The Midnight Masquerade

Dead Men Tell No Tales

The smell of ammonia filled the air. Vibrant green eyes blinked open as Cassandra woke up. Her wavy platinum hair moved slightly from her shoulders as she sat up, stretching her arms. She blinked, looking around her room trying to adjust to the sunlight in the dark colored room, but everything was blurry. She never could see well ever since she was little from what she can recall. Cassandra reached over to her nightstand, picking up her glasses and putting them on. There were various dolls and stuffed animals, such as teddy bears but most were rabbits, sitting on the shelves. A few stuffed rabbits were made by the Funtom Corp, had an eye patch and were dressed in suits and top hats while some had different colored dresses.

Cassandra got up and started to make up the bed and put on her work clothes to get ready for today. She pulled out a long black dress from the closest that reached her knees and dark stockings and shoes. Her friend must be up already. Cassandra stepped out of her room. There were many jars on the shelves filled with organs and body parts and chemicals. Sitting on the corners of the room were some candles and skulls and cobwebs on the ceiling. Lined up on the walls were many coffins ranging from large to child size. In front of her was a person lying on the table, dead. As Cassandra walked over to look, she saw that it was a woman probably almost around her age. Her body was covered head to toe in stitching as she was sewed up. Her skin was pale and cold to touch. But where was her friend?

"Hey, where are you?" Cassandra called out to them but received no response. Cassandra looked around the room, wondering where her friend was until she saw a coffin that was slightly opened. She quietly walked over to it and placed her hand on the lid. The lid flipped open with a loud bang. Cassandra stood still, smiling a little, as she saw the face almost close to hers, giggling. A man with long grey hair and long bangs, covering his eyes. There were also scars on parts of his body. One on his finger, another around his neck and half a scar on the right side of his cheek, heading up to his covered face. He was wearing a mortician outfit, heeled boots, and a dark top hat that had a long ribbon hanging off of it. The Undertaker.

"About time you woke up? Did I scare you?" The Undertaker laughed, giggling some more.

"That trick might have worked when I was younger, but, no, you didn't. Nice try, though." Cassandra smiled.

"You're no fun, Cassie. I love to hear that lovely scream of yours." The Undertaker whining a little. Cassandra ignored him and walked over to the table.

"So, who's the latest victim?" Cassandra pointed out. Undertaker walked over, standing beside her.

"Such a pretty thing. Unfortunately, she came to an untimely end. She was found in the streets, completely hacked up to pieces. But I managed to put her back to together again!" The Undertaker smiled.

"Hacked to pieces? Don't tell me Jack the Ripper did this...This is happening a lot lately. The poor thing." Cassandra frowned, looking down at the woman, sadly.

"That is why I must ask you. I want you to be careful on your walks." The Undertaker told her.

"I'll be fine-" Cassandra spoke before she gasped when a hand was placed on her cheek. Her eyes blinked wide, blushing a little, as she felt the cold hand of the Undertaker's. His expression had a stern look but still had a small smile.

"I know. But promise me that you will be careful." He told her. "I can't always be around to protect you. I promised your father before his death that I would look after you. You are precious to me, and I can't lose you. I won't have anyone take you away from me."

"I-I promise." Cassandra swallowed. The Undertaker pulled back his hand and grinned widely.

"Now off with you. Go and have your fun and I'll finishing preparing for this woman's funeral." He told her. Cassandra blinked and walked away and looked back at the Undertaker one last time and left the shop.

After a while of walking in the streets, Cassandra noticed the sun was starting to go down. Maybe it was time to head back. From the news, Jack the Ripper only strikes at night. The streets were dangerous during that time. As she turned around the corner to head back to the Undertakers, Cassandra bumped into someone. It was a young man.

"Oof!" Cassandra stumped back, almost losing her balance. The man fell back landing on his butt, dropping some boxes, that sounded like had some fragile items in them as they crashed to the ground. His round rimmed glasses fell off from his face landing on the ground. He quickly scrambled around on the ground trying to find them.

"I'm terribly sorry! I didn't see you!" He sputtered, frantically, still looking for his glasses, while trying to pick up the boxes as well. Cassandra got a better look at him. He was kind of handsome she had to admit. He had green eyes, long brown hair tied up with a red ribbon, in a ponytail. He was also wearing a butler's uniform underneath a dark coat, a red and white striped ribbon tied around his neck, and white gloves.

"What are you apologizing for? I was the one who wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into you." Cassandra bent down and picked up the glasses that were lying near her feet and walked over to him. "Here." She handed him his glasses and he took them from her, putting them back on.

"Thank you." The man blinked and paused, looking at Cassandra, staring at her. He was completely awestruck by her beauty. Who was she? Cassandra quickly moved away from him and began to help pick up the boxes from the ground.

"So where are you headed?" She asked him.

"The Phantomhive Manor. I was picking up a delivery for my mistress and meet her there." He told her and picked up some of the boxes.

"I can help you take them there, if you want. There are a lot to carry and some of them sound broken. I can explain to them that it was my fault, so you won't get in trouble. I sort of know the Phantomhives, considering they are our regular clients."

"Your clients? What sort of business do you do?" He asked her.

"Well, I don't run it. My friend does. He works in a morgue, you know, dead bodies and such." She told him. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"

"My name is Grell Sutcliffe." He told her, nervously, before he quickly bowed a little. "What is yours?"

"I'm Cassandra. Cassandra Gravesfield." She told him.

"That's a pretty name." He told her.

"Thanks." She smiled.

The two walked carrying the box as they headed over to the Phantomhives mansion.