The Funtom Company

30: The |Final| Company

PLEASE DO NOT SKIP THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END!!! Ty.

Adrian groaned as he stood up. Being in that position for so long trying to escape was not easy on the body. He hastily threw on his clothes and stretched as best he could. An eerie laugh echoed behind him. He turned to face the door, but all that stood there was a hooded figure with a scythe made in the shape of a skeleton.

"Am I going to die?" Adrian asked honestly. Yes, sure, that's the first thing anyone would think upon seeing the scythe. But, no, not today. 

"Whatever would make you think that?" the figure reached up and took off its hood to reveal the face. Or, rather, reflection.

"Who are you?" Adrian squinted.

"Why, don't you recognize me? I'm you," the figure stretched out his hand to point a long black nail at Adrian. Adrian stared more carefully. The hair was the same. He would give him that much, but there was something about his grin that didn't work. This couldn't be right. Adrian never looked like that. Never. 

"I'm The Undertaker," the figure bowed to introduce himself. "I'm a reaper to come take your soul. Ah, wait, no it wasn't your soul, was it? It was his. Vincent Phantomhive's soul."

"You can't have Vincent's soul!" Adrian snapped. 

"Where I come from Vincent is no longer among the living. Since yours is free for the taking, I would rather enjoy it. Please consider, you don't have much of a choice in the matter." The Undertaker laughed again. 

"I bet you come from the same world where a butler doesn't fuck his master," Adrian crossed his arms. "I'm not giving you Vincent's soul. No way, no how."

"Then why haven't you visited him in the hospital? You must know he needs a bit of a nudge in the right direction or he won't come back." The Undertaker crossed his arms. The scythe stood all on its own without him holding it. 

"And what do you know? It's not your Vincent now is it?" Adrian sighed.

"What do I know? What do I know?" The Undertaker's voice filled with rage. "My Vincent died in a manor of flames and torment! My Vincent never knew how I felt about him. To this day I don't even know if my Vincent died by his own hands or by someone else's. There wasn't a body. There wasn't even a soul! Don't you dare speak of things you don't understand. I don't care if you are me."

"I'm not you," Adrian pointed. "I would never wear that." Yes, Adrian, be concerned about the outfit. You liar. You have that same thing hidden somewhere in your occult-filled bedroom. 

"Don't kid yourself," The Undertaker frowned. "It doesn't work."

"What am I supposed to do? I can't go to him," Adrian sighed. 

"Why not? Are you really doing anything spectacular right now? I don't think so. You've been stuck in this room for how long? Vincent needs your help. Otherwise, I'm taking this opportunity to steal him from you. As I said before, I need the soul."

"Well, for one thing there isn't anything I can do."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Vincent appeared from behind The Undertaker in nothing but a towel. "Hi, Uny, fancy meeting you here. Have you come to help out the poor boy too? It's been a while, hasn't it? When was the last time I saw you?"

"Vincent?!" Both versions of Adrian said.

"I thought that was my imagination," Adrian hid his face in his hands. "Did I just let a ghost give me a blowjob? It wasn't even the right Vincent either! Damnit. Damnit!" Adrian mumbled to himself.