Build Him Up With... What The Hell?

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Now, there were a few things I needed that were not available in the workshop, one of those things being extra-strength bug spray to take care of the termites living within Drossel's head. I had to step out into the real world to get some from the nearest shop. It was late, though, so not many places were open. Luckily, I was able to find something. I just hope it'll be strong enough to get rid of most, if not all, of them.

Once that's taken care of, I pick up a bag of straw from the corner of the room and use it to re-stuff his head, replacing what had fallen on the floor. Then, I find a sewing needle and a spool of orange thread. I might not be able to do anything about the chipped wood, but at least, I can cover the hole by sewing the hair together. That should keep in the straw as well. After it's all done, I step back and admire my work. Considering my lack of experience in sewing and doll care, I didn't do half bad. I was quite proud.

'I wonder if Undertaker will give me a coffin in exchange for a laugh, or if he'll actually make me pay? I better stock up on both jokes and cash to be safe. Suppose I can just leave him here for the time being. Not like he'll start to deteriorate or whatever.' I give a great yawn and groan as I rub my sleepy eyes.

"Shit, I'm beat," I mutter to myself while stretching my arms above my head. It was pretty late— No doubt nearing dawn, and I was pretty tried after all that running for my life. At this point, I didn't even want to bother punching the buttons to get home.

'If I remember right, the owner of this place was put in a sanatorium. Maybe I can just stay the night here? Hell, maybe I'll just move right in, since no one's using it.' I smile to myself at the thought and shake my head.

'Nah, that wouldn't be right. Besides, I have my own home I can go to. I'm just being lazy. Besides, what would I possibly do with all those rooms?' I pick up a hairbrush from a shelf and walk back to Drossel, using it to sort out his hair. He is a pretty doll, I'll give him that. When I was younger, I never had the desire to play with dolls or even want to be near them. I better preferred the plush animal variety, but Drossel isn't so bad. He's a possessed doll, but not the kind that wants to kill you. Turn you into a doll, yes, but not kill you, and even then, it no longer matters, since he's dead now... Double dead, I suppose, judging off of what Grell had stated earlier.

'Oh, wait, didn't he kill that guy on the bridge? Damn. Oh well.' I hum as I set the brush down before straightening up his jacket and call it a night. I've done all I can. Yawning again, I decide to just pull up a chair and use my coat, which had been left draped over another table, as a makeshift pillow to rest my head on. I'll sleep here tonight and go to Undertaker's first thing in the morning.

Black Butler and the Modern Reader S1Where stories live. Discover now