#also!!! I shall be honest I own all of Part One of Chainsaw Man because I get attached | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ta0ken · 4 years ago

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attachment – act i scene iii (4/??)

CHAPTER 3

YOU WERE IMPRESSED, and you expressed it by humming, letting out a small, low whistle. You were sitting on the rooftop, watching everything unroll in front of you. Smart, smart, you muse, pushing yourself to stand up as you dust yourself off with a sigh. Jumping off the roof, you landed in between them, casually glancing over at the Phantomhive duo.

"So, you chose to reveal yourself as well," Sebastian muses, directing his gaze onto you, "am I right, [Name]?"

Grell grins from beside you, covering her mouth as she simply states, "Well, it's not like they did any of the killings... He was simply here to observe—he doesn't run away and tells, that's just not his type!"

You only shrug in response, not confirming or denying the female's answer. "I'm only here because I'm doing my own work," you say, glancing behind you. With narrowed eyes, you turn your head to Grell, "...You made a mess, the blood's spilling everywhere."

She merely laughs in your face. "Anyway, I was quite surprised to begin with as it was the first time I had see a demon act as a butler," she remarks, leaning onto her chainsaw, holding her cheek.

"Surely that is my line. For someone like you two to be acting as butlers..." the black-haired man mutters, questioning you both, "You are supposed to be a neutral being in the balance between gods and humans; a Reaper. Why would you two, briefly like unto God, become butlers?"

A smile washes over your face. You tap your glasses, looking up in thought, humming. "Well, I...suppose you can call me a special case, considering this...isn't the first time I've...served as a butler for others," you state, looking back at the others. "Not that it...matters, but it's something."

The woman next to you grins even wider. "Indeed..." she says, agreeing with the demon's words, "Shall we say for now that I fell in love with a woman?"

A shadow casts over his face as he asks, "And that woman is?"

"You know that without even asking, don't you?"

From behind you, you could hear footsteps coming from the doorway. You can see the Earl raise his hand, grabbing at the other's hand which was covering his face. Once you can see a glimpse of his eyes, you see no light.

How dull.

"...Madam."

She only scoffs in response, lips turning up in amusement. "This was beyond my expectations," she comments, closing her eyes, "To think that there would be someone able to see Grell and [Name]'s true nature..."

"You were on the preliminary suspect list, of course, Madam," Ciel responds, glaring at her. "However, your alibi was perfect."

Madam Red's brows raise in sorrow, "You even suspected me, one of your relatives?"

"If the individual was capable of becoming 'Jack', blood relations had no bearing. It was impossible for any human on that list to be involved in all the incidents. However, if the accomplice—or rather, accomplices—were inhuman, then that would change everything." He narrows his eyes at the three of you, clenching his fists, "If they were able to get into a room within a split second without us noticing, and move from the Viscount's home to the East End in an instant, then 'Jack the Ripper' could be none other than Madam Red, Grell Sutcliffe, and [Name] [Surname]!"

You raised a brow at the insinuation that you'd bother to break the rules and deal with a certain other Grim Reaper but let the boy continue nonetheless (though, it was an idiotic assumption that you'd try and do any of that).

"Among the victims of Jack the Ripper, there were other connecting factors. They all underwent specific surgery at the Central London hospital where you work. Among the list of patients we compiled," Ciel reaches into his vest, pulling out a piece of paper, "the only one who had not been killed in that was the one living in that room, Mary Kelly. We knew that, if we loitered around here, you'd be sure to show up. Though we could not save her..."

Your eyes turn to the lady in red, taking note of her clenched fists. One wrong move and you're out.

She forces out a sigh, saying, "This is so unfortunate, Ciel, my adorable nephew. If you hadn't noticed, we would have been able to play chess again. However this time," her face shifts into a determined, angry, desperate expression, "I will not give anything up!"

The sound of something being revved up roared through the air, startling the boy as Grell swings her Scythe down towards them, only to get held up by Sebastian. He pushes her back, taking a few steps back, protectively standing in front of the Earl.

"What is that?" Ciel exclaims, looking at the object in Grell's hands incredulously.

As hilarious as it was to get accused of being a murderer, unlike the other two who were the true culprits, it wasn't amusing when you realized that this was a life or death type of situation. Being a Servant Reaper just isn't interesting. The sickle in your hand glinted within the lighting as you twirled it around your fingers,

"Reapers have a tool they use to prey on people's souls. It is the Reaper's scythe."

At those words, Grell reacts with a pout and a small tantrum, shouting, "Don't give it a lame name like 'scythe'! I took such trouble to customize it!"

You sigh, cutting them off while holding up your own Scythe, "It's...able to shred any substance that stands in its...way. However, only Grell is allowed to use that Death-Scythe... Just as I'm permitted to only use this one..." you made a motion to it, "but, it's not...generally used to kill... I believe."

The long red-head prances around, slightly messing around with the two, "I was playing nice for so long that my skills have grown rusty. It's been a while, so I want a good workout wi—" she goes from left to right with each syllable, "—th yo-u!"

You face-palm, completely done with the Reaper's antics. Sebastian seems to share your sentiments as his eyebrow twitches in irritation, a frown on his face when he politely requests, "Can you refrain from making such repulsive comments? I am in the middle of my work."

"Ah! How stoic! That part of you pushes me over the edge, too!" Grell takes a step forward, grinning, "You know, I love the colour red. Hair, clothes, even lipstick. Red if my favourite colour. That's why I gave those ugly whores a makeover with their beautiful red blood." She points her Scythe towards the demon, declaring:

"Sebastian, I'll make you into an even more appealing man. I will carve you down to your inner depths, scattering that beautiful rose-colour everywhere."

Though, when the demon turns away from him to speak to his master, you give the female an unimpressed stare.

To be honest, you weren't really supposed to fight, considering you were more on the neutral side—the only thing you did was follow the two around. But, as you look over the fight between the reaper and demon, you felt a looming feeling that you would also get an earful from the higherups.

A sigh leaves your lips, ignoring your current Mistress choking the hell out of her own nephew. What? It's not like you care about him or anything, you only care about making sure she ends up alive (hah).

In most circumstances, one could just call me a 'Guardian Angel', but I despise the angels, so... I'd rather not. Mostly because I just watch and serve under them, it's merely protection.

Which is why you were holding your scythe at the demon's throat. You look up at him, waiting for him to just attempt to kill Madam Red in front of you.

"My, Sebby, you're so daring!" Grell's voice cuts through the air, catching your attention. You direct your gaze to her, staring with cold eyes. "Even at the cost of an arm, you went to save that kid," she states and begins to walk towards the woman behind you. "Look at yourself in comparison, Madam. Hurry up and get rid of that kid!"

Your eyes narrow out of suspicion, slowly removing the scythe from Sebastion. Rather than killing him (you had no reason to do so), you pointed the sickle towards Grell. "...Are you trying to make my job harder?" you ask with a frown, "She's not allowed to die yet."

But all you could hear was sobs that wracked Madam Red's body and you can hear the tears dripping from her face that ran down like river stream, hitting the cold pavement.

"I can't," she whispers, holding her face, "I just can't. I can't kill this child."

The other's expression shifts in an instant, changing from sadistic pleasure to apathetic confusion. "What are you saying after having cut up all those women?" she gives the lady an unimpressed look, "If you don't get rid of that kid, you'll be the one who's disposed of."

"But," Madam Red turns around to face Grell, exclaiming, "this child is my...!"

The sound of flesh being torn oscillates within the cold, cold air, and you can feel something splash onto you. Rain? You touch the liquid, looking at it. It's red. A crimson red—it was blood. There was an odd ringing in your ears as you take a glance at the lady on the floor, blinking continuously.

Chest torn, eyes-wide, mouth agape, a scythe was tearing into her very being, but she couldn't do anything. It was a death-scythe. The continuous splattering of blood never stopped, continuously covering you with her own blood and you just stare. It wasn't like you cared, no, you just didn't expect a Reaper of all things to be the one to kill the very thing you were supposed to protect; to ensure there was a cap on the number of lives being taken.

"I am so disappointed, Madam Red!" Grell exclaims, chucking her body with their own scythe. "I have no interest in you if you're just like all the other women!"

And just like that, her cinematic record was put on full display. You ignore the two that were conversing, choosing to focus on the lady that was seemingly floating, but it would all be put to an end right after judgement.

From her hating the colour of her hair to loving it, it was an endless rollercoaster of hatred and adoration. You weren't sure if she liked the colour of her hair now, but she hasn't done anything to change it (you assumed that she was alright with it). At the end, where everything was going great for her, it seemed as though something had decided to give her the worst luck ever: a dead husband, a dead child, and the loss of being able to carry another—it was sad. Then again, had she not let envy get to her, would everything be different?

You crane your head toward the Reaper that you were friends with, narrowing your eyes at the individual. "...You just love making my job difficult, don't you?"

She ignores you, scoffing, "I loved you covered in the blood of others, Madam Red!" Throwing off her coat, she approaches the lady that she killed, and takes her coat. "To think you were such a ridiculous woman! I'm so disappointed," she scowls, "You have no right to wear red."

You glance at the Mistress, unblinking.

"The cheap show is now over. Goodbye, Madam." They begin to walk away, leaving you and the other two to stare after her figure.

Crouching down, you put your hands over her open, cold, dull eyes and close them, clicking your tongue in slight annoyance. You weren't angry nor filled with hatred. It's not like you had the energy to be angry either way, you were just tired.

"Sebastian, what are you doing?" Ciel asks, breaking through the silence. "I told you to hunt down Jack the Ripper. It's not over yet," he turns his head to face the demon. "Don't stand around. Get rid of the other one."

"Understood."

You give the boy a glance, inquisitively raising a brow. "...What? You aren't trying to target me either?" Sitting down on the ground, you ignore the cold water that soaked your pants, huffing a sigh through your nose.

"...I figured you wouldn't have been one of the ones to murder the prostitutes," he truthfully answers, looking onwards. He was watching the fight. "However, since I've chosen to spare your life, answer me one thing."

A confused expression glazes over your face, but you decide to humour him, "...Sure."

"How did you meet Madam Red? Aren't you like other Reapers?"

You laugh through your nose, scratching your chin, "Earl, that's two questions, but fine, I'll humour you." You can tell he was surprised that you were speaking with no pauses. "To answer the first question, I met the Madam due to her unexpectedly killing one of the clients that I was working with—I'll explain later—and then became 'contracted' to her, and so, I became a Barnett family butler. As for the second question, it's somewhat simple; I'm a Servant Reaper. A special case, if you will."

"'Servant Reaper'...?" he mutters, breaking his gaze from the fight to look over at you, narrowing his eyes. "What does that mean?"

You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. "...Well, it's basically...its name. Er, to explain the job of one though, is that we're supposed to ensure that not many humans die since it's getting a bit too much for the Retrieval Division, but I digress... If I continue speaking about this, I'm sure I'll get in trouble," you sigh, frowning.

"In trouble? By whom?"

Amused by the number of questions you were being asked, you merely smile, "Earl, that's more than one—" You look up to see Grell falling towards you both, screaming something incoherent, only for her to get kicked away by the demon.

"I apologise. I misjudged the distance."

"Should've kicked her more," you dryly commented, standing up.

Sebastian chuckled. "Perhaps." He turns his head to the red-head, smiling, "My, that's a Reaper for you. I suppose you would not die from blows alone. Well then," he approaches her, grabbing the scythe in the process, "how about this? A Reaper's scythe is able to cut through anything, which means...it should be able to cut through you, right?"

"Wh-What are you thinking? Sto—" she tries to crawl away, stammering and spluttering all the way, "Stop—!" She got shoved to the floor, Sebastian stepping on her harshly.

You raised a brow at the pure sadistic enjoyment that was radiating from the demon, hand holding the sickle with a bored expression. If he kills her, it'll be bad for the two of them...

Actually, Sebastian even expressed your thoughts by warning the Earl, only to get told: "Are you trying to make me give the same order twice?" You look away when Grell calls out to you, crying out weakly for help but you only sweat-drop, thinking, is it not your fault that this happened...? Ah, well...

Just before Sebastian could deal the final blow to the Reaper, something had stopped it. You gaze at the garden shears with a blank look before you came to a realization of who it belonged to.

"Wi—"

"Forgive me for interrupting you mid-conversation," he says unapologetically, his shears going back to its original length. "I am one of the supervisors of the Reaper Dispatch Organisation, William T. Spears. I have come to take that Reaper back." You shudder at the sight of him, shivers going down your spine as you grimace, seeing his dull eyes.

"Will! William!" Grell exclaims out of relief, seeing the other Reaper jump down, "You came to save m—" her head was instantly smashed into the ground.

He takes out his book, reading something. "Dispatcher Grell Sutcliffe, you have committed several regulation violations. First, the eliminations of those not on the Candidate List. Next, the use of a non-sanctioned death-scythe. And finally, the disclosure of information pertaining to lives and the circumstances of death of the aforementioned departed."

You turn your head, sweating profusely as the sight of him looking at you. In an instant, you felt something sharp being held towards your neck, and you sweat-drop.

"Dispatcher [Name] [Surname], you have failed to protect your contractors many times, therefore, you will need a new contractor; usually, it is the person who you've been entrusted with, but considering the circumstances," he glances at the dead woman on the floor, "that rule does not apply here. Instead..." William sighs, pushing up his glasses with his free hand, "you will be contracted with the boy next to you."

"Ah, okay..." you nod your head, tearing your gaze away. Wait. You look back at him, almost getting whiplash, "Wait, what—"

He nods, poking your neck, "That is correct, you will be contracted with him."

You lifted your chin, avoiding the sharp blade with narrowed eyes. After a few more minutes of him and Sebastian 'conversing' (it was literally just William expressing his dislike for demons and Sebastian expressing his dislikes with Reapers), the Reaper finally retracted his scythe from your neck, allowing you to breathe.

"Well then, we shall return, Grell Sutcliffe." William starts to drag Grell away by the hair, slightly complaining, "My goodness, at a time when we're already short-handed, once again, I won't get to leave today. Of course, the director will scold us anyway. If I keep having to do overtime like this—"

Sebastian throws the scythe in his hand, smiling, "You forgot that."

The Reaper catches it with his index and middle fingers, "Thank you." Dropping it onto the already beaten up Grell, he states, "Well then, excuse us."

You ignore whatever happens next, too focused on the fact that you were contracted to Ciel Phantomhive who was contracted to a demon. Could you even talk to the director about this? You weren't sure but you sure as hell weren't happy with what you've got. You glance over at the two, seeing how the Earl wasn't looking too well.

Then again, his aunt just died, you muse, looking over at the corpse with dead eyes, in front of him, too. Too caught up in your thoughts, you don't realize that Ciel was in front of you.

When he snaps his fingers in front of your face, you blink.

"[Name], as of now, you are contracted to me," he states firmly, "Meaning, you are now a servant of Phantomhive until I die or under any other circumstances."

"...That is true," you said, nodding. "And? What's my position then?"

Ciel looks over at Sebastian, who nods his head. "You are to be a helper under Sebastian, think of it as a someone who's interning under someone."

You only shrug. "I have no qualms about the position."

"Very well. It is nice to have you aboard."

✧✧✧

You stand outside of the church, gazing up at the sky. How bright despite the circumstances, you think, watching the roses fall over the dead body of the lady you once served.

It was quite mesmerizing(ly sad).

Though, you do remember one order you were given right off the bat (and one you could do): to pretend as though you were grief-stricken to the point you'd lash out at anyone—not really anyone, but you got the point.

It wouldn't make sense if you continue your life as though nothing had happened. But, then again, humans die and you can't do anything about that—it's the revolution of human life, unlike you.

So, it's only natural for you to no longer care.

Humans are weird.

𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥.

#black butler #xreader #yuureoo

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