Humbled ((Undertaker X Reader))

Act Two: Pain

  The door jingled when I stepped inside, and I quickly attempted to fix my dress before I was seen by my new boss.
I could hardly sleep last night, and I didn't take the greatest care in getting ready in my exhaustion. Even with the servant's help, I was entirely improper.
My eyes swiftly looked to the coffin, prepared for any scares again, but it was totally open and empty. Fuckin' hell, where was he this time?
"I'm here," My voice echoed around the shop, "Right on time, like you said."
"Oh, wonderful, perfect!" The voice piped up from behind the counter before The Undertaker popped up, looking quite flustered himself, "It's been so busy today, quite unnaturally so, I've been working all night! Your help will be quite valuable."
The man's sleeve brushed over the counter, where his hand hidden inside it dropped a pair of medical scissors down with a deep exhale,
"Busy, busy."

Now that The Undertaker was in front of me, I took a better look at the strange mortician. I didn't care to remember his appearance before, but after speaking with my mother, there was something very strange about him.
The mortician's hair was long, reaching down to around his knees, and glistened with a silver glow. Not quite the silver of an elder but more like it had been touched by moonlight.
Aside from his long scar, his skin was soft and clear as well. Not a wrinkle to be seen.
The man walked with a slight hunch, but he didn't hobble or struggle. In truth, it was probably optional for him to walk like a zombie, wasn't it?
His clothes... They looked rather aged, but not totally antique. Black robes of silk, a bit long around the sleeve and leg areas with not much detail to them aside from a dulled grey sash over his chest.

He must've noticed my staring because The Undertaker suddenly grinned,
"Am I entertaining you?"
"No," I wouldn't let him try to get to me, "I'm just wondering how old you are. For being a friend of my family's, nobody really knows how you became acquainted."
The mortician waved off my questioning casually, not meeting my eyes,
"One of life's greatest mysteries~ Don't you know? You're never supposed to ask a funeral director their age, it's quite rude."
Yeah right, I'd never heard a rule like that before. Everything he said just amped up my suspicion tenfold. What if the real guy was killed and this weirdo took his place?! No... That would be ridiculous, who would want to pretend to be a mortician?
The mystery was starting to piss me off, what was so hard about just being straight up?
"We're going to go somewhere today," The man shifted the topic, "I was going to go alone but... Well, I didn't quite expect your arrival~"

Huh, a field trip?
As he moved around me, I caught a light hint of the scent of roses. He plucked a tall hat off the hat rack near the door and placed it atop his head, completing his already strange outfit.
"You can come along for the experience, little canary, but we must be quick. I have so much to do today."

Sure, whatever it took to get out of the funeral parlor.

I pulled my bag higher over my shoulder to follow him outside, although I walked a little behind to keep an eye on him.
The Undertaker didn't quite fit in with the rest of the public wearing browns and greens, now did he?
Yet as he passed, to my surprise, nobody was bothered by The Undertaker's presence. In fact, many townsfolk greet him with a smile and a wave. Did they not carry fear with them? For a man who worked with the dead, the mortician was treated with kindness and open arms.
Weird, I couldn't imagine a funeral director so connected with the neighborhood.

"Where are we going anyway?" I finally had to ask, earning a light smile from the guy,
"Oh, this will be very swift. A poor ol' tombstone collapsed in the graveyard. I just need to pick it back up and bless the grave."
"Bless the grave?" The hell did that mean? A rock fell over, so what?
The Undertaker chuckled, eyes ahead,
"It's a bad omen for those to fall, you know? Some families want to request a blessing against evil spirits when something like this happens. I would've done it sooner, but I was ever so busy."
He kept saying that, but I haven't seen him do shit yet. Was it an excuse or not?
Nevertheless, I kept my complaints short when we approached the graveyard. The walk there was otherwise quiet and uneventful, but the comfortable silence shifted to unease when my gaze fell upon the tombstones.
To just walk into the resting place of the dead...
A shiver shot down my spine, but The Undertaker just kept moving, unbothered at the idea. For real? He didn't expect me to just walk inside, did he?