He dragged her behind him as he ran through corridors and down stairs, babbling all the way.
"You recall, do you not, Aria, the times we would perform autopsies together at my shop? You may then also recall the talks we had and how fanciful they were. We would talk about how fantastic it would be if that greatest of all illnesses could be conquered: death. You remember don't you?"
She nodded in response, but she doubted he was actually expecting a reply.
"We talked and speculated on how marvelous it would be if death could be overcome by that great organ that encapsulates the whole of life: the brain."
She had an idea where he was going with this, and she did not like it.
"So, I thought to myself, why waste my life away in this funeral parlor prettying up the dead when I could be resurrecting them? If Christ could do it, why not me? Ha! There's a lark! Christ Undertaker! Ha!"
His bark of laughter intensified the crazed nature of his ramblings.
"And what better place to work on the brain than a hospital that works on the mind? And I have so many different kinds of brains to work with, some less crazy than others."
Here he threw her a wink whose implications were all too clear.
"But with any great discovery comes experimentation, and I need the time and the resources to continue my research until I find the answer. That's where you come in, darling."
He spun on her so fast she nearly tumbled down the stairs they were descending. Darting his hand out, he caught her arm and pulled her close. Too close.
Her eyes locked with his green ones and he smiled at her. He was so insane. So beautifully insane.
"I need your help, my dear. That bungler Carmichael doesn't have the vision. I need him for his building and his patients, but his mind isn't like ours. It can see the advance, it knows it's there, but it can't comprehend it. You can understand the significance of my work, can't you, Aria? The genius of it? The enlightenment? You see why it is important and how it must be done, so you can help me. You can get me out of the mire I have sunken into and put an end to this stagnation. With your help, I can make this work. Together, we can solve the greatest mystery that man has ever known. The mystery of death itself!"
He was leering at her now.
"And I know how much you love mysteries."
There weren't very many instances in her past that had rendered Aria Sinclair speechless, but that's what she was at that moment: disgusted and mystified beyond words.
"Nothing to say, my dove? Very well. I'm sure your eloquence will come back to you once you have seen the work I have accomplished. Down the stairs, come now."
Turning around, he began dragging her down the spiraling staircase once more. They had long gone past the ground floor, that much she was certain of, and the darkness became more and more dense with every step they took. Eventually torches replaced lamps hanging from the walls, giving the area a medieval atmosphere. The air was becoming mustier, filling her lungs with dank breath. Whatever workshop Undertaker had set up down here was in horrendous conditions. This was no place for experimentation of any sort.
Finally, after descending for what seemed like ages, her feet hit a solid platform, decidedly not one of the hundred crumbling steps they had just traversed. Indeed, the stairs stopped, leaving her to conclude that they must be in the basement, or at least the lowest level of Stonehart. Looking down, she saw the floor was made up of rough, uneven stones resembling the ones the building was made from. Loose dirt lay between the edges of the stones. Exactly how far below ground were they?
Focusing her eyes ahead, she saw they were in an expansive room that stretched into looming darkness. Running down the room on each side were sturdy wooden doors whose arch formation strengthened the medieval theme. These doors had iron rings as handles. Apt, she thought, and best kept hidden from the families that sent their relatives here.
After allowing her to scope out the place, Undertaker ushered her farther down the room and to a door on her right. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a set of keys and commenced unlocking the entrance to his hellish laboratory. Aria couldn't help but recall a similar display that took place only yesterday when William had retrieved his office key from his jacket pocket. The sight that awaited her here, however, was going to be much different from William's cleanly workspace. This would be far, far worse.
Thank God he would be coming, Aria thought, envisioning William's eyes, so like Undertaker's yet so very different. She would need his strength and support before this horrific episode saw its conclusion.
"Ready, dearie?" Undertaker's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Very," Aria lied, managing to sound interested and completely at ease.
The man chuckled. "Good, for I have much to show you."
As he said this, he pushed the door open and escorted her inside as though they were entering a ball room rather than a dank laboratory in the basement of a madhouse.
"Behold my work," he pronounced, flipping a switch on the wall at his left.
The room burst into spontaneous light. Having seen the conditions of the basement as a whole, Aria had thought that this room would also be lighted by fire. She had been wrong. Wires ran from the switch at Undertaker's hand, up the wall and across the ceiling, connecting a multitude of electric lights. It was as bright as day.
Sadly, this excess of illumination allowed her to view unimpeded the real horror of the room, and when she did, it took all her power to suppress the gasp that threatened to leave her lips. There, along the walls of the chamber hung a multitude of corpses, all in various stages of preservation. Some looked as though they could still be alive, others as though they'd be better off six feet under. The centerpiece of the room was a metal operation table, wiped clean for the moment, but the angry brown stains around the drain in the floor spoke of countless procedures. A table beside this held the equipment necessary for such work, including instruments whose necessity was not so marked.
A seemingly insignificant detail that caught her eye was the leather straps attached to the operation table. Here the cleaning was a little trickier, and there was still blood spotted on the metal buckles and stained into the straps themselves. Indeed, the corpse that was currently resting in her morgue had been here once upon a time. There was no telling what Godless tortures he had been guinea pig to.
"What do you think?" came Undertaker's voice, eager to hear her assessment.
She didn't hesitate in her response. "You've been industrious," she answered, "to have operated on so many bodies."
He smiled down at her. "Indeed I have." Slamming the door shut behind them, he jumped into the room, beckoning her to follow. "You see," he explained, "when patients die, a lot are never claimed. What to do with the bodies then? They are brought down here to me, where I carry out my experiments. You see these?" he asked, picking up a pair of thin, metal rods.
"Yes," Aria replied, following him but keeping a modest distance.
"They're electricity conductors that, when placed in the brain, send electrical currents throughout the organ. I have used them on many of my patients," he stated, waving a hand at the nameless bastards lining the walls, "with varying ranges of success. I need a more efficient way of stimulating the brain, one that is continuous and less cumbersome. If I ever happen to succeed at producing intelligent life, then I'll need something less conspicuous than metal rods sticking out of their noggins when I let them back out into the world."
He said this as though it were the most common sense thing in the world. Sadly, Aria couldn't disagree with him. Humans with antennas would cause quite a commotion.
"Then of course there is the added bonus that naturally comes with working in a madhouse," he commented, twirling the metal rods between his fingers so that they caught and reflected the cold light of the room.
"Oh?" Aria asked, arching an eyebrow. "And what would that be, other than the charming gothic atmosphere?"
Undertaker giggled with delight much like that of a child with a new toy.
"Why, my dear, having patients that die bonkers and resurrecting them sane."
)*(
William sat stoically as the woman across from him looked over his credentials. He was sure she would find them flawless. He had forged them, after all.
"It says here you worked at Bethlem Royal Hospital," Ms. Dunne remarked, looking over his resume. "Why did you feel compelled to leave their employment?"
"I'm looking for a quieter life," William supplied. "London is a marvelous city, but it is expensive to live in. Here, living is much cheaper, and I get the added bonus of fresh air and new surroundings."
He hoped his lie would convince the frowning woman of his story. It would be a shame if he were to be refused the job, forcing him to sneak around the institution like a crafty busybody. His pride did not need that, thank you very much.
Ms. Dunne huffed, bringing his attention back to the interview.
"It seems you have all the necessary qualifications," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "When could you start working for us?"
"As soon as you deem appropriate, ma'am," he answered, smiling congenially.
After his infiltration of the Noah's Ark Circus some time ago, he had learned to hone his infiltration skills. As much as he had hated to admit it at the time, the young Earl Phantomhive had been right about how conspicuous he had been acting when undercover. This mission couldn't risk being jeopardized due to his incompetence.
"We could have you start immediately, if you're up for it," the stern woman stated, straightening his paperwork and sliding it back into its folder.
"That would be ideal," he returned, heaving a mental sigh of relief. Step one was complete.
"Good. I shall show you to your room, then give you a tour of the rest of the facility. Do follow me."
William did as he was bid and trailed after the matron. They exited a room on the ground floor and went up a flight of stairs at the end of the hall. Apparently the first storey consisted of the doctors' offices at the front of the building and the staff's living quarters at the back. Spears couldn't help but note that all of the hallways looked the same, making the hospital feel like a giant maze. He also couldn't fail to notice how quiet the establishment was. When eventually they reached the dormitories, he was beginning to wonder if anybody else worked here at all.
Evidently some of the rooms were occupied, as they passed by a good number of them before Ms. Dunne finally stopped at one she found suitable.
"This is where you'll be staying so long as you work with us," she spoke, shattering the eerie silence of the asylum.
William nodded but kept his words to himself.
"Due to the extensive number of workers required to run an institution of this magnitude and the lack of available living quarters, you will be sharing a suite."
"That's fine," he sighed, almost failing to keep the frustration from his voice. Being stuck with infiltration duty at an isolated madhouse was bad enough, but now he had to share a room? Couldn't he have one investigation where he was granted a place of his own?
"Here is your key," Ms. Dunne continued, handing him the metal trinket which was looped through a brown cord. He took it. "Keep track of it. You won't be getting another one."
"Of course," he stated, stepping toward the door to unlock and reveal his new home. He was not feeling optimistic.
Much to his surprise, however, upon reaching for the handle, he discovered that the door was already unlocked. Assuming that his roommate must be in, he swallowed his groan of disappointment and swung the door open. And there, standing by one of the beds at the far end of the room, was the worst thing that could have happened to him.
This time there was no hiding his discontentment with life.
"You..." he muttered to himself, trying to mask his familiarity with his roommate from the matron at his back.
"Dear me," the man inside the room started, standing up from his trunk and turning to peer at the two intruders. "What have we here?"
In his defense, he didn't sound too pleased with the situation either.
Shouldering her way into the room, Ms. Dunne came to stand between the two employees.
"Ah, Marlowe," the matron addressed the occupant of the room. "This is Edward Carton, a new hire and your roommate. Mr. Carton, this is Christopher Marlowe. I was going to give Mr. Carton a tour of the building, but seeing as you're handy, Mr. Marlowe, would you care to do so? I know you were only hired two days ago, but you know all of the essential places."
The raven haired man bowed and acquiesced.
Ms. Dunne nodded. "Good. I'll leave you to it then. Mr. Carton," she said in farewell before leaving the room and going back down the hall.
When her footsteps receded to where William couldn't even hear them, he shut the door and faced his new roommate.
"Well, this is unfortunate," the reaper stated, frowning.
"Indeed," the demon agreed. "Twice roommates. Perhaps the universe is attempting to force friendship upon us."
"I could never be friends with such a loathsome creature," Spears reminded him, moving toward his bed. "Still, I suppose it's best that my roommate is someone who knows of my reaper nature. It will save me from having to explain myself to some poor halfwit."
Sebastian Michaelis smirked. "I never thought I'd hear such words from you, Mr. Spears. Or should I say, Mr. Carton. Fond of Dickens, perchance?"
"Perhaps," the reaper responded, laying a suitcase on his marvelously solid mattress. It would be like sleeping on a stone slab. "And you, Christopher Marlowe. Not very subtle, are we?"
The demon chuckled. "I like to have a bit of fun now and then. Besides, my master gave me leave to choose my own nom de guerre."
"Ah yes, the young Phantomhive. Has the Queen called his attention to this asylum?"
Sebastian grinned devilishly. "You wish to engage in conversation with such a loathsome creature, Mr. Carton?"
William bristled. "I am attempting to be civil, actually, and glean information, if possible. Seeing that we are both here, it would seem that something is afoot, wouldn't you agree?"
"Indeed I would, Mr. Spears, and since my master has not forbidden me from speaking upon the matters which bring me here, I may even be willing to exchange my information for yours. How does that sound?"
William thought for a moment. As far as he could tell, there was no harm in sharing his reason for being at Stonehart Asylum. Besides, Michaelis was bound to find out anyway, since they would be sharing such close quarters for the foreseeable future.
With a sigh, William yielded to logic.
"Very well. I would not be averse to exchanging stories with you. However, I must ask that you go first. Demons have a tendency to lie, after all."
"Not I, Mr. Carton. I spin only tales of truth."
William's expression remained impassive. "Humor me, Marlowe," he stated, flipping open his suitcase, waiting for the devil's explanation.
Sebastian sighed. "Indeed, there isn't much to tell. My young master received a correspondence from Her Majesty two days ago which spoke of strange goings-on at this asylum that had some of the employees on edge. Knowing the popular opinion of most mental institutions, she asked my young master to investigate and ensure that all was well and orthodox. Upon reviewing the general information regarding Stonehart, my master thought it best to send me in his stead. A lunatic asylum is no place for a child, after all."
"Quite," William agreed as he sorted out his clothes.
"I am to send regular reports of my findings in order to keep him abreast," Sebastian went on. "He will direct the investigation from the comfort of his study."
William sensed a tone of mockery in the demon's voice, but didn't care enough to comment on it.
"Your turn," Michaelis chimed, sitting down on his equally uncomfortable mattress as though he were a child audience to a bedtime story.
Without turning around, William kept his part of the bargain.
"As I'm sure you're aware, the Grim Reaper Dispatch Association has been hunting a certain Undertaker of your acquaintance."
Sebastian's eyes widened fractionally, but he said nothing.
"One of my employees has a relative who was a medical colleague of the Undertaker's before his disappearance. This relative has recently been contacted by the fugitive by way of a rather morbid message which led us to this asylum. That relative left yesterday to come here and investigate the origin of said message, and was to send for me as backup if the Undertaker was present on the premises."
"And here you are," Sebastian concluded, letting the meaning sink in.
"Yes. Here I am."
The conversation ended after this revelation, leaving both parties to their own musings. Sebastian seemed to be pondering something, and William was doing a first rate job of not asking him about it when the man vocalized his question regardless.
"Who is this relative of your employee?"
"That is not your concern," the reaper responded, seemingly unperturbed by the demon's sudden curiosity.
"The reason I ask is that if this relative reported to you about Undertaker, then they would have to know about reapers, correct?"
"My, someone is perceptive today."
William sounded patronizing, which irritated Sebastian in a way he found unpleasant.
"And if they know of grim reapers," he went on despite William's reluctance, or maybe because of it, "then that would mean that they know their relative is a grim reaper. I must say, Mr. Spears, that this seems like a highly bizarre situation. However do you get yourself into these messes?"
William halted his unpacking and released a weary sigh. "Sometimes I ask that myself," he admitted, sounding overworked and underpaid.
Sebastian knew the feeling.
"You say this human relative of your reaper employee is undercover as well?" the demon continued.
"Yes," William admitted, apparently coming to the conclusion that Sebastian was not going to shut up.
"Am I going to meet this man?" Sebastian asked, lying back on his bed in an attitude of leisure.
"Most probably," William affirmed. "And he is a she, if you must know. I'm afraid she would be offended if addressed otherwise."
The demon sat up in surprise. "A woman? Do you mean to tell me there is a female medical practitioner undercover for grim reapers inside of this insane asylum?"
William smirked at the devil's uncharacteristic bafflement. It was quite entertaining. "Yes, I do mean to tell you that," William confirmed. "And since your pestering doesn't sound as though it's going to cease, I'll even tell you her name. I've heard she is an acquaintance of yours."
Sebastian looked puzzled. "Of mine? I'm afraid I have no human acquaintances with reaper relatives."
"Perhaps my sources were wrong, then," William remarked. "In that case, her name will meaning nothing to you."
Sebastian demurred. "Please, do tell me regardless. You see, I am an employee here, and it would help me immensely to know all of the doctors on the grounds. As one worker to another, I beg you."
The demon smirked up at him expectantly. William relented.
"Her name is Dr. Aria Sinclair."
Sebastian stood up from the bed.
"I beg your pardon?" the demon stated, staring intently at the back of the reaper's head.
"Ah, so you do know her," William muttered, finally turning to face his roommate.
"Yes, I am well acquainted with the lady in question," Sebastian informed him. "She is a good friend of mine."
William scoffed. "I wasn't aware demon's had friends."
"I didn't have any at all until just recently," Sebastian admitted. "Being an Earl's butler has its perks."
The reaper closed his suitcase with a deafening thud.
"Are you and the lady close?" he asked.
He would give anything to wipe that smug smirk from he demon's face.
"Yes," the butler replied. "Quite. Why do you ask?"
William frowned. "I do not want your friendship getting in the way of our investigation. That is all."
"Ah, but the fact that you say "that is all" suggests that it is not, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Carton?" The demon stepped forward. "Perhaps my alias should have been Darnay. That would have made this situation all the more amusing."
"You have nothing at all in common with that character, I'm afraid," William criticized, slightly angered that the demon should be making light of their situation. "I find your amusement both irresponsible and disgusting."
Sebastian shrugged. "Find my amusement however you will, Mr. Carton, I do not mind in the slightest. Should Dr. Sinclair come to any harm, I assure you that you won't have to worry about that particular vice."
William was slightly taken aback to hear such words from a demon's mouth.
"You care for her?" he asked incredulously.
It was the butler's turn to scoff. "I did tell you that we were close, did I not? Does your memory frequently fail you, Mr. Spears?"
William's expression was ice. "She shall not come to harm. I am here to ensure it."
"That is good to hear," Sebastian returned. "However, I have fought Undertaker before, and he is not to be taken lightly. Two of your employees and myself engaged him in battle upon the Campania and he escaped unscathed. I think it would be best if we work together, at least this once. Our interests run the same course in this instance."
Though repulsed at the though of working with a demon, William had to admit it was the best course of action. Both he and Sebastian were there for the same reason, and what the butler had said made sense. Undertaker was a force to be reckoned with, and facing him alone would be unwise in the extreme.
Balling up his revulsion and burying it deep, deep, deep within himself, William nodded his assent.
"Very well," he said, "upon two conditions."
"Name them," the demon commanded.
"Firstly," William began, "when this is over you allow the reapers to take Undertaker into custody without a squabble. I don't know if your master wishes to bring him in himself, but no human prison could possibly hope to hold him. He would be better off with us reapers."
"Agreed," Sebastian consented. "My master never ordered me to bring Undertaker to justice, simply to report to him and put an end to the questionable practices at this asylum. Name your second condition."
"That you do not do anything careless that would put our capture of Undertaker and Dr. Sinclair's safety in jeopardy. The Undertaker is nothing if not cautious and wily. If he caught sight of you in some way, he would leave in a moment and who knows when we'd ever find him again. Also, I would hate to be responsible for any misfortune that befell Aria."
"Aria?" the demon caught, arching an eyebrow. "So familiar and so soon? My, my, Mr. Spears, perhaps you are the force to be reckoned with."
"Quit your blathering, beast. Do you agree to the terms or not?"
"I do," Sebastian confirmed. "Shall we shake on it?"
The reaper hesitated, but decided there was no harm in it. Reaching his hand out to the demon, Sebastian took it in a firm grip, sealing their pact.
"How does it feel to make your first deal with a devil?" Michaelis purred, grinning.
Releasing the fiend's hand, William scowled. "Do shut up," he shot back, turning once more to his suitcase.
Sebastian chuckled. "Whatever you say, Mr. Carton."
For those who don't know, both aliases chosen by Sebastian and William are references. Christopher Marlowe was the author of The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Dr. Faustus, alternately referred to as simply Dr. Faustus, a play published in text-form in 1604. If the title isn't spoiler enough, it is the story of the fictionalized version of an actual historical Dr. Faustus, and how he made a deal with the demon Mephistopheles.
William's alias is pulled from Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities. Sydney Carton, one of the major characters in the novel, is in love with Lucie Manette. the wife of Charles Darnay (and now Sebastian's jab makes sense). I won't ruin the book for anybody who intends to read it, but basically it is set during the French Revolution, and Darnay is French (uh-oh). Darnay is portrayed as very kind and honorable, while Carton is rather unambitious and lazy, and he even finds himself pretty worthless. However, his actions at the end of the novel show his good heart and, for some people, raise him above the goodness of Darnay.
I would apologize for how long it took me to update, but I'm starting to sound like a broken record. Here is a long overdue chapter that I hope you all enjoyed!