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Candlelight
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It was clear that Ciel was not an ordinary boy ever since that day. To anyone who had known the boy from when he learnt to crawl, it seemed like something had died in him but it wasn't life that had been breathed back into him. He was far from empty and shellshocked as one might have expected him to be, however. Filled with the desire to pursue something that seemed far out of his reach, his determination brought upon a colder, more ruthless outlook on life. One that demanded confidence and the arrogance that came with it. Ciel Phantomhive had every right to smirk and stand upon as equals with any nobleman in London. He had one trump card and only needed one trump card as well.
He seemed infallible, the boy who had everything and nothing all at once. What was so remarkable about him was that he never asked for what he wanted, only what he needed. Although, his butler raised an eyebrow at that statement, asking if whether the Earl's heavy consumption of sweets was a necessity or luxury. But that was besides the point, it seemed that Ciel Phantomhive was afraid of nothing, having long thrown that instinct in the gutter along with the ability to laugh and smile with joy.
With his noble dog and knight by his side, Ciel Phantomhive was invincible.
That's what he told himself as he stared at the flickering fire from the candelabra sat on his dresser, left there by Sebastian after he'd tucked the boy into bed for the night. His able butler always blew the candles out before he left him to sleep, so Ciel had assumed that he was coming back.
But as the minutes blended into hours and the last of the reflective lights downstairs had been turned down for the night, Ciel realised with a sickening feeling that Sebastian was definitely not coming back. The longer he stared at the flickering light, the more convinced he was that the dancing black spot in the heart of the fire was an eye that was staring back at him, analysing the depth and brevity of his black soul.
Dark shadows loomed and moved in and out of his peripheral vision. It's only the light tricking you, Ciel told himself firmly, fists squeezing the feather duvet. The little Earl made such a convincing adult that even he himself sometimes forgot he was a mere child of thirteen. But it was times like this, when cold sweat trickled down his back, when his hair stuck to his temples, that he remembered that he was only mortal and how easy it was to crush, to destroy a human body.
His breathing picked up as all his senses became acutely aware of his surroundings. The feeling of the soft covers on his body, the way his nightshirt was becoming steadily damp… he could even feel the hairs rising on his nape and on his arms, giving an uncomfortable itch that he dared not scratch. He could hear everything, from the chatter of the servants in the kitchen three floors down, to the hissing, spitting of the candle that sat several feet away from him. And Ciel did not dare move.
It was irrational, he knew he was being irrational and it irritated his logical mind to no end. It was just a candle. He could very easily get up and blow it out himself. But… the childish center he still retained reasoned that if he got up, something could snatch him away, bounding him in chains and rusty manacles much like that time before…
It had been a similar situation… Ciel had woken up in the middle of the night, his curious ten year old self suddenly became aware of the distinct crackling and the heat that seemed to seep in through the walls. The whole mansion was alight and there was a roar in his ears. Except, this time he had gotten out of bed, barefeet padding along the carpeted hallways… only to be greeted with the horror of his lifetime. Hands that weren't attached to bodies had wrapped themselves around his mouth, neck, binding his arms and legs together.
How he struggled, he had bitten his captors, kicking as hard as he could only to be subdued quite painfully… and when he had awoken, he had opened his eyes to a lifeless child staring back at him with candlelight reflecting in her glassy eyes, some sort of fluid trailing out of the side sorry girl's mouth. He had screamed and retched, throwing up on the floor, scooting away as far as he could only to find out that he'd been chained to bolts on the floor.
If I can't see you, you can't see me!
Ciel didn't mind the dark, in fact he would have rather preferred the dark. While other children sought solace in the light to be able to see, Ciel wanted to remain unseen as large, calloused hands poked through the bars, roughly feeling up their cheeks and jaws, probing in their mouths without a care. He wanted to hide, to curl his body inward in the darkness, away from his cruel captors that had forced him to his back, stripping him of his dignity and clothing as he lay bare on a stone table, vision blurry from the tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks.
But there was no escape. The stone walls flickered quite brightly with torches that were hung at regular intervals. The dingy floor laced with blood, vomit and other bodily fluids. The horror could not be escaped and Ciel remembered the faces of his captors very well because of it. Their round, pudgy faces, little black eyes… pigs he thought. That was the only way to describe them, their round, sausage like fingers snatching at him, the way they snorted and laughed in grunts. Ciel shook and trembled, trying his best to pull himself out of his thoughts to no avail.
Uncomfortably warm bodies jostled against him, shrinking away from the cage bars and Ciel was with them as the echo of footsteps ricocheted off the stone walls, coming closer with every passing beat of his heart. They all tried to stay silent, as if their silence would grant them invisibility.
The footsteps drew even closer and Ciel squeezed his eyes shut out of instinct, body curling in on itself trying to be as small as possible.
"Young Master? Is something the matter? Why aren't you asleep yet?" A hand touched his shoulder and Ciel almost screamed- batting the hand away from his person reflexively.
He was breathing hard, eyes wide and unfocused half lost in the past and present, the two melding together in some sort of unforgiving nightmare.
"Who-what-" He panted out harshly, looking around wildly, grappling with his sheets.
"It's me, Young Master. Your loyal butler, Sebastian." The words came out slow and emphatic, trying to drive the syllables through the fog of confusion in the boy's mind.
"Se… Sebas...tian?" Ciel looked around, eyes finally focussing in on the tall, familiar figure and with that, he slowly began to regain himself, calming down enough to catch his breath that was on the verge of giving him an asthma attack.
"It is me, Young Master."
The pair stared at each other, mismatched eyes meeting dark red ones, then,
"... Why didn't you blow it out." The words were spoken so quietly, that even Sebastian nearly missed them.
"Pardon me, my Lo-"
In a flash, Ciel was on his knees half leaning out of bed as he grabbed onto Sebastian front, shaking his butler roughly, his eyes filled with rage and betrayal.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU BLOW IT OUT?! WHY DIDN'T YOU BLOW IT OUT!?"
The boy was screaming, shrieking as he howled the phrase out repeatedly, nails scratching at the material as he lost his grip, trying to find a safehold.
Sebastian was calm as Ciel fell apart before him, babbling incoherent words, little fists striking his chest. A hand caught the edge of the pin that he kept on his lapel, drawing blood but the boy didn't even seem to notice, the wild frenzy overriding any other sense that they boy had left in his mind.
At last, Ciel seemed to lose his strength as he leaned against Sebastian's front, hands loosely curling into the white shirt that was now untucked from his violent outburst. He panted with exertion and exhaustion, trying to seek stability now. His breath was heavy and unsteady as he looked up into the handsome, devilish face.
"I hate this… I hate you...I hate them. I will kill them all if that's the last thing I do." The heat and fire was back in the Phantomhive's eyes, determination burning through fueled with hate and the desire of revenge.
"Of course you will," Sebastian murmured, his hand coming up to stroke the boy's head almost affectionately, "It will be the last thing you do."
fin.