Momentum [(UNDERTAKER X READER)]

#18 - Aristocrats of Evil

"You know, " I said, feeling my arms already burning. "...that reminds me of the first time we met."

"Is that so?" Undertaker replied.

We finished digging a grave for Mary, at Earl's request. It was a simple grave, with a simple tombstone, but it was probably way better than a harlot could manage to have if she wasn't murdered to death by the watchdog's negligence.

"Well, if I recall correctly," I explained "you were holding a shovel just like this one at the other graveyard."

He giggled a little. "I have the livid memory of your startle in this humble head of mine."

"It was no one other's fault than yours." I pouted. That made him giggle harder.

"As much as I'd love to laugh a little more, I believe we require all the strength we need to lay our guest to rest." He stated.

I agreed in silence and we took her coffin, left close to us and away from the crowd at Angelina's funeral. We laid it slowly and steady inside the carefully dug grave, and started covering it all again with dirt.

It was an awful job. I'd very much rather stay at the lab doing my researches than doing this kind of painful work. But, well, we received a request, and I would hate to be on the Earl's bad side.

The mortician, on the other hand, wasn't even breaking a sweat. How is that possible?

"Dear God... Undertaker, are you even human?" I said, between pants. I was leaning all my body weight into the shovel, that sank in the dirt.

He chuckled, turning his face at me. "Hmmm... I wonder~" He played.

"Honestly, I don't want to do dig graves ever again."  I said, glaring at him.

"Well, I guess you get used to it after some time." He shrugged, and sat over the tombstone, shovel between his legs.

By then, we heard two sets of steps approaching. Turning my face to see who was it, I swallowed a screech of surprise. Ciel Phantomhive and his butler were already walking to us. The boy nodded at me as a greeting and turned at the mortician to speak.

"Undertaker. Are you finished?"

"But of course. I've made a reliably pretty little burial to our lady here." The mortician stood up and pointed at the tombstone he was sitting at. Her name was engraved in it. 'Mary Jane Kelly, Nov. 9th 1888'. 

"The final customer to the Ripper affair." I said, my throat dry. "It seems that she was a foreigner. Immigrant. No one could be found to take charge of the corpse."

Undertaker started poking Ciel's cheek playfully. "That's why the kind Earl gave even a homeless prostitute her own grave... ~"

He seemed merely annoyed by his touchy behavior. "I... Am not kind. I came to an understanding about why I could not save this woman. That night, if I had made her life my priority, there would have been countless opportunities to save her." He made a pause to sigh. "But I did not. While I understood that there was the possibility to save her, I made capturing Jack The Ripper my priority. I know I did not save her. I understood... and let her die." His next words were said almost in a whisper. "My bloody relative..."

"Are you regretting it?" Undertaker asked, putting the tip of his index finger over his lips.

"I am not. Jack the Ripper no longer exists. Queen Victoria's sadness has been alleviated." Ciel said, finally.

The mortician kept his finger over his lips, charmingly brushing his long nail on himself. "Victoria, huh? I don't like her. She does nothing but sightsee from way up high, and forces eeeee~verything harsh and dirty on the Earl."