Death Flower: A Black Butler FanFiction ©

Death Flower - Black Butler - Chapter Eight (Part One)

Undertaker's Shop, London - 00:12

Undertaker

I carefully lay Adalia into the coffin, placing a thin blanket over her lean frame. "She wasn't thinking straight, that was all.." I murmured, peering down at her sleeping form.

 I didn't quite know why I was feeling like this, it was unnatural, for a reaper, anyway. As I tended to the 'guests' in the mogue, Grell Sutcliff appeared before with a muss of unruly red hair falling over her face. 
"So, Undertaker.." She started, glaring at me as she circled me slowly. 
"I see you're quite taken with my darling Adalia, I knew it," She sneered, bearing rows of shark-like teeth. 
Unmoving, I stared her down with acid green eyes. 

"You'll find she moved onto me," I growled. Grell's face distorted with anger as she raised her hand, ready to strike me. 

"What's going on?" A sudden, feminine voice came from the door. Adalia stood there with tired eyes, the colour shifting from yellow-green back to grey and back again. Grell froze, lowering her hand slowly. 

"Adalia, go back to sleep this instant," She ordered softly, ushering her out of the door and back to her temporary bedroom, returning moments later with her rumbling chainsaw in hand. 

"Grell," I snarled in warning. 
"Withdraw your scythe, now," I warned, summoning my own scythe and holding it before me. Grell smile mischievously, charging for me and raising her scythe into the air before it began descending. 

Before I could skillfully dodge Grell's attack, Adalia came between us, a full fledged scythe in hand, holding it against Grell's. She shoved her mother off and turned to me, her eyes were feral, glowing a stunning emerald.
"Adalia.." I murmured, my scythe dematerializing into the air again. Grell recovered, smoothing her unruly, spikey red hair. 

"Well, Adalia, that was fast," She mumbled, crouching on the window ledge and jumping from it, disappearing into the night. Silence fell upon the room as Adalia calmly stared after Grell, her eyes not flickering nor her emotions wavering. I didn't realize when her back was turned to me that she transformed into an image so much like her mother's. It was nostalgic. 

At that moment, the bells chimed at the parlor of my home, so I left Adalia and headed for the Parlor. 

"Yes?" I arrived at the front door in seconds, finding the assistant of head of dispatch there with an envelope. 

"This is for your, Mr. Crevan. From Head of Dispatch himself, sir," She mumbled nervously. I took it wordlessly and read through its contents.. 

"Why should I--" I protested lifting my eyes from the crinkled paper, but the assistant had disappeared. Sighing frustratedly, I ran a hand through my hair. "When did my life become as it used to be? I wish to be amused again.." I murmured to myself. 

...

I had told Adalia to stay inside, her condition had suddenly took a turn for the worst and she ended up bedridden, I concluded it to exhaustion.  'Well, who do you know who's body changed race so suddenly to not be shocked? No one but Adalia' I thought to myself. I found myself in the halls of the dispatch.. again. I had been assigned reaper duty, filling in a young reaper, Alan, who'd also fallen ill. "It's as if I'm employed again.." I mumbled. It felt odd to be irritated, I hadn't felt like this in so long. So, so long.

It was then that a figure of red barged shoulders with me, and glared at the back of my head. "Please calm yourself, Miss Grell," I chuckled, pushing on to find my scythe. 

"Mr. Crevan? What are you doing back here? Hadn't you retired?" Joanne demanded. Joanne was head of the Scythes department, always giving everyone their scythes, and new recruits the scythes that were destined for them. 

I glanced at her and smiled. "It seems I'm having to fill in a young lad named.. Alan," I replied wrapping my hand around the scythe's staff and swinging it around. Nothing ever felt more familiar in my hands than this object. Joanne nodded and carried on scribbling in her notebook. 

"Well then," I started, hoisting the scythe over my shoulder. "I'll be off," I grinned. 

Author's note:

This is part one of chapter eight. I tried, REALLY tried, to pull off at least 600 words, and I did it.. somehow. 

Please don't be disappointed, Adrian's back to his reaping days as off this chapter and he'll be wearing his old glasses, too! 

Again, I squeezed as much of a story line into this as possible, I have literally no inspiration anyore, I'm just going through life in a little bubble right now. I don't even know if it's a phase or my anxiety and lack of social skills. 

Bye bye nooow!~