The Funtom Company

10: The |Dispatch| Company

Vincent Phantomhive sat tied to a chair in a room he didn't recognize. Well, this was new. No one had ever tried kidnapping him before. This should be fun. His eyes adjusted to the lighting. He looked left and he looked right. Still dark. Still dreary. Where was this place anyway? He listened to the sound outside the walls. Nothing. They must still be at the school. Was this a supplies closet? He did smell the faintness of bleach, among other things.

"You're awake? How nice," a figure appeared in the shadows. Its eyes glowing a shade of greenish yellow. The sight reminded Vincent of a cat. Not a moment later and bright lights turned on. Vincent cringed. If his hands weren't tied behind his back, this encounter might be a bit more interesting. They had tied his feet to the chair as well. This wasn't your standard kidnapping. This was planed. Premeditated. They thought this out. That could only mean one thing: this was Dispatch Society.

"Don't you think this is a bit unfair?" Vincent allowed his eyes to adjust to the brightness that was so rudely thrust upon him. "I'm sitting here partially unclothed while you lot are staring at me. Don't make me blush." The only piece of clothing lacking on Vincent's body was his vest. He wore the thing everywhere. That or his coat. But, the vest was a bit more comforting. The lack of it combined with the fact that some of his shirt was unbuttoned made him uneasy. He didn't like this one bit, not that he was supposed to.

"It's just a formality," the shadow stepped into the light. Vincent's eyes still couldn't get a good look at him. They were confused about if they should adjust to the light or attempt to see in the darkness. This was part of the plan, no doubt. "It's nothing personal, I assure you, but it's also completely personal," the male said. His eyes traveled along Vincent's body. He was enjoying the view. Vincent aimed to please. He just wished he could see the male a bit better.

"Are you going to tell me why I'm here? Or should I be left guessing?"

"It'll be more fun if you guess. Would you like a prize if you guess correctly?" the male snickered. "The prize is your life, of course." Vincent wasn't sure if the male was serious or not. He didn't want to find out. Perhaps he should try a different line of questioning. The stranger took this silence as an opportunity.

"Good, now that we are on the same page. I assume you won't be giving me any trouble, right?" The two other individuals in the room laughed. The man was tied to a chair. What could he possibly do? They clearly underestimated the skills of Vincent Phantomhive. He was used to that.

"Me? Give you trouble? While tied to a chair? Dear me, what kind of person do you think I am?" Vincent chuckled. "I'm a civilized gangster. Be real here, I know where I stand...or sit, actually," Vincent looked down at the chair briefly. It was wooden. It was easily breakable. He would take that into account as he plotted his escape. That is, if he couldn't untie these ropes.

The man snapped his fingers. All individuals in the room left. Once the door was closed and everyone was gone, business was to be discussed. "I'm sure you know who I am," the male said, "They call me 'Undertaker.'"

"They call you their leader," Vincent corrected. "Do you think they are far enough away by now? Will you untie me? Surely we can talk like normal humans," Vincent attempted.

The opposing leader laughed, "Don't think you can fool me that easily. I know your type."

"You don't know a thing about me," Vincent stood up. He kicked the ropes off of his feet and let the ropes around his wrists fall. "If you had, you wouldn't have tied the knot so loosely," Vincent smiled. He took a step forward. The other took a step back until there were no more steps to take. Vincent placed his hand on the wall beside his silver haired foe.

"Let's make this a bit more fun, shall we? Why don't we form a mutually beneficial relationship?" Vincent offered as he brought his face closer to those lips.

"You're living in a dreamworld if you think that's possible."

"You're living in a dreamworld if you think it's impossible."

"I find the offer intriguing," he glanced at Vincent's lips. "But two gangs on opposite sides of the spectrum cannot merge and form one gang. That would lead to too much conflict between the already existing members. A fusion isn't practical."

"No, maybe not, but we could still birth a new gang together," Vincent's breath mingled with his opponent's too long. He was starting to almost wish the two could be together. Maybe under different circumstances it would happen.

"Not going to happen. Not now. Not ever," he promised. "This was a warning, Vincent. We won't be so nice next time. Stay out of our business and we will stay out of yours."

"Think of the children, darling. They won't like the sound of that," Vincent desperately wanted to kiss this man. He wanted to fuck him right here and there. But, he chose not to. He took a step back. He gave the guy some space. They went about their business completely civilized. All according to plan. The remaining discussion was purely professional.

That was all Adrian remembered about his current boss. He tried to think of other scenes, other times the two might've crossed paths. But everything was blurry. He was a bit too good at blocking out those years in his life. Perhaps that wasn't a bad thing. Perhaps it was. He wouldn't know.