𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖔𝖓: 𝕮𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖙

Escape From Hell

Y/N waited for hours for the Undertaker to return. No matter how heavy her eyes felt, she didn't let herself slip into slumber. If that sickly bastard came back down those cursed stairs and opened that door, she would be ready for him. But he never came back. Although her sense of time was more than distorted and minutes felt like hours and hours felt like seconds, she had to assume it was night. The Undertaker must've gone to sleep, or if Y/N was extremely lucky, he had left indefinitely for whatever reason. Either way, whether he was at the market or fast asleep, this was Y/N's chance. She slowed her breathing down as much as she could and made as little noise as physically possible. It got to the point where she couldn't even hear her own heart beat.

There was nothing. Her chains were silent, not singing their cursed song, and there was no noise coming from outside the basement door. There wasn't even the sound of birdsong flowing in from a window that might be next to the basement's entrance. Either the Undertaker was sleeping so soundly not even a sore escaped him, or the house was empty. Y/N knew this was a chance she might never get again. He could come to kill her in the next hour, or she might not see him when she ran out that door, refusing to look behind her. If she was going to escape it was now.

Y/N moved as silently as she could, her chains barely rattling as she pulled against them. The shackles around her wrists were tight, bunching up the skin and flesh around her bones. Y/N stopped tugging at the shackles with a huff as she looked around. The chains were tight, but perhaps they would come right off if she could just make the iron slippery, like removing a ring that was stuck on her finger. But there was nothing for her to use. The floor was covered in dirt and grime, same with the walls. What little moisture there was was barely enough to coat the tips of her fingers, much less her wrists and ankles. And there was no water for her to drink much less to dip her hands and feet in.

"I could go home," she thought. The Undertaker couldn't follow her there. In fact, he had no idea she could jump between dimensions. If she went home and stayed home, he would never be able to touch her again. "But what would they think? How worried would they be?" Y/N was increasingly worse off than she had been last time her family and friends had seen her, and she looked gaunt, dehydrated and malnourished on top of that. If they saw her looking like this, or more likely they smelled her first, what would they think happened? Last time they had seen her she appeared to be her normal self. Now they could easily see she hadn't eaten in days, her eyes were sunken in along with her cheeks and she looked like Death itself had sculpted her features. They would know something was wrong in an instant, possibly landing Y/N in a hospital.

That might not have been a bad thing, though, she argued with herself. She was horribly malnourished and dehydrated, if she was sent instantly to a hospital she would be hooked up to I.V.s and feeding tubes. "But would I live long enough if I went back?" The steam pouring out of her mouth and nose told Y/N that she should be dead by now. Her body was healing itself as best as it could to keep her alive, and was doing so just barely enough as her starvation and dehydration fought against it. If she jumped dimensions, her body would stop healing itself but she would still be starving. If she jumped, there was a possibility she would die the second her soul crossed from the Black Butler dimension to her own. "Or, I might not starve at all," Y/N realized. Sebastian had said that at night her soul was drifting, but not her body. Maybe it was just her soul that crossed dimensions! After all, she could only heal magically in one dimension, and she had never tried crossing over with an injury simply because she had never thought to. There was a chance that if she jumped dimensions that she would wake up in her original body completely fine.

"But my nightgown," Y/N remembered. When the Undertaker originally brought her soul over, her hoodie and shorts had come with it. And later that night, when she fell asleep in the Dozy Dog's loft, she woke up in her own bed with the nightgown from Alice. She had also taken objects back and forth between dimensions, like that towel she had cleaned for Ciel when they were at the circus. "So does my body also go with me? Or do I just take things back and forth?" Y/N's head already hurt enough from the malnourishment and her lack of sleep, thinking about such insanity only made her head ache more. It didn't make sense, but then again when had it ever?