Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Black Butler world which is owned by Yana Toboso. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and the events which happen in this story are not canon. I am not profiting financially from this story. I only own the idea of the plot and my own original characters. Thank you Yana Toboso for thinking up such a world as wonderful as Black Butler.
Chapter #2
"We'll go to London today. The Queen has a new case for us," Ciel Phantomhive, thirteen-year-old Earl, told his demon-butler, Sebastian Michaelis.
"Yes, my Lord. The case being?" Sebastian queried, taking away the cutlery of Earl Phantomhive's breakfast.
"A string of mysterious murders in London. The victims seem to have no similarities, or connections. Scotland Yard is at a dead end, the Queen has called upon us to investigate and stop the murders," Ciel explained.
Finnian, Baldroy, and Mey-Rin "Oooed" in the background.
Soon after, Ciel and Sebastian left for downtown London.
…
I sighed. Honestly, making me of all people run errands for her? Surely, a demon advisor has more purposeful uses than a mere errand runner? Well, Miss Geneva is still a child, I suppose it could be much worse.
I wandered around the streets of downtown London, shopping for various knickknacks of sorts. I think I was also supposed to look for some potential new dresses for Miss Geneva. To be honest, I've forgotten what I was supposed to buy, I threw away the shopping list by mistake - not really.
Actually, I was annoyed and felt like messing with Miss Geneva so I purposely threw the shopping list away and opted to go for a leisurely stroll instead. Surely Miss Geneva wouldn't mind too much, her chef's doing the food shopping anyway so at the very least, she won't be starving.
I walked down one street in particular, spotting the young Lord Phantomhive and his demon-butler entering a funeral parlour called "Undetaker". What an odd name for a shop. I was feeling especially curious and nosey today, so I decided to investigate.
It isn't ladylike to be nosey, but I'm a demon so, I think there's room for an exception in the rules.
I quickly crossed the distance between myself and the funeral parlour. I walked right in, deciding my excuse to be that I'm looking for a coffin for an elderly friend - which wouldn't be a complete lie.
"-what to do in payment for my serv-hm?" this creepy old man stopped mid-sentence, looking towards me since I've just entered his parlour.
He didn't really look old, at least not the typical kind of old. He was lean and tall, probably a bit over six feet - a little taller than Sebastian. He had long silvery grey hair that fell to his lower back, and long bangs that completely hid his eyes. A scar ran from above his nose, as far as I could tell because the rest of it was covered by his bangs, all the way to the corner of the right side of his jaw, crossing his cheek. A somewhat creepy huge grin was situated on the odd man's face.
The man wore black robes, with a kind of thick grey scarf or sash going over his left shoulder, down to his right hip where there was a tie, and went back around to his left shoulder again. His sleeves were long, loose, and wide, they covered his hands completely. There was a chain with some charms on it, acting as a sort of belt. The man also wore black boots covered entirely by numerous straps. A crooked black top hat sat on the man's head, a long piece over a metre long was attached to the hat and swooshed around behind the man.
Overall, this funeral director was very peculiar. He seemed familiar somehow.
"Oh? What do we have here?" the odd man asked, giggling creepily.
I didn't feel particularly creeped out, but any normal person would've been.
"Lady Celia," Earl Phantomhive acknowledged.
"Allow me to introduce you. This is Lady Celia, an advisor to Lady Elinton. Lady Celia, this is the Undertaker," Sebastian introduced.
That's when it struck me.
"You! I know you! You're that irritating Grim Reaper who stopped me from consuming Marie Antoinette's soul!" I blurted out, completely forgetting that Lord Phantomhive was present.
"Oh, so you do remember me," the Undertaker giggled creepily again.
"You're a demon?" Lord Phantomhive asked, suspicious.
"I presume you know about demons and all?" I asked.
"Yes. What business does a demon have here?" Lord Phantomhive queried.
"Nothing. I just saw you two and I followed you. So, what business do you have here?" I inquired.
"It isn't any of your business. Now, please leave us," Lord Phantomhive asked of me politely.
"Oh? But perhaps I could be of service?" I offered.
"I doubt that," Lord Phantomhive said, in a hope-crushing tone.
Well that put me out just a bit.
"Oh, I think CeCe here could be of great use to you. She's more knowledgeable about the underworld society than her looks let on," the Undertaker spoke with a funny accent, or maybe that's just his ridiculous pitch of voice. He giggled creepily as usual.
Honestly, I think that man hasn't the capability of being angry. Or the capability of being normal, not that I should be one to talk - I am a demon after all, that's not exactly normal.
"Hm, let us see. You know about the series of mysterious murders occurring in downtown London, I presume?" Sebastian asked, most likely amused by the sudden turn of events.
"Of course, so far two little girls, a priest, a young lad, and an elderly woman have been murdered, correct?" I asked, wanting to confirm the murders we were talking about.
"Yes, that's correct. Can you give us any leads on the case? Scotland Yard is at a dead end and of course, the Queen has asked us to investigate," Sebastian explained.
Lord Phantomhive looked on, expectant. The Undertaker seemed jolly as usual, that freakish big smile on his face. Sebastian seemed amused, a small smile was present on his lips.
"…The victims' hearts. They've all been ripped out…And their bones. Their bones have all been removed - in a crude fashion, might I add," I apathetically stated.
In actuality, I felt like crying. Ripping someone's heart out…is horrible. It's so sad… But just because I feel sad doesn't mean I have to show it. Especially with a demon and a Grim Reaper in my presence, not to mention a mere human. Letting a human see me cry would be disgraceful. I may feel emotions but I still have my dignity as a demon…more or less.
"Hm, anything to add?" Lord Phantomhive turned to the Undertaker.
"Nope, she took the words right out of my mouth," the Undertaker giggled.
"Thank you for your help, Lady Celia. Come Sebastian, let us go," Lord Phantomhive ordered.
"One minute my Lord," Sebastian paused before passing me. Lord Phantomhive continued walking, opting for waiting outside. "How is it you knew such details of the murders?" Sebastian asked me in a low tone.
"It's just as the Undertaker said, I'm actually fairly well connected in the underworld society. But I'm also well connected in other areas. I learned those details of the murders from a confidential informant, so I can't tell you their identity," I murmured in reply.
"Are you sure? Not even a hint?" the demon-butler whispered huskily into my ear, stepping closer to me.
"Sebastian. I may be a demon, but I don't let information slip so easily. Stop insulting me, I don't like to be manipulated," I said firmly.
"Perhaps I've underestimated you just a tad bit," Sebastian mused, stepping back. "Until next time then. But I must say, a demon whom feels such empathy towards human suffering, is most unusual."
And with that, the demon-butler walked towards the exit. Just before he left, I muttered something that stopped him in his tracks.
"Damn demon-butler," I muttered, irritated that he could read me so easily. I knew he could tell that I wanted to cry when I thought of those poor people who's hearts had been ripped out and bones had been stolen.
"What was that?" the demon-butler taunted, amused.
"You know exactly what it was," I ground out, my teeth clenched. This demon-butler made me angry, with his smug perceptiveness.
"…Good day, Lady Celia," Sebastian finally left.
A silence followed that was quickly broken.
"So what was that just now, eh?" that annoying Grim Reaper asked, all smug.
I ground my teeth again, "Why don't I just call you Dante? 'The Undertaker' is too much of a mouthful," I changed the subject.
"Changing the subject eh? Oh well, anyway. Why 'Dante'?" the Undertaker asked, confused but giggling still.
"Because 'Undertaker' reminds me of someone guiding a soul to the Underworld. The Underworld reminds me of Inferno, meaning Hell in Italian. And Inferno reminds me of Dante's Inferno, hence the name Dante," I explained. "Dante is so much easier to call you than 'The Undertaker'."
The Undertaker giggled creepily as usual. That damned Grim Reaper, still irritating me after a decade or so short of a century. "Alright, tell you what. If you can give me a first rate laugh, I'll let you call me Dante, hehe."
"Damn you, you stupid Grim Reaper. Ugh, — — — —, — — - — — — —- — — - —," I finished speaking.
"HAHA AHAHA HEHEHEH EHEE HAA HEHEEH AHAH!" the undertaker burst out giggling maniacally, his foot twitching, and his back hunched over.
I wasn't amused. I hated making the silver-haired prick laugh, it was a most annoying task yet the lunatic insisted I was so skilled at it.
"So, I can call you Dante now?" I wanted to confirm our deal.
"Hehe, yes, yes, you can call me Dante. Hehe," the creep continued to creepily giggle as usual.
"Alright then. See you around then, Dante," I bid farewell to 'Dante'.
As amusing as the old prick was, he was still irritating. Just like that demon-butler, come to think of it. I couldn't wait to share my stories with Miss Geneva, she'll surely be interested.
I continued on my way back to the Elinton Manor, excited to tell Miss Geneva of my adventures. Of course I'll be leaving out the parts that include murder and all.