A Twist of Fate: A Grell x Sebastian Love Story.| (ON HOLD)

The Shimegami, Until Death Do Us Part

The Undertaker's P.O.V

There were no tears.
No words.
No screams.
Nothing but electricity and anger  as the tip of the scythe finally gave in and in its lust for blood pierced his flesh, digging in deeper and deeper until it struck through. Struck through the throat of the Shimegami and into that of the child.
Why didn't they listen?
Why didn't anybody listen to him? Not Vincent nor Ciel, not even his human lover who had been dead for centuries.
WHY?
All the bloody knowledge in his mind didn't matter if it couldn't do anything. If it couldn't change anything. And believe him, he had tried using that knowledge to change the past, present and future and all that had gotten him was in the rusted cells of the Shimegami Detention Facility.
Fuck it all.
No one listened. No one cared and he was tired of watching everything burn. Literally.
The stubbornness in Grell's gaze didn't change as he defended that creature. Even after the Undertaker had revealed his new found knowledge to him. Knowledge that he literally had to scrape off the decayed flesh of humans along with their decayed fragments of souls, carelessly left behind.
Idiots.
If you were going to do something. At least do it flawlessly.
Grell was adamant on protecting the little monster, the same way he had once strived to
protect Sebastian and looked how that turned out. It didn't matter how strong he became or how rigid his will was. If he could see then the Undertaker would make him. Even if it meant killing him regardless of his love for the once eccentric soul. It was the only way that ensured the death of the child named T-O.
If Grell wanted to live then he could always just move. That was if he understood what was happening fast enough.
The Undertaker was not going to let that memory tormented demon destroy the world that his best friend had fought to protect despite adversity, even if it meant staining his hands red. He would not let everything Vincent Phantomhive did go up in ashes along with his body and bones. Never. He loved the man too much to aimlessly sit by.
The blood trickled slow, bright and red just like his hair and for some reason it surprised him after all the lives he had taken, after all the bodies he had ripped apart. He had never seen a color so beautiful in all his years. It pained him to see those bright lime green eyes grow wide, to hear the choking noise of blood belching up his throat and exiting his lips. 
And there was nothing.
Horrible choking sounds replaced by silence. A sound so raw that it made the Undertaker cringe. He had done this. He had no right to cringe. None at All.
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Sebastian's P.O.V

He screamed.
A wretched sound that shocked not only his mistress but the half dead body of William T. Spears. The claws which he had so leisurely hooked into the Shimegami loosened and sank into his own body. There was a thud as William's body fell from the little mistress's lips and unto the ground, his blood tainting plush white carpets.
The butler's body crumpled as his knees crumpled and gave out under him. His composed face, glittered with a haunting smile was replaced by one with horror as he clawed at his face. Blood trickled from his self inflicted wounds as he screamed again.
A pain shook his body to its core, it's source unknown but all he knew that something had changed.
Something or someone was gone.
And in that moment all he could think of was Grell and that he was dead.
And at those horrible thoughts he screeched harder, black eyes flashing a shade of auburn never seen before as darkness flooded his vision.
Grell couldn't dead.
He couldn't. He wasn't. He refused to believe such a horrendous thing.
But then what would cause this pain wringing his heart to its core? What?
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Grell's P.O.V

It was sudden.
Like the way Sebastian smiled. A fleeting mannerism where pale lips, scrunched into a firm line tilted upwards and suddenly there was a tint of color upon stiff lips. Or the way William laughed, out of nowhere. A hard, eye watering sound that was uncharacteristic for the stoic man. Or the way his mother called his name while reaching out with bony fingers to push back the wild strands of rusty red hair that framed a heart shaped face. Something he had inherited from her along with rosey skin.
It was sudden.
The feel of the blade lunging forward and piercing his throat. The pain as he scythe twisted and turned once it had squelched into the body of T-O and then was abruptly pulled downwards into his heart. Pathetic.
He was pathetic.
He couldn't save T-O.
And after all this time he couldn't save himself. This time was different though. There was no Sebastian rushing forward with outstretched hands to save him.
This was it.
This was the end.
It was somehow fitting though.
The suddenness of it all.
The suddenness of the death, and of the corpse that was Grell Sutcliff.

To My Beloved Readers:
Merry Christmas 😊
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I loves you all and wishes you a beloved Christmas to you and your families. Have fun and stay safe.