"Why must she come along?" Madam Red asked with a pedicured finger in your direction.

Ciel, busy being redressed in his coat and hat, responded incredulously, "Why should she not?"

Red shared a look with Sebastian, the way one would with a brat's parent, "Because, my dear boy, she is a maid. What business does a maid have in observing a crime scene?"

Said dear boy looked back at his aunt and shrugged, "She will do as I tell her. I am telling her to come along."

Trying to diffuse the tension, Lau spoke up, "Is the saying not 'the more the merrier'?

The three of them piled into the carriage before Sebastian helped you into the shotgun seat. Grell stood on the foot pedals at the back of the carriage, holding on to the rails with whitened knuckles as the stagecoach lurched forward.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

"Clear the area! No civilian access through this way- 'ey- you! I said t'get away from there!" You could hear through the mumbling crowd. Sebastian's presence alone was enough to clear a path through the throng of onlookers, all grace and intention behind each step.

A bumbling cop pushed his way into the path of the demon, shrinking back a little in his resolve before puffing out his chest, "Wha- 'ey I jus'said ta'stay back-"

Sebastian levelled him with a flat glare, turning to present his master who emerged from behind him.

"Having trouble over here, newbie?" A tall gentleman, with a lacklustre copper moustache that curled into his lip, appeared before the group.

The stranger looked down at Ciel, the tilt of his head casting a shadow under the brim of his hat, his appearance stern, "A crime scene is not a playground. I suggest you turn the other way."

Without room for pause, the young Earl puts a hand up, silencing the man, "I'm here to inspect the body."

"The body?" The stranger squinted, his eyebrows knitted together in a look that could be construed as concern, "Surely you jest, boy."

"Abberline," came a voice from the depths of the alley and when you looked, it was a familiar face. "Well, if it isn't Lord Phantomhive," Arthur Randall began, stepping out from the shadows with a scowl on both his face and his voice, "what are you doing here." It came as less of a question and more a sarcastic remark. He knew quite well what the lot of you were there for and, given his tone, was not happy about it.

As interesting as a full grown man's disdain for a child was, you found yourself staring back at the other two gentlemen who had appeared before. You were certain that the younger of the two was Abberline, the detective that would appear a few times during the series, the older man was probably just some background character.

Abberline ran off to control the crowd again and so your focus returned to the conversation, "You know who sent me, of course." Ciel smirked as he produced that letter with the Queen's seal. Arthur's frown deepened and his jaw clenched.

The other man looked to his superior then back at Ciel who's hand was outstretched, "Abberline, was it?" He wasn't looking for an answer, "Hand me those documents in your pocket." He was commanding cooperation.

But he was wrong, that wasn't Abberline. It couldn't be, could it?

Arthur huffed and nodded, "Give him the papers, Abberline." he urged reluctantly.

Wait, you were wrong? This near 50 year old looking man was the same Abberline that appeared in the show? Sure, the dull copper hair was correct but he was old, far older than he was in black butler.

You mumbled a quiet, "You're Abberline?" which only Sebastian turned to acknowledge. You had a feeling you would be questioned about that later.

"It seems you have yet to find any major clues yet." the boy concluded after skimming the documents. He shuffled to the first page again before the report was snatched from him.

"We at Scotland Yard are more than capable of handling this case, I assure you," Arthur began with a firm grip on the documents, "There is no need for you to interfere."

Ciel looked up from beneath the brim of his hat, smug, "Splendid. Shall we go?"

Once the group had made it to the uncrowded street Madam Red uncrossed her arms, "Now what, dear?" You couldn't get a read on the emotion in her voice. It sounded fake, like she was trying to sound concerned and yet was glad there was no information found. Of course, you knew why that would be which made it all the more awkward to be standing beside Grell.

"Now we go see someone who may prove useful."

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

The carriage stopped at an all too familiar place, the place that greeted your fall into this world. You shared a look with Sebastian as he helped you down from your seat, discomfort set into your face. While you were happy to see the Undertaker again it was the copious amounts of dead bodies in caskets that kept you glued to the sidewalk.

Lau was the last to exit the coach and upon setting foot on the cobblestones he opened his mouth, "So, where are we?"

Peeved, Red retorted, "Can you not read you foolish man?"

"It is a funeral parlour run by an acquaintance of my lord's." Sebastian supplied. He held open the door as the others made their way inside, Ciel saying something you couldn't quite parse through the thrumming in your head.

You hesitated to enter, biting your lip and focusing on the intricate details of the butler's coat buttons. Anything but the bodies, the many bodies in the shop.

Sebastian tilted his head, "Would you prefer to stay out here?"

You considered it, especially as the smell of stale air and dog biscuits assaulted your nose. Ultimately though, you figured it would be better in there with the rest of the group than outside alone. You could always turn away when the Undertaker showed off a victim.

As soon as you stepped past the doors you could hear a crackling chuckle. "I bid ye welcome, lord Earl," the voice echoed unnaturally in such a cramped space, "I thought I'd be seeing y' before long."

As eerie as the voice was, it was significantly less scary knowing it was the just undertaker trying to scare everyone. After all, that was the same man who had helped you in the beginning and who had believed you so readily as you gushed nonsense in a panic.

"Milord, it's so lovely to see you." He continued, sliding the lid off of an upright coffin to reveal himself. Much to the horror of Madam Red, Grell and Lau. "Do I finally have the pleasure of fitting y' for one of me coffins t'day?"

Ciel did not dignify the reaper's question with a response, "You know what I'm here for."

Undertaker stepped out of the coffin with a grin, the sheer width of it rippling his skin in a way that looked utterly painful. "I am very aware, one of me recent custom'as was a bit unusual, shall we say." He brought his long, splintered black nails up to dig into the creased skin of his cheeks, "I helped though, made her looked beau'iful again."

The young boy's neutral expression remained, no doubt used to the strange mannerisms of the undertaker. "I would like the details, please." Though there was something in the way he spoke that portrayed a sense of unease. He was quieter than usual, still commanding in a way that all the other nobles you'd met were, and yet that small polite request tacked on to the end of his sentence had felt somewhat out of character. Why was he asking when all he'd done thus far was demand?

"You want to hear about the victims of Jack The Ripper, yes?" the grim man hissed out the sentence."Th' yard is startin' to get their knickers in a bunch 'bout it now but..." It was like he was creating suspense as he looked around the room, his eyes lingering for but a moment on Grell and Madam Red, "This isn't the first time I've 'ad one of 'is victims come to me in such a state."

"And what state would that be?" The Madam asked with her arms perpetually glued around her torso.

"In the past there 'ave been many cases involvin' murdered whores, howev'a their intensity and cruelty continues ta escalate." You fought hard to keep your gaze away from the ones whom you knew were responsible for such brutality. "Th' yard failed to notice, for the murders were not terribly bloody from th' outset... but all the prostitutes killed in whitechapel had a little something in common."

With interest piqued, Ciel asked what exactly it was that the victims had in common.

"Whateva' could it be..." he trailed off spit already pooling in the corners of his mouth, "Wouldn't y'like to know?" The boy pursed his lips.

"I see now, so the funeral parlour and being an undertaker is a facade for normal society." Lau said, like he could claim some sort of wisdom by the discovery, "How much do you charge for the information?"

The undertaker's attention turned to the man, "How much?" Then with movement like a serpent, head first body to follow, he appeared before him. A towering presence. "I 'ave no need for th'queen's coin. There's only one thing tha' I want as payment."

Lau stepped back with a cautious leer in his eyes.

The reaper slithered in front of Ciel, Sebastian and yourself. "Now milord, give it to me, bestow upon me th' gift of laughter."

"Lunatic..." the boy muttered, "Very well, Sebast-"

"Allow me, Lord Earl." Lau interjected, looking almost excited for the challenge. "I'm known to be quite the joker at parties, you see?" he remarked boastfully, raising a hand to his chest with the other outstretched, "There was a man who went out wearing a cotton hat on dog days," Well, It certainly wasn't the joke he'd told in the series, "The heat was unbearable and so he sat underneath a large tree and used his hat as a fan. After fanning himself, he said to others; 'thankfully I had this hat, otherwise I would have died from the heat!'." But the comedic timing was just as poor as the original.

There was a pause as he awaited laughter. "Get it? You see, it was the cotton hat that was making the heat unbearable!" Having to explain the joke made it irredeemable.

Red stepped forward to have her turn, "That joke could never do! If you want something truly worth a laugh, I have quite the piece of gossip!"

You couldn't even focus on what she was saying, it was all he said, she said. Not long into her ramblings, the undertaker looked away in boredom and the lady deflated.

"Now, that leaves only you, milord." He turned his head in your direction with a smirk, "Which servant 'a yours will you have pay me? I be curious to know what [Y/N] would tell as a joke."

All eyes fell on you for different reasons, you guessed that the three at the other side of the room were more curious about how the undertaker knew your name. "I'm ah- I can't think of anything right now," you tried, hoping that would suffice.

The reaper's smirk didn't budge, instead he turned to look at the Earl's butler, "Well then, master butler, It appears you are left with th' bill."

"It would seem there's no helping it." Sebastian adjusted the hem of his gloves, "I suppose it would be inappropriate to make the five of you wait outside. I do, however, request that you do not try to hear what I am about to say."

With that announcement, he stood before Undertaker and leant over with his hand up by his mouth so he could whisper. Then, after several quiet seconds, the Undertaker's mouth split into a spine-chilling, teeth-baring smile as he burst into laughter, curling in on himself with his hands around his stomach.

"I-I'll tell ye anythin' y'wish," he sputtered between wracking laughter.

Okay, you needed to know what that joke was, a reaction like that had to mean it was some top tier comedy.

After he had composed himself, the undertaker moved over to a coffin at the same time Sebastian moved to stand in front of you. Blocking your view, which you silently thanked him for.

"Th' clients I receive from this rippa 'ave quite a significant organ taken from 'em," You heard shuffling and then a thump, imagining it to be a heavy sack of potatoes helped to quell your nausea, "I noticed it as I was examinin' the bodies."

"Lacking an organ you say?" repeated Lau, whom you could almost imagine had a hand on his chin from his tone alone, "So the killer is some kind of Loan shark?"

There was a huff, "You lot think up th' most disturbin' things!"

After a moment of shuffling Sebastian moved from in front of you just as you could see the undertaker closing the lid of a coffin. "No, y'see, it is somethin' only these prostitutes could poses, somethin' only a female could poses."

"Quit the theatrics, Undertaker." Ciel commanded with the roll of his eye.

The reaper chuckled and sat atop his desk, plucking a treat from the glass jar to his side, "Always so eager to spoil other's fun." He ate the biscuit with an open mouth, it turning to paste as it caked his gums, "Each 'a the victims was missin' her uterus."

You heard an exhale of surprise as the baroness covered her mouth, her other arm still clutching her stomach.

"Even with few passers by, committing a murder on the street... Moreover, in the dead of night, would it not be difficult for an amateur to cut out the womb with such precision?" queried the butler, hardly making it subtle that he knew more than he should have.

Undertake stood up the crumbs on his robe falling to the floor, "Quite th' bright candle, aren't we, butler?" He stepped into the middle of the room, "I meself, have considered that possibili'y." He moved behind you and you stood still, the hairs on the back of your neck standing too as the smell of death filled your senses.

"Let's see, If I were this 'Jack', first I would take somethin' sharp and slash th' throat." As he spoke, one hand came around to your throat, just barely touching you. You flinched. "Then cut right here." he drawled the 'i', the sounds of it scraping at your eardrum. His other hand came to just barely scratch at your torso, "The evidence points to this bein' a professional. Not only that, but someone belongin' to th' underworld." If you turned your head, you would have seen his profile as he leaned over your shoulder.

Ciel looked at your shoulder in annoyance, clearly fed up with the reaper's antics. He had come for answers, not dramatics.

"That's how I knew I'd be seein' you, milord."