The Butterfly Affect

Chapter 1||Wakey Wakey||

I couldn't help but groan, I woke up to a blackened darkness and paused. How the hell did I die? I cocked a brow and pulled my arm up, yet I hit something and I pulled the wooden casket open. "Fucken hell," I grumbled glancing around a dark shop that really needed cleaning; "Where in the hell am I?" Giggles flooded my ears as I turned to a tall man with long silver hair, and a mop of bangs covering half his face yet his jaw gave away that he was an attractive man. "Quite the mouth ye got there dearie," He snickered making me raise a brow, "The hell ya talking bout' it's normal, wait your British?" I spoke completely cutting myself off as he tilted his head smirking, "Yes I am British?" He questioned and I grumbled, don't tell me those damn twins used another spell on me. "Lass, are ye alright?" I glanced at the male, he was close leaning down tilting his head as I did the same; "I will once I learn the year." I spoke leaning on my palm as he hummed, "1886." I froze my orbs widening, I'm going to kill those damned witches. My brow twitched and I clenched my fists; "Those damned assholes are going to die," I hissed as he hummed, "Do you mind me asking what year ye thought it be?" He spoke looking me up and down, right ripped skinny jeans and a low-cut tank top ain't really victorian wear. "2024," His lips parted as he gawked at me, "My friends are witches they probably sent me here to do some shit," I gave a short explanation as he hummed and I pulled myself up. "I'm sorry for the intrusion sir, I'll go ahead and get outta yer hair." I spoke fixing to leave as he caught my arm and I glanced back; "Dearie ye can't really go out like that," he warned and I sighed, "I'm well aware, but I don't really care if someone gets offended by a pair of tits then they can shove it up their ass." A grin crept onto his lips as he laughed, I blinked as his voice echoed through the shop and I swore something crashed outside. I smiled and joined him, laughing with the man, his laugh is really addicting! We calmed ourselves as I leaned on a wall clutching my stomach as he was draped across a coffin drool coming out of his mouth. "Ye a funny one Dearie," he wheezed and pulled himself up as I leaned up; "Thorn, my name is Thorn Lucilfer." I spoke as he shook my extended hand; "The Undertaker," he chirped making me giggle, "Nice to meet you and your laugh is amazing." His grin softened slightly as we released hands, "Thank ye, dearie, from your accent I believe your American?" I nodded, "That I am," he paused and a hum caught my attention; "How about ye stay here? For the time until you go back?" He asked as I cocked a brow; "If I can ask what your intentions are? From the looks of this place, it's a morgue, ah parlor?" I questioned the term as he nodded, "That is right, it is me morgue and simply because you're interesting and funny." He snickered making me grin, I paused shifting back on my heeled boots, I can't tell rather he was human or not and I haven't seen him in the future. So he could be just a human trying to help me, though that doesn't explain why he was so nonchalant about me mentioning witches and time traveling. I tilted my head as a hum flooded my lips; he is rather patient waiting for my reply. "Can I clean the place?" I asked as he paused and tilted his head, muttering how it wasn't that bad. "I heard that and I'm not meaning to be rude, if I stay I'd like to help you." He seemed taken aback and chuckled; "Alright," he spoke and I smiled; "Thank you I appreciate you letting me stay." His grin broadened as he motioned me to follow, "No problem Dearie," I guess I have another nickname? Eh, it's not bad.

Living with Undertaker wasn't bad at all, he's really fun to hang around and we both get each other to laugh constantly. I finished the sweeping in the main room and the man peaked out from downstairs; "Dearie, would you like to go out into London today to get ye some clothes?" He asked leaning against the frame as he messed with his gory gloves; "Yea, I have my wallet so I can pay," He tilted his head, "Do you know the currency?" I froze then glanced away making the male snicker; "I have forty bucks?" I questioned, "Is currency that high in the future?" He questioned taken aback, "Yeah, shit's expensive." He hummed with a nod; "That's more than enough around here," I nodded at the man; "Thank you, Undertaker, let me know when we leave," I paused glancing at my clothes and he chuckled as I set a hand to my hip; "Please tell me I don't have to wear a damned dress." I grumbled as he snickered; "Sadly yes you do," A whine flooded my lips as I leaned on the broom, regretting it instantly because I fell; my arm slammed into the wooden floor as the male rushed over. Hey, nothing broke? I pulled my body up as he crouched beside me peeling off his gloves he helped me up; "I'm alright, I've had a lot worse than some tiny fall as you can tell I'm short as fuck." I grumbled making the man chuckle as I sat on my knees; "You should still be careful Dearie," he spoke cupping my arm and pulling it up to examine it; "You bleeding, come on." I blinked, I am? He helped me up and we slipped upstairs; it'll heal soon, I need to stop him. But if I do, I paled as he slipped to the sink with a rag and put some water on it; "I got it, I can do it Undertaker don't worry." I tried making the man frown and I pursed my lips; "Thorn, whatever you are hiding, it won't change anything. Let me fix you up," My orbs widened hearing his deeper tone, that strung with authority, was this the first time he's said my name? He leaned down and pulled my arm as I glanced away and he wiped the blood yet the wound was gone and healed, I turned my head feeling his gaze. He ruffled my hair, making my orbs widen as I looked at the male. "Seems we should get to know each other better Dearie," he chirped slipping back into that singsong voice, yet it seemed forced, making my brows fold. In these last two weeks, we've done nothing but joke with each other, never asking about the other just jokes and giggles. My gaze softened; "Then be yourself around me, don't put up that mask." I spoke making him pause, if I could see his eyes I'd say they were wide as he stared at me. You can only know so much about a person, but even they hide chapters of their lives they refuse to read out loud. Will I be able to hear these unsaid chapters this man holds? Or will he drown in his own pages?