Prayers For Rain (Undertaker x Original Female Character)

7

It must've been four or five in the morning when the sound of a chainsaw returned, this time, sawing the door of The Undertaker's parlor down.

Lucretia woke up with a gasp, frantically looking around, grabbing The Undertaker by the cloak and pulling her to him, "he's back, why is he back?!" she was shaking with fear, and tears quickly formed in her eyes.

"It's okay dearie, I'll take care of it," he pried her off of him and stood up to leave. He was tired of this over-eccentric reaper's antics to kill his apprentice.

"Please don't leave," she whimpered and he turned back to her.

The Undertaker looked at the pitiful expression on her face: pure, unadulterated fear. He realized that for right now, he was the only sense of security she had. "I won't," he nodded and helped her stand.

The second Lucretia was on her feet, she collapsed, trying to get herself back up with Undertaker's help. She caught a glimpse of the man with a chainsaw, his appearance had changed; he now had long red hair—like the Undertaker's silver hair—and a red trench coat. She fell backwards and tried to make her way back to the bed but the Undertaker kept her in place with a tight grip on the small of her back. He ushered her out to the man with the chainsaw, a hungry grin on his face.

"Leave," the Undertaker spoke, pointing to the door with his free hand. No grin was to be found on his face. With his other hand, he held his scythe behind his back, hidden from the reaper's view.

"Oh no, not until I've painted her red and reaped her soul. She's due to die tonight," the man pointed his running chainsaw at Lucretia who cowered back, clinging to the Undertaker. "Oh? Have you grown attached to the human girl? I'm sorry but that just won't do!" The redheaded man lunged at Lucretia and in a split second, she screamed in fear, and her eyes were covered by the Undertaker's hand.

Before the chainsaw could reach her, it collided with something else metal from what Lucretia could hear, the sparks flying as the chainsaw kept going. She held tightly to his arm and squeezed her eyes shut; even if she was terrified, she knew that whatever was going on, she probably shouldn't look.

The Undertaker shook his head so that his bangs moved out of the way of his eyes, "I would hate to call your superior for misconduct, Grell." He readjusted his hold on Lucretia who was shaking, her legs getting weaker at holding herself up.

"I could say the same to you for still having that after retirement," he grinned.

By now, Lucretia stood halfway in his cloak with him, her head on his chest, facing away from the man with the chainsaw who she now knew was named Grell. She readjusted herself to hold onto his shoulders as she could feel her leg becoming even weaker and blood beginning to seep through the bandages.

Lucretia inhaled his scent, trying to focus on that instead of the whirring of the chainsaw.

"Don't act foolish. Leave, like I asked!" Undertaker raised his voice and took whatever he was holding and knocked Grell to the ground with the butt-end of it. It was the first time Lucretia had heard the Undertaker get angry and raise his voice. His voice boomed, and his chest rose with anger as her head was still against it.

"Fine!" Grell growled and left, leaving the door to the parlor completely gone, cold wind gusting in along with a bit of snow.

"That was easier than I thought," the Undertaker said, sounding almost surprised, "the stubborn pest." He seemed to be referring to Grell.

When he looked down, Lucretia was still clinging to him, shaking and teeth quietly chattering. He ran his fingers through her hair, in an attempt to calm her down which somewhat worked. "He's gone," Undertaker spoke softly; much different from when he yelled at the reaper. He looked down at his apprentice as she clung to him, struggling to hold herself up.

"Thank you," she spoke but it came out muffled against his chest. Now he knew she wasn't scared but clinging onto him for warmth because her clothes certainly weren't warm enough.

"Of course dear," he guided her back to his back room and shut the door behind them. "You should lay back down and rest."

Lucretia sat down on the edge of his bed and quickly rubbed her arms trying to warm up. When she looked up, he took off his own cloak and draped it over her, now only in what looked similar to a priest's uniform. "Oh, no you need that" she shook her head looked and saw that his boot buckles went all the way up to his thighs.

"Don't be silly, do you think that'll be warm enough?" Undertaker sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She nodded, falling silent as she stared at the ground.

"How come you let me in? And went to all this trouble to help me?" Lucretia's gaze did not break from the ground. She sniffled once, indicating that she was not done crying for tonight.

"You're my apprentice, dollface," he pulled her closer to him, squeezing her shoulders a little bit, being cautious to not hurt her while doing so. "Why would you ask something so silly?" He chuckled in an attempt to lift her spirits.

"I don't know maybe because I'm tired," she smiled and looked up at him, "but really, I don't understand why. I may be your apprentice but that's barely been a week."

"Because I would rather you not come through my door in a black bag. I would break my old heart to have to put you back together," he answered honestly, trying his best to keep his smile.

"Thank you," she whispered and pulled him into a hug. What little bit of sentiment he showed, made her tear up again and tears fell down her cheeks onto his shoulder. Someone was finally willing to protect her.

Lucretia truly wished she hadn't taken the job from the Phantomhive boy. She now understood that no amount of money was worth what she went through tonight and what she could have put her friends through, had things gone south.

The Undertaker combed his fingers through her hair that had bed-head since she had been asleep but it didn't make a difference to him. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled her scent of the cookies she had baked specifically for him. "You should go back to sleep." He looked down to her melancholy features. She was horribly traumatized by the way her eyes could not focus. Even when she had looked up at him, it seemed as though she was looking through him.

With a silent nod she moved to lay down and put her head on his lap and adjusted the cloak of his that she wore. She took in the warmth of his body underneath her and slept as peacefully as she could on a night like this.

Oh, dearie, I think Grell might be right; I have grown attached to the human girl. He ran the back of his index finger across her cheek as lightly as feather, feeling the softness of her skin against his own.