GrellXUndertaker Fanfic Ch. 2

Chapter 2: The Final Recollection

     He was led down a cold marble hallway, and into a small room. The hooded person pushed him in, locking the door behind him.
     He looked around the room, strangely calm, despite his recent ordeal. It was as if everything he was far away, pushed into a small corner of his subconscious. He took his surroundings in with an almost logical and critical point of view, which was beyond rare for him. The room was small, with wooden floors and whitewashed walls, a single window letting the sunset's first burning embers of light in. There was a bed in the corner, and a desk, well organized and outfitted. Lying on the bed was a black suit, obviously intended for him. He ignored it, instead, pulling the chair to the window to look out into the sky. Wind blew, rustling his long red hair, but still he did not cry. He simply sat there, watching the moon rise and fall into the sky.
     Somehow, by the time morning came, he had not slept at all. There was a knock on the door. He felt a presence behind him, but he did not look.
     "Are you going to sleep?"
     He said nothing.
     "You may be immortal, but you can't last forever."
     "…"
     "Entertain me."
     His dry lips moved, cracking. A bead of blood gathered there, staining the pale skin. "I cannot sleep."
     A chuckle. "Oh?"
     He spun around, anger gathering, and then forgotten as he looked into the face of the lead shinigami, Death Scythe and all. Glancing away, he blushed a little, embarrassed and ashamed at the feelings gathering inside of him as he murmured, "It's…not something to joke about."
     "If you don't joke about it, you'll go insane~" He spun around in a circle, smiling.
"It's true you know. If you don't laugh, the world will be boring. Which means I will be bored. Which means…" His voice trailed off into a soft, seductively dangerous whisper, "Bad things will happen to the people who don't laugh."
     Grell swallowed nervously, heat rising to his face at the other man's tone.
     "But," The shinigami smiled. "Seeing as I'm your mentor for now, why don't you tell me about your past. Is there anything funny? After all…if you don't amuse me, I might just decide that you're better off serving as a escort for the spirits going to Hell…"
     His heart pounded uneasily, and he wet his lips, beginning to talk.

     "Hey, idiot! Yeah you! Nutin' but a bloody dog, huh?"
     The kids in my village always seemed to hate me. My first memory is of being beaten with a stick by some neighborhood playmate, and feeling hopelessness. I knew no one was going to come save me. I guess I must have been five, then, and already I was an outcast. The village freak. It made sense. I was a bastard child, my mother an outcast and a whore for a city about twenty minutes travel. So I took it. It didn't stop there, either. They would hold me down to the ground and lash me with birch branches…I have-…had…scars from that still. It was brutal.
     "That was when I committed my first sin: Wrath. I hated them…not for what they did to me, but how they slandered my mother. If I had a knife, I would have murdered every one of them in their beds. I was only seven when the thought occurred to me.
     "But I couldn't, so I took it. I did nothing…I was helpless, and lazy and unproductive. There was nothing to do, really. My mother was at work during most of the day and night, and if I went outside, I would be tortured by those boys. So I stayed home and did nothing all day. That is my second sin, Sloth. There was no other alternative.
     "By this time, I was nearly sixteen, almost a man. Many of the boys my age were already courting the girls in my village…the girls were pretty, but I just didn't like any of them. I always thought: Next year, next spring, but the feeling never came. I learned why when a traveling gypsy troupe came through town, and I met a boy who was the same as me…I've never wanted anything as much as I wanted him…and he wanted me, too. I'll spare you the details, but when he left…it was hell. I cried when no one was around, remembering the line from the Holy Book my gentle mother loved so dearly…"If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, he has done the despicable, and should be put to death." My third sin: Lust. That's all it was…  
     "Four years later, I was living alone. My mother had passed away when I was twenty-one. Most of the men in the village had already settled down, with a wife and a farm. I wanted that…I wanted to live with someone I loved, to settle down with them, to be with them. That was all I wanted, all I thought about. I was so Jealous of them, I couldn't stand it. I wanted what they had so badly…I would have killed for it. By then, though, I knew what a despicable human I was…I tried, but no matter where I ran and hid, my sins always followed me. They were etched into my body, my subconscious. I could not escape…"
     He took a moment, and let himself breathe a little before turning to face the window and resting his head on the ledge. When he spoke again, it was softer, more controlled.
     "As…for Pride. You wouldn't think that a twenty-year-old man with no family, no job, and no respect would have very much, would you? But I did…I was proud of my dead mother, who loved me and never spoke harshly, no matter how tired she was from work. I was proud…"
     "I actually got a job, apprenticing as a blacksmith, and my life was actually good for a while…until we hired a new apprentice, from another town…I loved him at first sight…I guess you could say it was Gluttony…I wanted his attention, and for his attention to only be on me. …I was horrible, but he loved me, so we were together."
     "I can remember clearly the day we were caught. It was a bright spring morning, and we woke up in each other's arms. I looked out the window, into the faint spring sunlight, and I smiled, feeling refreshed. He stirred beside me, just waking up. I rustled his hair, kissing him on the forehead, and the door burst open with a horrible, shattering bang. The blacksmith loomed over us. I screamed, but he covered my mouth and whispered in my ear: "The villagers know. They're coming for you."
     "You knew?" I asked, panicking.
     "The blacksmith had smiled sadly. "You two can hide in my cellar. I'll try talking sense into them.
     "Tears gathered in my eyes, and I whispered. "Thank you…"
     "He nodded, and in five minutes, I was in his cellar. I could hear the villagers shouting above me, and my heart sank. My lover squeezed my hand, attempting to reassure me, and I made my decision.
     "Standing, I kissed him on the cheek one last time, and climbed out of the cellar.
     "The crowd went silent, and apprehensively, I realized that they had lashes and rope. They glared at me with a hatred so intense it split my heart and hope in two.
     "Well?" My voice came out higher than I meant it to. Swallowing, I started again. "What is it?" my voice trembled.
     "A priest stepped forward, holding a bible. I stared at it impassively, a lump gathering in my throat as I faced my sins. The priest cleared his throat and began to talk in a dry, ominous voice.
     "Mikael Br`odham, you are sentenced to committing an unforgivable sin. Leviticus 18:22"
     "The world seemed to spiral out from under me, and all I could hear was the pastor's voice droning on and on, saying the very things that had been lurking in my mind from the moment I desired to wrap my fingers around those boy's throats, my first sin…
     "…Punished. Do you understand what this entails?"
     "I nodded, mute, and ran, faster than I ever had. I didn't think, I only ran from my sins, the terror of my fate. They caught me, and dragged me, screaming, into the center of the village. I was not a hero, I begged for my life before them, tied to the whipping post while burning pain exploded across my back…100 lashes is what they sentenced me to…no man could live through that. I could not see their faces, but I knew what they looked like. I heard their whispers. In my mind I saw them, whispering and giggling and sighing while I screamed, screamed in horror and pain. My final sin…I was greedy. I wanted so badly to keep my life, to keep my happiness. But even as I felt those sinful feelings, I could feel my life fading away…they say, at the end, you give up, but I didn't. I kept fighting. I clung on to life, ever so greedily, until I couldn't feel the pain anymore…I died, then, and when I woke up, I knew the full velocity of my sins…"

     He closed his eyes, a single tear escaping from beneath the lid. "I got what I deserved, I suppose."
     Undertaker smiled, gentler than before. With a voice layered with many undertones, he put his hand on Grell's forehead, and murmured the single word, "Forget"
     Grell's pupils contracted, colors fluctuating wildly, before they settled into a two layer lime green. He collapsed onto him, red hair splayed out over the white mattress.
     Undertaker giggled, and laid him out on the mattress. Folding his fingers together, he smiled widely, and nodded. "I do wonder what kind of person he will be when he wakes up."