Act One: Intern

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 "This must be the place," I looked up at the dark building in front of me before double-checking the address in my hand.
Out of all places, why somewhere like this? It smelled vile just from the sidewalk. They couldn't have chosen anywhere better, could they?
Well, it wasn't like I had a choice. Damn it, I just had to get it over with and I'd be home in no time.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the small shop. The bell chimed at my arrival and I looked around, but it was... Empty?

"Hello?"
The door closed behind me, and while my voice echoed, no answer welcomed me. Was this really right? Were they closed?
The small funeral parlor had a musk to the thick air. Black candles flickered a delicate dancing flame against the walls, but they were otherwise an unattended fire hazard.
My bag strap slipped off my arm and I plopped it beside me to the address written on my notepad one last time.
Nope, this was... Definitely the place.
"Hello? Anyone home?" I tried once more.
Seriously, if he wasn't even going to be here, I could go back home, right?
... Right?
Of course, it wasn't my fault if he wasn't here, they couldn't blame me for that!

Suddenly, a quiet creak pulled my attention to a tall casket propped against the wall.
Without warning, the lid began to slip and long, pale fingers slowly emerged.

I released a short scream and fell back. No way, I couldn't do it! I wasn't going to face zombies, no way in hell!
When the lid fell though, the stranger inside grinned brightly.
Oh... He looked... Decently human.
Wait, he was just a human!
"Sc-Screw you for that!" I began yelling before he got a word in, "Do you just hang out in ugly coffins all day waiting to scare people?! I should leave right now just for that!"

The man cocked his head with curiosity, allowing his long tendrils of silver hair to flow around him like a delicate ghost. As his bangs shifted, a deep scar across his face flashed an appearance.
This was the guy, wasn't it?
What did they call him again?
The...
Crap, I forgot his name, I wasn't listening when I was being told the details.
After a moment to consider what I said, the stranger chuckled under his breath as he hobbled out,
"So soon? But you just got here," His voice was scratchy, but rather playful as his dark robes dragged out below his feet.
The stranger reminded me of a priest perhaps, which wasn't that surprising considering the place we were in.
No (Y/N), you couldn't just run off from a short scare, you wouldn't let them win that easily.

With a shaky hand, I picked up my bag once again to face him,
"I'm (Y/N), I was sent here to inquire about an internship of about three weeks."
Where was it? The man waited at the counter patiently, hands folded as I fumbled around my bag before finally finding the letter and holding it out.
"My parents said they were old friends of yours and you would be willing to give me a job."

"Oh really now?" With curiosity piqued, he took the letter and unfolded it. The shop fell silent as he read, but his grin grew ever wider, "Oh my, now this sounds exciting! I haven't seen their names in so long. And what's this? They say you're the rebellious type, do they?"
"I am not," God damn it, did they really write something like that down? What else did they say about me?! "Look, the situation is that I'm engaged in an arranged marriage. The guy is a complete pig and they won't get it through their heads that forcing dinner parties every week isn't going to make me suddenly get along with him."
"Oh yes, it does mention that, doesn't it?" The man didn't even look at me as he put his feet up to keep reading, "They want you straightened out before your wedding too. This is quite the rare situation for a noblewoman like yourself. What are you, eighteen?"
"Nineteen,"
Most girls my age were already wed, but with my resistance so far, they had to put it off another year. I didn't care about something like that at all though, let their reputation take a hit!

After a long moment to read my parent's letter, he finally turned back to face me, a devilish gleam on his lips that showed off a row of sharpened teeth,
"This is rather unconventional, but it sure sounds like fun!"
"It's not supposed to be fun," I felt a nervous tremble run down my spine, "It's just another attempt at their attempt to break my spirit, and it's not going to work. Just tell them you refuse and I can go home."

The stranger pulled himself back up, his long hair falling over his shoulders as he leaned over the counter. I could smell a strange, damp scent off his clothes the closer he got, but held my ground. Was this a staring contest? How idiotic.

"And why..." The man cocked his head, "Why would I do that? A little noblewoman like yourself in a shop like this, asking me for a job. Are you as stubborn as they say you are? Oh, I can't wait to see!"
"You're not seriously agreeing to this?!"
Was he insane?! Was everyone insane?!
My parents sent me to a mortician for a job, and he actually accepted! Has the whole world gone completely mad? This can't actually be happening, I'm a noble, aren't I?!

I must've been zoned out from the news, because I didn't notice the stranger grabbed my hands until his slender palms were grasped over my fingers,
"You must already know, but how about some introductions? I'm your new boss for a while! They call me The Undertaker! Who are they? No idea!"
The man's grip was tight, and his welcoming handshake was even more aggressive. I thought I was going to fall over before he finally let go, urging me to pull my arms back quickly,
"(Y/N)," I soon found my words once more, "And don't touch me, commoners don't shake hands with nobles."

"Of course," The Undertaker agreed, but sounded more sarcastic than I felt. Was I imagining that tone just now or... "Well if you're going to be working here, let me show you around! Wouldn't want a little canary like yourself to fumble around."
"Just show me the basics, as minimal as possible."
Whatever weird stuff was in here, I didn't care. The less the better, I wouldn't be walking in here again.
"Oh, don't you know what they say about minimalism?"
The mortician cast a short glance back, urging me to raise an eyebrow,
"No, what?"

The weird guy giggled to himself for a moment,
"Well, it's the least you can do."

That... Was a really shitty joke. He laughed about his own comment before he picked a book off a back table, half covered with some sewing fabric,
"Here we are! I never need to use this anyway, but someone like you..."
Really, a book? No, wait-
An obituary, that actually would be pretty helpful in a place like this.
As I took it, my fingers touched his own, and my skin crawled. God, he was such a creep, just an accidental brush made me uncomfortable. What was with this guy?
Nevertheless, I tried to shake it off and flip it open.

"Now, this here has the names of everyone in the shop right now," When the Undertaker tapped a finger to the page I was on, his long, black nail scraped along the paper, "They're marked how they'd been prepared already, ain't that useful? I did all the hard work for you."

I flipped the pages to find everyone was alphabetically by last name, and they all had a status mark on them. In processing, partial embalming, full embalming, and completed.
God, it was making my head hurt just to look at all these names. He better not expect me to actually remember any of this. I'd be using this as a cheating guide, not a study book.
When I was satisfied, I swiftly shut it and flashed The Undertaker a short glare,
"Yes, that'll be useful. What else? Let's get this over with so I can actually do some work and get home. I don't have all day to screw around like the lower class do."

The man's gleam shifted to a frown, and it appeared like he wanted to say something, but kept restraint,
"This way,"
He waved to follow and started off once more.
I set the book down and examined the shop as we walked. It was even more cramped the farther in we went. The walls were coated in various fabrics and different coffins lined up carelessly. There was no question The Undertaker wasn't expecting my arrival. My parents didn't tell him jack, did they? Just another person getting screwed over by their horrible decisions.
Along the way, a glisten caught my eye and I stopped to see what it had been.
Although behind some fabric, the sharp point of a weapon made itself clear.
What the hell... Was this lunatic armed?
I broke away from following to move to the wall and get a better look.
The metallic shine urged me to pull the fabric aside.
The sharp point slowly started to expand into a large blade before suddenly, they were yanked back into place and The Undertaker was holding a hand against the wall over the item.
"Snooping is unbecoming of a noblewoman. Let's get back on track, shall we?"
"If you're armed, you're required to tell me," I pushed back, "I refuse to work beside someone with a weapon."
"Mere decoration," The man waved it off swiftly, "Wasn't it you that wanted the quick tour? Come along now."

Damn it... This was just getting more unnerving. How did my parents know this guy again?
With one final look to the peeking blade, I pulled myself away to continue following his path. I wouldn't forget about this, just wait, I'd see it soon.
"Now tell me," The Undertaker chirped up once more as though it never happened, "What's this about a wedding? Who's this arranged fiance of yours?"
What was this, an interrogation?
"That's not any of your business. I didn't come here to unload my private life."
"Now now, I'm merely making conversation to learn about my new employee," The man giggled softly as he opened a door, "I keep all the corpses in the basement here. Embalming is rather smelly so keep the door closed when you work."
With a wave of his hand, the mortician encouraged the scent to waft into the main floor, but even as I took a deep inhale, I couldn't smell a thing.
Yet, he exhaled in satisfaction,
"Oh yes, the highest quality of products. All the bodies are preserved. It would be quite a problem if the entire street smelled of death. Why, I'd get Scottland Yard at my door every other day!"
Huh... While I wouldn't admit it, I was quite impressed. Making a room full of corpses smell like nothing probably wasn't an easy task. That made things nicer at least, I wouldn't be smelling decay for three weeks. I was in no hurry to run down there anyway.

"One more place to show you,"
The Undertaker suddenly shut the door, causing it to slam as he grinned. Wow, really? Only three things, maybe this would be easier than I thought!

Before I knew it though, I was looking at a broom closet and a feather duster was in my hands.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Work is work," A tease melted through his voice, "Now come along, you can spend the rest of the day cleaning. I hardly have time to do it myself when so many people are dying to see me."

No amount of jokes would make this okay!
"I'm a noble!" I refuted with a snap, "I don't do dusting!"
"Ah~" In response to my argument, The Undertaker rubbed his chin in thought before he smiled, "You see, I don't really care. I'm your boss now, aren't I?"
So he was going to pull that, wasn't he? It was a useless argument when I didn't even want to be here. Suddenly, I had a flicker of an idea. How didn't I think of it before? If I got him to fire me on the first day, I wouldn't have to do a thing!
For the first time, I returned a grin as I offered the duster back,
"Oh, you have it all wrong. I'm only here to appease my parents. I never agreed to get dirty. So I guess you can just send me home and fire me now. Oh well, worth a try, better luck next time, huh? Don't worry, you did your best."

Humbled ((Undertaker X Reader))Where stories live. Discover now