[A/N: I would like to thank everyone for their reviews! I realize I have been a bad author, and failed to put any notes before my chapters. I know they are short, and I do hope this doesn't upset anyone. It is just how I write... but I assure you, the story will have many chapters to make up for how short they are.
On another note, this chapter has some... graphic nature in it, so please beware. It does explain as to why Grell is the way he is, or partly, so to speak. Please read and review, or not. xD But, I thank all my readers, and hope this chapter suits your fancy.]
Hours passed as the Undertaker held Grell tightly in his arms. No words were spoken, the only sounds were those of himself and Grell breathing. Before he knew it, the sun was rising, and the red head had been asleep for hours. Sighing quietly, the Undertaker gently ran his hair through Grell's long red hair. "Just rest m'dear. You are doing great."
Pulling Grell into a gentle embrace, the Undertaker rubbed his back gently, wanting him to sleep as best as possible. Lately, he had been having terrible nightmares, ones of which the red head wouldn't tell him anything about. This worried the mortician greatly, seeing as it could set back his recovery, just when it had begun in the first place.
Twitching slightly, Grell stayed asleep in the warm arms of the retired death god, no sign of nightmares at that moment. However, in his dreamland, things were much different. What the Undertaker believed to be nightmares, were more along the lines of reliving something that had happened not to long ago.
He had just finished what he thought was the worst mission he was sent on. It wasn't so much the mission, but the weather conditions, and the fact that it was in a dark part of London that frightened the feminine reaper.
Wrapping his arms around himself, he shivered, already soaked through and through from the freezing rain. It didn't help much at all that the wind was blowing so hard. Continuing to move forward, the red haired shinigami had no idea the danger he was heading right for.
Stopping at a dead end, he let out a sigh, seeing he had gone and got himself lost. Turning to head back the way he came, he noticed the pack of demons that had surrounded him. Reaching for his weapon, he realized once again that it wasn't his chainsaw, but a pair of tiny scissors. Huffing, he glared forward, hiding that he was actually nervous. "What do you want?"
Stepping forward, one of the bigger demons held a malicious grin on his face. "You sure are a cute one~ I'd really love to taste you." Reaching out, he grabbed both of Grell's wrist, laughing at the squeak of defiance he gave. "I'd suggest that you don't try fighting back, It'll just get you hurt more. You see, you are very lucky actually. None of us are that hungry for souls."
Trying to get free, Grell knew he was in trouble, and couldn't see a way out of it. Just going on instinct, he leaned over, and bit down on the demons hand, and ran forward when he was let go of. However, he didn't get far, as the other demons grabbed on to him and shoved him to the ground.
Grinning at how he whimpered, the demon leaned in close to him, grabbing on to his chin as the other demons held him down. "Shh.. you don't want to attract the people in this area.. I would advise you to stay quiet." Reaching in to Grell's pocket, he pulled out the pair of scissors. "Hmm..." Grinning wider, he set them aside, and carefully undressed Grell, and even folded the clothes, as if mocking the red head. Once he had taken them all off, he stepped back to look the red head over, then reached over and grabbed the scissors. "I really can't resist cutting up your perfect skin. I am sure your blood is beautiful."
Reaching in to his pocket, he pulled out a cloth, and gagged Grell with it. "But, I also need you to keep quiet." Taking the scissors, he moved down near Grell's hip, and went to work on deeply cutting his name in to the red head.
As this happened, all Grell could do was shut his eyes and whimper. It stung pretty bad, especially since the demon was using his own weapons on him. But what stung the most was the fact that the scars would be permanent, and he knew the demon knew this.
After finishing cutting his name in to Grell, the demon found himself making multiple cuts on Grell's body, enjoying the site of the blood that would come from it. After awhile, he became bored of that. Taking the small red scissors, the demon leaned over and stuck them right through his hands, and in to the ground.
Feeling a sharp pain in his hands, Grell screamed through the gag around his mouth, only getting a laugh from the head demon. Clenching his eyes closed tighter, Grell tried to think of something else, but was unable to when the demon suddenly shoved himself into Grell. Letting out another scream, he struggled against the scissors that were holding him down, but found it only made his hands hurt worse.
Taking in deep breaths, he didn't even get a chance to adjust before the demon began to move in and out of him at a inhumane pace. It was only a few minutes before Grell fell unconscious from the pain.
When he finally woke up, he was alone again. The gag had been removed from his mouth, though his scissors were still embedded in his hands. Whimpering, he shut his eyes tightly, and lifted his hand up against the pair of scissors, and pulled until they came from the ground. Breathing heavily, he rolled onto his side, and waited a few minutes before pulling the other pair of scissors out.
After he did that, he laid there for god knows how long, in much to pain to even attempt to get up. After awhile, he decided it was best to get out of that part of town before someone spotted him. Reaching over, he grabbed onto his clothes, and slowly pulled them on. After what seemed like forever, he finally got dressed, and wrapped his cherished red coat tightly around himself, before climbing to his feet.
At first he fell down, but he forced himself to his feet again, and stumbled from the alley way. To his relief, he found he was already close to getting out of that part of the city already. Moving forward, he used a wall for support, only stopping once to vomit up the contents of his stomach.
After walking a short distance, he found himself overcome by dizziness, and collapsed to the ground suddenly, not even getting a chance to find out where he even was.
Watching Grell with a worried look, the Undertaker tried to shake him awake, tried to stop the horrified screams that were coming from the one he loved. Moments passed, and finally, Grell's eyes flashed open, him having awoken from the nightmare. Not saying anything, he clung to the mortician and sobbed uncontrollably.
Rubbing his back, Undertaker shushed Grell, and spoke comforting words. He didn't dare ask Grell what the dream was about, fearing it would cause Grell to slip back further into his shell.
After awhile, Grell had calmed, and was now resting, though not asleep. Due to the nightmares, he was not sleeping much at all, and this too, worried the Undertaker. The red head he once knew to be spunky, and comedic was now a shadow of his former self, and almost a completely different person to the mortician. But this didn't change the love that the Undertaker felt for the crimson reaper, it only deepened it, and made him want to do more to get Grell back to the way he once was. But in order to do this, he had to find out what Grell was having nightmares about, for he knew they were the reason for everything.