Hospital For Souls (M i c h a e l i s) [Kuroshitsuji 3]{Completed}

Chapter XIII : The Undertaker's Wife

Are we alone, are we in control?

Can we choose to play a different role?

Can we change our fate?

It was so odd, getting used to this new body.

Because it was new; even though the majority of myself had been almost perfectly preserved, there had still been places that I had been damaged, from different pests, rodents. My ribs had been rotting away, he'd told me, and he was so sad, because he had loved my waist. He had loved every part of me.

He loved his girls, too. He didn't like having to use them to patch me up, taking parts from them. Leaving gaping holes in the flesh, unfinished.

Of course, Undertaker would never touch Grace.

Grace, the poor, demented girl, she was so sweet. I remembered waking up, the initial shock, Undertaker's beautiful face above me. The tears, the sheer, overwhelming love, the pain in my heart at seeing such lines of grief etched into his features. The soft, yet somehow frenzied kisses. And then, there was a noise behind the pair of us, a tiny figure sending something clattering noisily to the ground.

I jumped, startled; Undertaker remained perfectly still. Clearing his throat, he turned his head about a milimeter.

"Grace, darling," he said mildly, "Come meet my wonderful Charlotte."

The pale shadow slunk forward, her head bowed. Even though her skin seemed to be almost hanging off her arms in ribbons, her dress bloodied, she had the most gorgeous hair; like spun copper and gold, in thick curls that framed her heart-shaped face perfectly. And her grey eyes were dead.

"Violet?" She mumbled, and Undertaker shook his head, speaking a little louder.

"Charlotte. Yes. That's it, good girl."

"Violet," this Grace said, walking over to my side. What a bizarre creature!

She picked up my hand and began to examine it, incredibly gentle. For some reason, I had been afraid of her, until she touched me and drew all of that fear away.

"Pretty."

"Isn't she?" Undertaker sounded proud. He gave Grace's arm a little pat. "Charlotte is going to be living with us, now."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Now, what have I told you about scratching at yourself?"

"Bad for me."

"Bad for you, yes. I shall have to bandage you up when I am not so busy."

"Adrian, do you need help?" I asked quietly. Undertaker shook his head almost straight away.

"No, you mustn't strain yourself, my love."

"I want to help you," I protested, shaking my head; the action was slow, making me feel dizzy. "Please. I can stay right here. Five minutes, is all. Do you have someone to work on?"

"Yes," he sighed, pushing his black nails back through his sooty locks. "Christ, the bodies are piling up, nowadays. Thanks to that wretched boy-earl and his butler, they're dropping like flies."

"Ciel Phantomhive is still alive?" I blinked in surprise. Undertaker had long ago confided in me that he had sold his soul to the demon Michaelis.

"Yes, but I plan to change that soon," he said grimly. "Grace, come. Charlotte is going to take care of your pretty little arms."