrong. He had begun sprinting as soon as he was out of the library, and was now at the hospital. He ran to the stairs.
"William, you're freaking me out." Undertaker followed, managing to keep up with him.
Will didn't answer. As soon as he was on Grell's floor, he ran down the hall, shoving orderlies out of the way. Undertaker stealthily dodged them, occasionally jumping over people who had falllen.
"William, slow down, you look like a mad man! They'll sedate you or-ump-" Undertaker ran straight into Will, just barely keeping himself upright. "Will?"
"Do you sense it?" William hesistated, his years of training kicking in, his senses on overload. It was like a whisper, a trick of the mind, but it was there. Along with the slight scent of sulfur.
"Huh?" Undertaker paused, still a bit dazed. William spoke quietly.
"... A demon."
The two looked at eachother before running down the hall, rounding a corner. The sight the saw made them stop dead.
Blood was on the wall of the hallway, and a nurse lay on the ground, a gash to the head. Blood pooled on the floor, almose making William and Undertaker slip as they rushed into Grell's room. On the inside, a doctor was holding up a spear, pointing it at something in the corner. William looked at it, dropping his book.
A slight apparition, like steam from a cup of tea, could just barely be seen. Whipping into action, Will pulled out his scythe, slicing at the demon. It danced out of his reach tauntingly, moving towards the doctor, who lunged at it with his spear. The thing jumped out of the way again, and William made another swipe.
"Foul creature," Will hissed through clenched teeth, his scythe hitting the thing dead on in its middle. It let off an ear piercing shriek as it charged, and William stood his ground, getting ready for the impact.
It didn't come. Just as the demon was about to pounce, Undertaker brought slashed it clean through the middle, and the thing wailed. High pitched, whatever it was made of turned into black smoke, slowly dissipating into nothing.
Breathing heavily, adrenaline flowing, Will looked at Undertaker, and the two of them shared a brief glance before the older of them looked at the bed. Undertaker's face paled.
"...No..." he croaked out, stumbling on week knees. William caught him before he fell, and he followed his gaze.
He wondered how on earth he missed the sight before.
Blood stained the white sheets, dripping onto the floor. A gash in the center chest, making it obvious it had been impaled multiple times. A scythe still sat in the wound, and William noticed the chest, just barely rising and falling. Grell... Will didn't know what to be worried about more, the fact that a demon had attempted to slaughter his colleague, or that Grell was breathing. Like a human. Shinigami didn't need to breathe.
Will turned around.
"Undertaker, look at me... don't look at him, look at me-"
"She... she's dead..."
"He's still alive."
"She's dead!" Undertaker held onto Will for dear life, his eyes fixed on the gruesome sight. William looked helplessly at the doctor, who had gone to check on Grell. He could hear the rushing of feet, and more orderlies rushed in with security.
"We are going to have to ask you to leave."
"Sir, you need to go."
"We'll do everything we can."
Requests to leave the scene, and next moment, William found himself outside the hallway, staring at the ground. Undertaker was still holding his jacket, but Will didn't protest. Instead, he looked at the floor where the nurse was earlier. Her blood still pooled on the floor. Swallowing, Will managed to detach himself from Undertaker and head for an exit.
Fresh air greeted him, and he looked at the sky. It was noon... had he been at the library all morning? Soft clouds floated in the air... gagging, William leaned over and threw up, acid burning his throat.
He's not dead.
He's not dead.
He's not dead.
He hoped, prayed Grell was alright. Those wounds though... god, the sight was horrifying. Spitting onto the ground, he collapsed against a wall.
"... shit... shit..." he adjusted his glasses, and closed his eyes. Tilting his head to the sky, he tried to remain calm. Numbness consumed him.
"...Will, are you alright? You dropped your book..." The voice was strained, and Will turned his head to see Undertaker standing a few feet away, a book in both hands. His eyes were red, dark circles under them. His grey sash he wore had blood near the bottom.
"There's blood on you." Will stared back, not moving.
"I know. I think I leaned in some blood on the floor, from that nurs-" Undertaker's voice cracked, and he looked away.
"Undertaker?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Undertaker looked back at him. Will looked away.
"For being too slow."
"It wasn't your fault. That demon wasn't anyone's fault, besides its own."
Will looked back at him, not sure of what else to say.
Ah that was a... clifffhanger? A depressing chapter? Both?
I'm also making this whole-relationship thing a slow build...
Let me know if I made any mistakes!
Well, with that, I bid you adieu for now.