Prayers For Rain (Undertaker x Original Female Character)

5: Offer You Can't Refuse

Lucretia paced in her bedroom that night, debating on her options.

1. Get killed by Jack the Ripper and have to get sewn back up by the Undertaker.
2. Get mutilated by Jack the Ripper and have to get sewn back up by the Undertaker, barely missing death but living the rest of her life horribly deformed.
3. Catch Jack the Ripper and save lives, making money in the process.
4. Say no and let him continue to kill prostitutes.

She dialed the number on the card and held the land line to her ear, waiting as it rang. The receiver clicked and someone picked up.

"Phantomhive manor," Sebastian asked.

"Sebastian? It's Lucretia. I apologize for calling late but I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't," she sighed.

"That's alright ma'am. I assume you have made your decision?" he asked, waiting for a response.

"I'll do it," she spoke hesitantly and after she did, she regret it immediately. "But I am very nervous about it and I have to know that I'll be safe."

"Yes ma'am I will make sure you'll stay safe, per my master's orders."

"Alright, thank you. When are we doing this thing?" she asked out of curiosity, wanting to know how much time she'd have to mentally prepare.

"Tomorrow evening. You should be dressed, well...accordingly," he refrained from using the term 'like a hooker'.

"Oh." Not much time at all to prepare. "Alright. See you then at the Undertaker's."

"Yes ma'am, we look forward to working with you, have a good night," Sebastian spoke almost sincerely.

"You do the same, bye-bye." she hung up. "Fuck." she fell face-down onto her bed and called it a night.

...

Lucretia trudged into the funeral parlor in clothes that she thought were wildly inappropriate for work. Nothing was worse than walking down the streets
of London in broad daylight, dressed in tight leather. Almost everyone she passed had some disapproving look to give her, but the whole way, she reassured herself that she was doing this to bring her neighbor justice.

"You look different today, dearie," Undertaker grinned and giggled as she walked into his shop.

"I'm so uncomfortable," she chuckled nervously as she adjusted her leather skirt which felt a size too small and several centimeters too short. The Undertaker glanced down and back up. "But I don't have time to change at home or anything. I'm gonna be bait tonight."

"Yes I see," he hummed, glancing her over again, noticing more of her legs visible, accentuated by fishnets. "I have an extra cloak if you would like it for work."

"Yes, please," she breathed out a sigh of relief and followed him to his back room, the smell of incense hitting her but it just felt like home where she burned incense too. "That's dragon's blood, isn't it?"she smiled.

"Right you are," he chuckled and took a cloak off of its hanger and helped her put it on.

When Lucretia got the cloak on, she was enveloped with the smell of the Undertaker: incense and the faint scent of the earth, likely from digging graves  and gladly took in the oddly comforting scent. The cloak dragged behind her on the ground like a black wedding dress' train; the sleeves were too long as well but she rolled them up so that she wouldn't be bothered by them all day.

...

Nine p.m. rolled around, a time she had been hoping would never come, came sooner because she wished it wouldn't. On the dime, the Earl and his butler came into the parlor.