William T. Spears, the serious management shinigami, looked down upon the streets of London. Overtime was not a pleasant experience for him. Or anyone else who got in his way. Adjusting his glasses in the dim moonlight, he turned his head one way, scanning the area for any signs of activity. He was supposed to be babysitting Grell Suttcliff, but he had given up on that for the evening. He would simply have to file more paperwork. This didn't particularly please him, but he understood that Grell simply WOULD NOT behave unless they tied a leash around his neck.
Giving another sigh, he felt more tense than usual. A smell assaulted the air around him and he turned. Demons were in the area. They were less frequent now that Faustus and Michaelis had marked their territories in the area, but they were still a nuisance. Turning toward the direction, he followed it, running nimbly on rooftops and chimneys, never once losing his footing. Spear and book in hand, the stern look never left his face.
The creature was a contortion of bone and reddened skin. Fangs extended, he was ready to eat the human below him in it's claws. The near dead were easy snacks for demons. William's mouth twitched without humor and shot his spear through the demon's spine. It twitched and snarled before trying to wrench itself from the offending impalement. Things like this monster, mottled red skin and thin as a rake, were rampant in other parts of the world.
His mouth twisting into a grimace as he twisted his spear, he heard the squelch of flesh and tight knit muscle rending. It let out a scream and again, tried to remove itself once more from the spear. A small smile crossed his lips before fading and he pulled the spear back, never once flinching from his place on the roof. Giving in to death throes, there was no cinematic record to play for this one. "Too primitive for memory."
It fell to the side as he cleaned the dark blood from his scythe. "Yet another handkerchief that I will have to burn… Honestly, isn't there anything that you.." He paused and shook his head. "Disgusting stench." He tossed the fabric aside. The reaper then proceeded to reap the human soul. The cinematic record played and he watched it without joy. If he were lucky, he would be done soon.
Cleaning his scythe again, he moves on, collecting more souls and cinematic records, stopping for a moment to have coffee. Sitting down, Will permitted himself to relax before the stress gave him an ulcer or two.
Sitting in the dark, he listened to the sounds of creatures wandering. "I am not fond of many," he said to himself. This was a thought that he considered out loud. "Demons are brutish and disgusting.. Vampires are no different. Humans are weak willed and…." He gave a pause. "Other shinigami.." he shook his head in disgust. Holding the cynicism of the world on his shoulders, William stood and discarded the cup into his small lunch bag. Running a hand through his hair, he smoothed it out and went back to work. It was like the typical job…Only with this job instead of life or health insurance, you got an extended lifetime and lots of overtime. Sometimes William wasn't sure how he made it home everyday from the office.
Between Grell and Ronald, nothing was normal. And with being invaded by angels, humans and demons within just a short amount of time, William felt as though he deserved some time off. And today was also his day before vacation. He anticipated getting out of his apartment and into something more relaxing. A small hotel perhaps, if he could. Or rent a cottage in the outskirts of London.
Reentering the world of shinigami, he passed the open square, the white tiles obscured by many suits and faces, all facing toward a tall dais where several higher-up shinigami stood with another one. Many faces were contorted with horror. Some with fascination. Others with amusement or shock. Pausing to take a look himself, he felt revulsion and pity for the shinigami being held on trial. But he knew the look in the eyes, the twisting and hissing, the desperate need to free himself from the bonds that held him down.
He wasn't possessed. The condition was close to being… But not. "This is barbaric," stated another, young shinigami. William easily recognized Alan Humphries and cleared his throat. The young man looked up. "O..Oh, William…" he rubbed the back of his head nervously before giving a small smile. "I..I wasn't expecting you back so soon."
"I finished early… And isn't barbaric, it's necessary." William's face remained stoic as he admitted the fact. Alan seemed disgusted and then nodded slightly. "You don't fully understand, do you?"
Alan shook his head. "I..I'm afraid not, sir."
"No need. It's necessary for young shinigami like yourself to see this. That is what a demon-addicted shinigami looks like."
The young man's face blanched. "B..but… I..I thought those we..were just stories to keep shinigami away from demons."
"I've lived longer than you, Alan… A case like this comes along every century… They become addicted and they don't tell anyone, letting it get worse until they've deteriorated in a lover of the noxious beasts… Don't hate them. Pity them."
Alan nodded slightly, looking at William again, gripping one of his arms, nervous. "Do they …Do they deserve the pity?"
"Yes. A shinigami tethered to a demon like that is a shinigami in chains. If they're to the point that even the upper management cannot possibly calm them…. Then they are lost."
"Then what will they do to him?"
"…" William frowned. He was unsure. It wasn't likely that the shinigami in question would escape. They would likely wrap him up in a straight jacket and lock him away… or kill him. A demon addicted shinigami was not safe. Especially for others. It also depended on the shinigami rank and how much it knew. It was seldom that a member of William's dispatch branch would succumb to the addiction, but he knew that if they ever did, it would be an immediate death sentence. Because he could, and would retrieve souls for the demon… if only to feed his addiction and receive his praise…. William shuddered at the idea. "…I don't know, Alan." Rustling the boy's hair, he meant to walk away. But the spectacle on the dais kept him glued in place.
"Who is your master, Richard?"
The shinigami on the dais, struggling against his chains, looked up at the upper management from his knees. He was the perfect example of demon-addiction gone horrifyingly badly. His eyes, instead of green, were the distinct color of the offending demon's eyes. His face was pale and shadowed heavily, as if he had stopped eating and sleeping. He was a mess of a person, a shadow of what might have been a proud shinigami. "Go to hell," he spat. The elder men stepped back, disgust in their expressions. William frowned and shook his head.
"He's too far gone," he stated simply. Alan frowned and looked at him.
"Have any survived…?" His voice was timid now.
"..Only one."
They were silent for a moment as the addicted shinigami tried to free himself. "..Who? Did you know him?"
"You know him."
There was more silence. "…."
"Grell Suttcliff, shinigami dispatch."
Shock crossed Alan's face and then he relaxed. "I..is he cured?"
"Aye. He's cured. We're lucky the demon only touched him twice… That particular demon has a talent for seducing shinigami."
Instantly, Alan knew who William was referencing, the demon Sebastian Michaelis. A shudder crossed through the crowd as the pair thought of him. The shinigami on the dais had tried to escape, nearly shattering the chains that held him down. ' "What's the cure?"
"If you were only touched a few times? Keep them away from the demon for weeks on end . It goes away. Grell liked to escape… Frequently."
Alan nodded. "That explains his… odd behavior."
"He hasn't quite been the same… but he's better."
He remained silent for a bit before turning and leaving. William couldn't stand to look any longer. The screams were starting to get to him. In his two hundred some years, William had heard many stories, seen a few of the demon addicted, and prayed to whomever was listening that nothing like that would ever befall him.
Slipping into his apartment, he passed by Ronald and Grell, who, in true British fashion, were having morning tea. It was nearly six a.m. and William had worked overtime all night before and all he simply wanted was to crawl into bed and get some rest. But he supposed, as usual, that a cup of tea and some company before bed would be a bit nice. Sitting at the table, he poured himself a cup and added sugar to it. Ronald smiled.
"Morning William!" he was a cheerful and charming shinigami.
"Oh, good morning, Willu~" Grell said. He was already dressed, holding a nail file in one hand while fixing his nails.
Fixing his glasses tiredly, he nodded his morning greeting and set his scythe aside. Taking a sip of tea, William tilted his head. "I take it you two have work today?"
"Of course, boss. Since you're on vaca, we'll have double…" Ronald frowned.
"It isn't overtime, Ronald, count your blessings."
"Ah~ But we still have to do the work you won't be there to do…" Grell stated.
Will gave a stern nod before taking another sip. "While I'm on vacation, Grell is… Grell is in charge." Ronald made a face before giving a nervous smile.
"Well, that makes sense, Will.. I mean Suttcliff senpai DOES have seniority…" The blonde rubbed the back of his head with a gloved hand.
"…I know. Don't run us into the ground.. Or I won't give you your vacation time this year, Grell."
The red haired man pouted. "Oh Will~ So cruel." William rolled his eyes at the statement and sipped tea again. He was already planning his vacation. Getting a good rest during the day, getting dressed, maybe for a spot of underground-raving? He knew that there weren't likely to be many humans there, so he was glad that he wouldn't have to be policing them.
"Call me whatever you want, Grell Suttcliff…" He stayed silent for a bit and then took another sip of tea. "I am simply doing my duty as a shinigami."
Ronald rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. "Up.. Well, I guess it's time to get off to work." Stretching himself out, he grabbed his coat and hat and then the handle to his scythe. "You coming, Suttcliff senpai?"
"Yes, yes," Grell responded, inspecting his nails before getting up and pulling on the red coat that was his souvenir of the Ripper Days. Picking up his chainsaw, newly returned to him, he winked at Will on his way out the door. "I'll be a boss to die for!"
"…Sure you will." The door to the apartment slammed shut as Grell left and suddenly, he relaxed. "That's better." Shedding his clothes, he climbed into the shower and washed the day away in simplicity. He let the water fall down his back as he thought of demon addicted. Symptoms were easy…but there were things, so many things…That the other shinigami didn't understand. It must have been strong.. The feeling that demons must have given them were close to heavenly, if it allowed them to abandon everything they had ever known…. Pausing for a moment, he turned off the water, stepped into the cold, and wrapped a towel around himself. Looking himself over in the mirror, he sighed.
Slightly toned muscle, a slightly-muscled stomach and chest, pale, stoic. His eyes were narrow and green, tinted in rings. His hair was wet and black, messy and untamed for now. He didn't know why he kept himself in shape anymore, it wasn't as if anyone was going to see him like this anytime soon. At least, he didn't believe so. Pulling a night shirt on, he ran the towel through and over his hair, drying it out. Brushing and curling up into bed, he shuddered. "Another cold night alone, William?" he mused. The idea didn't bother him. Not much, at least.
He didn't wake until past four in the afternoon, stretching, and brushing out his hair. He didn't intend on being neat today. After all, first day of vacation meant the first day of a rave. Those weren't supposed to exist yet, but he didn't give a damn. Shinigami hosted a number of modern things in their realm that weren't meant to exist. Raves included. Dressing, he had to pull on the pants and his gloves, flashy and neon, he looked at the mark that rested on the outside of his thigh. The blasphemous, black-light glow of a demonic covenant. It didn't show until he was under the strobe lights of the rave, in the pitch dark where only other colors streaked and highlighted themselves. The gloves, made to reflect glowing red and black, also fit him well. Looking different from his every day, strapping on the leather, he even felt different. He felt alive.
William was familiar with the scene, the demons and vampires and others smuggled into the shinigami realm for a brief time, mixing scent on a dance floor. Even so, there were rules. Green glow-necklaces for shinigami. Red for demons. Blue for vampires, yellow for angels.. And they were made to put them on. Sometimes someone would sneak into the back and be without a necklace. They weren't particularly dangerous, and William had never come across them before.
The bare-chested William was always very sure never to dance with a demon. This was because it was likely that they would try and molest him or touch him. And one touch could send a shinigami spiraling down into desperate addiction. That was the last thing he needed at the moment. Grabbing a green band from the line, he made his way inside, pleased by the large crowd. Dancing and moving, the beat was perfect. He jumped right in, losing himself, enamored in the music and being close to another living being for once.
He was almost a completely different person now, with the black surgical mask pulled over his face, it made him.. new…almost. Lifting his arms above his head, he felt free, light headed, dizzy enough to let himself be approached by a dark haired male. He hadn't been out in so long, it just felt good, and he would let himself be swallowed by it.
William felt long, gloved arms around his waist, and felt a warm cheek, covered by a mask against his face. "You smell of heaven, shinigami," it whispered huskily. The shinigami froze.
"And just who are you….?"
"No one special. But seeing you this way is certainly a temptation."
"Vile demon~" He pulled away, narrowing his eyes, looking up into the amused face.
"Oh, you say that so much, it's become a term of endearment."
William's lip curled with disgust. "Endearment, my ass."
"Oh, your stench is divine, Shinigami."
"Stop trying to seduce me!" pulling away harshly, William moved for the spear that would normally have been by his side. Instead the demon smirked.
"Come on now, William, it's a party, enjoy yourself. Can't we put our differences aside?" Sebastian pulled him close, eye to eye, meeting glare with amusement.
"I'll enjoy myself when you're off and away from me."
"Oh, that isn't any way to be, William." He lowered his hands to William's waist, grinning.
"At any rate, why aren't you with your master?" William meant to pull away, but was only dragged closer.
"My master is on a visit with Lady Elizabeth. He's given me the night off so that nothing… ODD happens in her presence." He pulls him closer, holding him captive, letting his hands roam to William's hips.
The shinigami ignored his roaming hands and rested his own palms on the demon's chest, pushing away, scowling. "You're ruining my evening, demon."
Sebastian only smirked and pulled him closer, caressing the back of the shinigami neck with his fingertips, the other firmly resting on his rump. "Hmm, how nice. Firm and round." He squeezed and made William jump. "You're so supple for a shinigami, Saving this for someone?" he sneered. William once again reached for the non-existent spear and his mouth ticked with irritation when it wasn't there. "Just relax, William," Sebastian hissed into the other man's ear. A repressed shudder slid down William's back, but he refused to relax.
"And you'll do what?"
"Perhaps a little of everything?"
William's face turned red with irritation as the lights danced across his face. "I won't allow you to touch me, demon." Sebastian stripped a glove from his contracted hand and moved to caress William's unguarded chest. The shinigami escaped his grip, falling to his knees. The amused demon only sneered.
"Oh."
William stood, narrowing his eyes. "I'm demoting the reaper that brought you here, Sebastian Michaelis."
"Tsk tsk, William, this is not a place for arguments."
The shinigami simply turned away, leaving the rave. Sebastian snickered and turned to sit at the bar. He wasn't one for using THAT particular weakness on shinigami.. But for one like William, it might be something worth playing with. After all, he hadn't had shinigami for some time.
The reaper went through the door of his home, showering, scrubbing himself red, shaken. "Bloody demon…filth…" He held himself, shaking. He was sickened. The demon had touched him, held him so close. He was thankful that no bare skin had made contact with him…. But that warmth, that closeness. William couldn't remember the last time someone had held him that way. But he would be damned if he would let a demon be the one to do it.