His Butler, Faithful

The Undertaker's Request

“Weeeeelll, now whooo do we have heeere?”

April stepped back in shock as a gray man with longer hair than hers came teetering over to her, taking both her hands in his. His bangs covered his eyes, but not the nasty scar that lined his face. He wore a top hat with a ribbon trailing down his clothes, which were far too big for him. Everything about him screamed “creepy.”

“My name is April,” she replied, expertly masking her fear of this man with her usual stoic face. “I am Earl Phantomhive’s maid.”

“Apriiiiil,” he crooned, “what a looovely name! I can’t waaaiiit for the pleasure of examining your body after you diiiee.”

“Now that we’ve introduced ourselves,” Ciel snapped, bringing the Undertaker’s attention back to him. “I have a few questions.”

“Ah, ah, ahhhh,” the Undertaker chuckled, wagging a gnarly finger at the boy. April cringed at his black fingernails- probably encrusted with more than just dirt… “Remember my provisions, young Eaaarrl. A witty quip will open these lips!”

“Very well,” the Earl sighed. “Sebastian, if you will.”

“Nooo,” the Undertaker drawled. “I want our new friiieend to make me laaaugh!”

“April?” said Ciel, pointing at the maid.

Sebastian smirked at her. “My my, April, it looks to me as if the direction of our investigation again falls to you!”

The Undertaker bounced happily, waving his arms in the direction of the door. “Now leaaave! I want to hear what she has to saaaay!”

Ciel scoffed and made for the door. Sebastian, before following his master, leaned close to April’s ear. “Good luck,” he whispered, his breath oddly cold against April’s neck. She shivered, more out of the closeness with Sebastian than nervousness. Still, as he shut the door behind him, leaving her and the Undertaker alone in a room full of coffins, she felt a little uneasy.

“You don’t neeed to tell me a humorous taaaale, although I’m suuure you have maaany,” said the Undertaker.

April blinked. “Wha-?”

He cackled, which was a high-pitched, raspy cacophony. “My deeaaar! Why don’t you laaay down in one of theeeese cooooffins? Let us figure out which is best for yoooouu.”

April pursed her lips. “Is this what you wanted me alone for? Well, I apologize to you, sir, but I am not a prostitute.”

He cocked his head. “I fear you have mistaken my intentions! I am not iiiiinterested in having sexual relations with the Phaaantomhive maid!”

Her blood curdled at this statement, making the situation so much worse. “Then why must I lay in a coffin?”

“To seeeee which one fits!”

April glanced at the doors, where she could make out the silhouettes of Sebastian and Ciel standing patiently. “Very well,” she sighed.

The Undertaker clapped his hands in glee and bounced over to a mahogany coffin that was about the same length as April’s height. “Shall we tryyyy this one?” He dragged a wooden stool by the table where the coffin was perched and motioned his hand to it.

The girl took a deep breath and stepped onto the stool, lifting her skirts to allow herself to climb into the coffin. She laid down and stared up at the low ceiling, her eyes darting back and forth out of uneasiness. The coffin was snug, and she fit well.

“Eeeexcellent,” the Undertaker snickered. “You’ll make a beautiful corpse!”

“Thank… You?” she stammered.

After helping her out of the coffin, the Undertaker stood in silence for a moment, with April glancing at the door awkwardly. “Well, I guess a funny story would be-”

“BFFFFHAHAHAHAHAHA!” His outburst startled April, and cued Sebastian and Ciel to return inside the shop. The Undertaker bounced excitedly. “Your maaaaid is soooo very huuuumorous!”

“What did you say?” said Ciel, giving April a strange look.

She cast her eyes to Sebastian and then to the still cackling man next to her. “I’d prefer not to say…”

“Noooow then,” the Undertaker sighed, clapping his hands together. “About those muuurders…”

“Yes?” said Ciel, his stern gaze returning to the grey man.

“It is true that I have been the one to dress up these loooovely laaaadies for their greatest ceremonies. They had families who still miiiis them.” He became thoughtful. “I nooooticed something straaaange about the droooowning.”

“We believe the girl was lured there somehow,” said Ciel, getting more excited.

“Yeeeesss? Through muuuusic?” Ciel nodded. “Lord Blackwell is holding a ball in the next fortnight. He’s taken the liiiiberrrrty of hiring one of London’s fiiiinest musicians.”

“Lord Blackwell.” Ciel narrowed his eyes. “He’d been a suspect in one of my previous cases. Very well then. Sebastian, we shall go to this ball and talk with the Lord and his musician. Thank you very much, Undertaker,” said Ciel, turning tail and walking out of the shop. Sebastian and April followed, but she looked back, spotting the Undertaker patting the coffin she laid in affectionately. He was looking at her while doing so.

You’re next. his expression seemed to say.