Her Name is Bliss

Chapter 4

"We're not in Wonderland anymore, Alice."

― Charles Manson

Ciel fidgeted. His hand hovering hesitantly above the winking knob. He felt fear breathing down his neck, dragging out a shudder. He turned around startled, only to find Sebastian looking down at him amused. Ciel glared up at his butler, "Don't stand behind me!"

Sebastian moved to his master's side, but, still, the feeling of unease remained. He restrained any further shiver and with a gulp gripped the door knob. "Do you wish me to open the door, my lord?" Sebastian said in mock worry.

"I said I would do it!" he yelled back at him and accidentally turned the knob. The door swung open, and Ciel pulled a face as his body shook with another scared shiver, "Undertaker's parlor is unsettling."

Sebastian pulled out a handkerchief and held it over his mouth and nose as they walked in. "That is saying the least," he mumbled as his eyes looked around wearily.

There was a creak off to the side, and a voice tangled itself menacingly around the creak like a snake, "Looking for prey, little stray cat? What are those eyes? Ehehehe."

Ciel froze and shivered at the sound of the laugh. The shiver slithered up his spine and rested its heavy unease upon Ciel's thin shoulders. Sebastian simply continued his inspection, before laying his eyes to rest in a glare upon the direction of the voice. From within one of the various coffins, a man stepped out with white hair and white skin and hidden eyes that oddly saw perfectly. Ciel composed himself before the colorless man and raised his chin, "Undertaker."

The man did a halfhearted, mocking, bow, "Earl, what brings you here? Nothing has reached my ears. No peculiar guests have come in either."

Ciel eyed him. The disbelief was evident in his one uncovered eye, "Are you sure about that?"

"Certainly," Undertaker replied with a wide grin.

"No guests with the wounds of a Death scythe?" Ciel strolled along brushing a finger over the dust layered jars.

"A simple new reaper is my guess. Poor fools live a most boring, horrible, life. The lives you collect out there are sometimes quite terrifying, quite miserable, and a little more than just quite maniacal. It is enough to drive even the sanest man mad." Undertaker drawled his words as he leaned nonchalantly upon his desk.

"I will take your word on that," Ciel pulled his hand away from the jars at the realization he did not know what lay within.

Undertaker perched his chin in the fold of his entwined fingers, "So, young Earl. The usual deal? I will give you all the information on whatever it is that you are seeking, in exchange for a first rate laugh."

Ciel walked over to Sebastian and stood with his back close to Sebastian. Ciel smiled at Undertaker, "No, I have my own deal."

Undertaker fell onto the desk unamused. Dust lifted up in a cloud around him, or was caught by his long hair as it tumbled into silver strands all about. "What use have I for anything that is not laughter?" he puffed air up at his bangs, but they only fell back onto their comfortable spot over his eyes.

Ciel's head dropped to one side, "I guess you don't have a use for a daughter?"

Undertaker's head raised with newfound interest, "A daughter?"

"You do not remember her?"

Undertaker only lifted his head to address Sebastian, "Kid's gone mad. He finally cracked. What lunacy does he speak of?"

Ciel lifted his cane only to bring it down with a loud thud, "Do not make a fool of me, Undertaker."

Undertaker walked around and over to Ciel. He pulled him away from Sebastian, who gave a menacing warning glare to the silver haired shadow. Undertakers draped a coat clad arm over Ciel's shoulder. He brought his lips close to Ciel's ear. Ciel struggled to not fidget or shudder. He forced himself to be brave as Undertaker's whispers dragged their claws along Ciel's neck. "You have it wrong," he whispered with the eerie smoothness of a hiss. "Demons and reapers can have children, but they fight and struggle in our world, making themselves known to one another. Besides, how could I possibly forget having a reapling of my own, when, at some point, I ran the nursery for the reaplings?"

"You did not keep the child." Ciel eyed Undertaker.

"Oh?" Undertaker's voice dripped amusement. Ciel could feel Undertaker's smile at his ear.

"Her mother died, and you abandoned your own child!" Ciel grew upset at this point.

"It is unlikely that the mere birth of a child would kill a demon or reaper. Now, had the mother been human that would be a different outcome. After all, humans are so weak and fragile. However, those half-human monstrosities do not live long either. If they have the luck to be born at all, that luck is short lived because they are killed soon after birth. Most die within the womb of their slaughtered mothers. Half human reapers are not meant to live. They are the unwanted." Undertaker's voice went low and menacing.

The outrage and disgust brought a glorious dark shade to Ciel's eyes, "Why are they not meant to live?!"

Undertaker laughed, "Why so upset, Young Earl? Where's our deal? Let's make the deal, make me laugh, get what you want, win the game like you always gloriously do."

Ciel broke away from Undertaker; his fear lost in anger, "This is not a game, Undertaker!"

Undertaker lifted an eyebrow in amusement. Not that it mattered, because his reaction was lost behind a veil of hair. But he lifted it anyway and rubbed at his chin, "I remember the young Earl loving games..."

Ciel gritted his teeth and balled his fists. Undertaker noticed this and let out a giggle, "Very well. I will tell you what you want just this once, but, next time, you must give me glorious prime laughter." He burst out in a wild cackle, before growing grimly serious, "They are meant to be dead, because they are unnatural. They are neither human nor demon nor reaper. Demons born of humans are demons, but reapers born of humans are something different. They are not living; they are not dead. They are not like us. They grow and age, but do not die. They have the ability to change their appearance, but not form. They are worms. Viruses.

Demons steal souls. Reapers collect them. Unwanted manipulate them. They worm their ways into the library of cinematic records and steal the records only to place them in dead bodies. They hunt demons, slaughter them, taking back the souls they have stolen, and giving them new life. They play with lives, souls, memories. They extend the lives of those that are meant to be dead."

Ciel shook his head and stepped back, "No... No. Once something is lost, it will never return."

Images of his dead mother and father flashed through his head. The horror and fear of the memory dancing in his eyes. Undertaker shrugged, "There is nothing wrong with wanting a loved one back. You should hold each and every soul dear, but the unwanted do not bring life for a good cause. All the unwanted do is create puppets. They are a morbid lot. They are vile beyond demons. Especially, if they hit the age of madness, where all they seek is pain. Their minds switch from anything rational to murder, deathfear, suffering, agony, pain. They feed off of it, but they are gluttonous; their hunger never satisfied."

Ciel turned to leave out the door. Undertaker only chuckled, "I take that you heard enough?"

Ciel paused, "You are telling me that you have never loved a human?"

Undertaker only smiled, "Loving a human is one of the biggest taboos. Is it not, Sebastian?"

Sebastian glared over at Undertaker, and Ciel barked back, "I do not care what you two are talking about. We are leaving. Sebastian!"

The pair walked out and left Undertaker alone amongst the coffins and jars. He walked over to a shelf and took down a skull. He held it up to his face and kept it there as he waltzed a spin to the center of the room. When he spoke, it was as if he was singing to the skull, "A daughter, eh?"