**Author's Note:
Hello! Another update so soon! Aaaaaand... It's my birthday in a couple of days so I've decided to post an extra-long chapter to celebrate! This is where the sort of plot twist happens!
Oh and also... There is some slightly graphic material in this scene, so just please read at your own risk. It's not anything terrible but I understand that there are always young readers amidst us! :)
Anyway! Thanks so much for reading and don't forget to comment and let me know what you think! **
Haven was suspicious, to say the least.
Deep in her heart, she knew that Undertaker hadn't only been worried about her health.
During the next few days after her fever broke, Undertaker seemed to be keeping a closer eye on her than was usual.
He constantly gave her cups of tea, constantly asked about how she was faring... And whenever Haven was alone, she still felt eyes watching her, studying her.
Maybe her over active imagination was just blowing everything out of proportion, but she still felt that her being ill had been... important somehow.
Undertaker's lingering gazes never failed to make her worry, and to make the hair stand up on the back of her neck.
But she just told herself over and over that her imagination was simply running away with itself and making the situation seem worse than it was.
Maybe Undertaker was a bit worried about her... It didn't mean anything important.
Haven decided to brush it away for now and to wait until she had more clues to put together, like the scattered pieces of an unknown puzzle that had an equally unknown number of parts.
...
"Remember, now, dearie," Undertaker told Haven a few days later. "Keep a hold of me hand so ya won't get lost. Didn't know there'd be so many... people here today, I didn't."
Undertaker reached over and grabbed her hand, his fingers unusually cold though it wasn't any surprise to Haven. The day was drawing to a close and a storm was definitely approaching, making the air around them chilly and a bit humid.
"Alright," Haven hesitantly agreed, accepting his leading hand. He'd never made her hold his hand when they'd travelled to the shops before... This was a first to Haven, but she looked around to where Undertaker had gestured to the heavy crowds and felt a twinge of nervousness for some reason.
"We'll head right to the shop and then right back home, how's that sound, lady?" Undertaker continued talking with a lazy grin as he looked around at all the people that had come out to shop in the town.
"It sounds fine to me," Haven replied, feeling her anxiety rise within her as she continued looking around at all the people. She didn't know why she was feeling so worried all of a sudden. "Why are there so many people here today?" she added, curiously looking around. "There are too many of them to just be shopping."
"How observant of ya, dearie," Undertaker cackled a bit, cocking his head to the side, studying her with his hidden gaze. "I believe there's a festival o' some kind next week... And they'll be settin' up for it now, they will."
"A festival?" Haven repeated in surprise. "With a murderer about? That doesn't seem very wise."
"I suppose, but humans have a weakness for distractions... Especially in the form o' entertainment," Undertaker replied, bringing his face closer to hers, with a smirk.
"I agree..." Haven said quietly, still looking around.
It occurred to her suddenly that Undertaker had addressed the group of people as 'humans', and something felt a bit odd about that... But he could possibly have done it on purpose to show her that he was speaking of the entire human race in general...
Although Haven tried to brush it off, it stuck with her, begging to be inquired of further.
Undertaker started walking towards the crowd, which was also the same direction as the store where he purchased his supplies.
"Come along, now," Undertaker urged, gently pulling on her hand to guide her.
She allowed him to pull her deeper within the hoards of people, and it was slightly warmer because of the close proximity of the crowd.
Suddenly, the skies above them rolled with clouds, and let down a strong downpour of rain onto the town.
People all dashed around, trying to find shelter. Haven watched as a large group of men carrying burlap sacks of equipment desperately ran out of the road, trying to find some way to save their merchandise.
"Hey, outta the way-!" a man's voice yelled, before a shoulder slammed into Haven's, knocking away her balance.
Her fingers left Undertaker's and she collapsed into the softening dirt of the ground.
The rain still poured, and the crowds became more hurried to cover themselves somehow.
Another man suddenly ran past her, not seeing her down on the dirt, and accidentally kicked her in the side.
"Ow! Hey-!" Haven started to cry, but the man didn't even so much as glance over at her before continuing his running down the road.
"Oi! Get out the way, 'fore ya get hurt, what are ya, thick in the head?!" another man yelled, running past her with a stern expression.
Haven grimaced a bit and pushed herself up, the gravel cutting into her palms as they supported her weight.
"Undertaker?" Haven called quietly, expecting him to be right next to her, but when she looked up he wasn't there. "U-Undertaker?"
She quickly gazed around, her heart starting to hammer painfully as she couldn't spot his black hat or robes anywhere within the panicking crowds of people.
Where had he gone...?
Haven stood up straight, her hands sore and bruised, and her ribs sending sharp bolts of pain throughout her entire abdomen.
She doubled over a bit and still frantically searched around for the strange man that she had grown so accustomed to being around.
"Undertaker?" she called again, spinning around in search.
"Hey, are you alright, miss?" a young voice suddenly asked Haven to her right. She turned to face him, and saw it was a man wearing a long dark robe. He had the hood pulled up to shield his eyes from view, and he was slightly slouched as if the rain was pushing down against his back.
"I... I'm fine, thank you," Haven replied, hesitantly.
The man reached out with pale fingers and gently removed her hand from where her own fingers pressed against her ribs.
"I saw them kick you," he informed her with a soft voice. "I have a carriage just over there. I'd like to take you to a doctor, if you don't mind."
"I appreciate it, but I really don't need a doctor," Haven said quickly. "I'm fine. I- I'm actually looking for a man... I lost him within the crowds- You haven't seen him, have you? He has long silver hair, and wears a tall black hat."
"Hm. I'm afraid I haven't," the man answered, putting a hand to his chin briefly. "But I'm quite worried about your ribs, and your hand is bleeding. Please allow me to take you to a doctor."
Haven looked down at her palms, which were scraped and raw from the fall.
"Well..." she trailed off.
"And you're getting absolutely soaked from the rain," the man continued, his voice gentle. "I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if I left you here in this shape."
"If you insist... But I'm perfectly fine," Haven replied, quietly.
The man gently took a hold of her upper arm and led her away from the crowds of people, towards the darker half of the streets.
The sun had finally set, casting the town in shadow, and the rain continued to fall.
Haven's hair was plastered against her face, but the man only continued leading her down the road.
"Where's your carriage?" Haven inquired, looking around at the deserted street.
"I was shopping, but the roads became too crowded to drive my carriage through, so I had them park it over here," the man explained with a cheery voice. "Sorry for making you walk so far."
"It's all right," Haven replied.
They walked farther into the darkness, the man still gently clutching her arm.
After a long time of walking in silence, Haven still hadn't seen a carriage parked anywhere. She desperately searched the shadows, hoping to see the vehicle resting amongst the alleyways, but they were deserted.
Something of a strange atmosphere settled amongst them.
Something just didn't feel right...
"Your carriage-" Haven started, but then the man suddenly yanked her into a dark alley, and pressed her up against the wall.
The back of her head slammed against the side of the building, making dark circles appear before her eyes.
"What carriage?" the man chuckled, his voice rougher than before.
His lips were suddenly against her neck, insistently, and Haven was shocked still.
She'd been...?
"You lied to me-" Haven gasped, too surprised to actually move. "Get away-!"
She finally tried to press her hands against his chest, but he caught her wrists. He didn't even flinch as he continued to roughly kiss her neck, his damp lips suctioning against her chilled skin.
"Stop!" Haven exclaimed, struggling furiously to get free. "Stop it!"
"Well you were practically begging for it," the man breathed, lifting up his covered face towards her to press his lips alongside her jaw. "What were you doing alone on the streets? Just waiting for a strange man to come along and ask to help you. You followed me away from everyone else without even asking my name... It doesn't matter now, anyway. You'll never see anyone to tell the tale."
He suddenly tried to rip open her clothing, but his hands were slick from the rain and he struggled.
"Get away from me!" Haven exclaimed, shaking her shoulders in an attempt to buy time. "Stop! Help me! Somebody, please! Help me!"
Haven frantically pushed away at the man, but he covered her mouth with one hand.
With a panicked expression, his mouth dropped open, and the man raised an arm and slapped her across the face. A sharp crack resounded as his flesh stung against her own.
"Quit yelling!" he whispered, slapping her again.
Haven was so shocked at the strike of pain across her face that she was momentarily silenced, and the man continued kissing her neck and fumbling with her corsets.
A moment passed, and Haven was brought to her senses again by his breath blowing into her face like a humid wind.
She had to get away from this man before- before something even worse happened-
"Help!" she cried, returning to her panicked struggling. She pushed away at him and yelled, her throat going hoarse with her screams.
"I said, quit yelling!" the man demanded, taking a knife and pressing it against her throat.
She felt the cold metal under her jaw, and her heart stammered in her chest like the uneven footfalls of horses' hooves.
Haven quickly made up her mind and slapped at the weapon, catching him off guard, sending the knife flying through the air.
It landed on the wet cobblestone with a clatter, and Haven realised something that sent her blood running cold.
"You're the man... who's been killing all the women..." she whispered in shock.
The man chuckled darkly, grabbing her throat with his powerful hands.
"How quick you are, young lady," the man said through grit teeth, his breath whistling as his jaw locked. "After I knock you unconscious, I'll have my fun with you... Then I'll brand and kill you, like everyone else."
"Why-" Haven gasped, as her airway constricted. She reached up with trembling fingers and clawed at his hands, desperate for air.
"You look familiar to me, somehow," the man continued, pressing against her throat tighter. "I think maybe I've seen you before, and considered this. You've got the most lovely eyes..."
Haven started to go blind from lack of air. Her eyes seemed to cloud over, but she couldn't give up.
She had to escape...
With a final thrash of energy, Haven kicked out and landed a blow to the man's groin.
He groaned and let go of her throat to double over.
Now was her chance!
Haven started to run, but then had a flash of solemnity and realised that she had to get a description of the man for Earl Phantomhive and his detective.
She whirled around in a split second, almost losing her footing because of the slick stone beneath her, and yanked the man's hood off, only getting a glimpse of damp black hair before he quickly covered his face with a pallid hand.
"You bitch-" he started before reaching toward her again.
Haven dashed away from him and ran down the slippery streets faster than she'd ever run before in her entire life.
As her shoes padded across the cobblestones, images flashed into her mind-
A man, before... A knife...
A weapon slashing towards her...
Had she witnessed him killing someone before...?
Nausea made her stomach churn, and for a moment she thought she would be sick, but she pushed away the queasiness.
She had to get away- what if he was following her-?!
Haven allowed her terror to propel her forward and she finally pushed back into crowds of people, desperately looking all around her.
She had to find Undertaker!
There were still so many people, and her instinct told her to go right to the first person she saw and ask them to take her to the police...
But...
She wanted to go to the Undertaker first.
Besides, what if that man was hiding in the crowds somewhere, watching her...?
She decided to ask someone to point her in the direction of the Undertaker. Maybe someone had at least heard of him.
Haven randomly approached people, all of them women because she was too frightened to speak with men.
Every single one she asked, though, seemed to not have heard of the Undertaker, much less knew where his building was located.
"Brilliant," Haven panicked, fear crashing through her veins like an angry river. "How am I supposed to find Undertaker when no one knows who he is?!"
Maybe she'd accidentally ran all the way into the next town...?
Making a snap decision, Haven resolved to ask someone to take her to the Phantomhive manor. Ciel Phantomhive and his butler Sebastian were the only people that she really knew besides the Undertaker. She couldn't think of any other option.
Haven quickly approached the friendliest people she could find, resolved now.
There were two of them, and were both exiting a store with heavy-looking bags of groceries such as sugar and flour. One of the men was a young-looking blond boy with clips pulling the hair back from his face. He happily bounded toward a very fancy carriage that was parked alongside the curb, while another man lugged all the bags. He also had blond hair, though a slightly rougher-looking face, but his clear eyes were genuine. The rougher-looking man eyed the happy younger boy with a narrowed gaze.
"What'd I bring ya along for, eh?!" he exclaimed with a grunt as he hauled the heavy sacks alone.
Haven hesitantly approached them but stayed a safe distance away from them, taking a deep breath to calm herself down.
"Please, can you help me?" Haven asked them, trying not to sound desperate but her voice was strained anyway. "I got lost and a man attacked me- could you please take me to the Phantomhive manor, if you've heard of it?"
The rougher-appearing man dropped the bags into the back of the carriage and rubbed his square jaw with a hand.
"The Phantomhive estate, eh? What you goin' there for?" he inquired in a heavy accent.
"I- I got lost and Ciel Phantomhive and his butler are the only people I know... Please, do you know where the estate is? It's an emergency," Haven explained, hugging herself because she was soaked to the bone. "Or even better, do you know of the Undertaker?"
"I've heard of 'im, but I couldn't say where he lives," the man answered. "But the Phantomhive estate, I can take ya righ' to. We actually work there, we do!"
He pointed to his chest proudly, and the younger looking boy piped in.
"We're the Phantomhive cook and gardener, we are! My name's Finny!"
He put a hand flat to his chest with pride.
"An' me name's Bardroy! But ya can call me Bard," the gruffer man added.
"It's nice to meet you both. My name's Haven," she quickly gave them a curtsy, still nervously glancing around her. "You- You can give me a ride to the estate?"
Haven breathed out in such relief that her legs almost gave out at the thought of returning to assuring safety.
"'Course we can! Hop in!" Bard exclaimed, opening the door grandly for her.
Haven had never heard such lovely words spoken in all her life. She tried to catch her hurried breaths enough to thank the two servants.
"Thank you! Thank you both so much! You're really saving my life!" Haven ducked her head in relief mixed with appreciation before finally hopping gingerly into the carriage.
The two men followed behind her, making sure to take the seats opposite of her, before the carriage finally pulled off into the road.
Haven knew that distance was safety now, and her anxiety lessened the farther away she got from the scene of the attack.
God must have been with her, for her to have scrambled to the nearest people with the request of going to the Phantomhive estate and for them to have turned out to be servants of the very household.
Maybe, she thought as she finally settled against the seats, her luck wasn't so horrible after all.