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The reason of those best able to have their way is always the best: We now show how this is true A lamb was quenching its thirst In the water of a pure stream. A fasting wolf came by, looking for something; He was attracted by hunger to this place.
Humans are grasshoppers. Children are worth even less. After all, they're just beginning to gain a sense of value to humans themselves since it's so easy to make them, to lose them, to make some more. They’re nothing but an unshaped clay of potential for creatures like him. Shaped by knives, intentions and expectations, probable pain— until maybe one day, one or two walks outside, reeking of blood and rage, right into his mouth. And it's been this way since the dawn of time, time he killed for centuries to fill the gaping hole where a soul should be, which he filled with many others.
When that unshaped clay signed his soul away, the demon signed away his freedom for a mere potential. No choice was left for any of them. He was to take on the role of hands and knives but did not think through it very much. He was himself unshaped clay of somesort, walking within the human skin of a protective adult. The demon looks down on the tiny thing that called him over.
—What makes you so bold as to meddle with my drinking? Said this animal, very angry. You will be punished for your boldness
The now Butler looks at his wet gloved hands. They burn. Pain of the flesh is inconsequential, he could get a new one some time soon, it's a foreign feeling, while obviously unpleasant. Like maybe cutting a finger up while dreaming away. Pain of the ego however rings through his entire body. The unshaped clay now Master is behaving like a newborn pulling a cat’s tail over and over again. It soon enough will become a bit of an endearing trait of his, probably. When it’ll stop triggering his desire to maim. He looks up at this weak master who slowly gains a shape.
—Sir, answered the lamb, let Your Majesty Not put himself into a rage; But rather, let him consider That I am taking a drink of water In the stream More than twenty steps below him; And that, consequently, in no way, Am I troubling his supply.
Blood is on the grass and more will pour. Body filled with adrenaline as it rips more intruders, more targets. Nothing is known of them, and the demon wouldn’t care to learn such things as family, names or any pleadings, any excuses. Death doesn’t come out of anger nor is it personal. He is ordered to execute and execute he does. Soon enough he only knows executing, can only smell blood and starts to drown inside his limiting cage.
Everything morphs into each other, flesh is wounds is meat is guts is human. Like all the times he reached this state before, he gains the knowledge that better sleeps soundly inside. Wonders if it will finally be the time to toss aside those learned quirks of patience and care, of loyalty and dignity to give in to hunger. He used to quietly slip back inside, soiled with death, towards the master’s bedroom he entered without a sound just to stare at the little figure. The boy doesn’t move, probably won’t hear. He spent too many sleepless nights before, thus sometimes got a little help in his milk before laying down, to avoid complete exhaustion. Works wonders. Humans develop new tricks everyday to avoid children's screams.
—You do trouble it, answered the cruel beast. And I know you said bad things of me last year. —How could I do that when I wasn’t born, Answered the lamb; I am still at my mother’s breast. —If it wasn’t you, then it was your brother. —I haven’t a brother.—It was then someone close to you;
The child is the weakest of its kind. His prey smells like death and yet it only brings questions. The demon should eat to appease hunger but cannot, because he chose to be Sebastian. Sebastian is a placeholder for a child’s needs but even that part doesn’t reason. After all, even a mother cat eats her sickest kitten. And it seems like deep down even the master knows the wrong kitten was dragged to hell. In the end, Sebastian showed up and ate what was on the plate. Nothing more nothing less. Everything in nature should take this life away. Nothing did. Humans tame themselves for preservation sake. Something valuable to learn about them. Tame yourself and wait.
For you have no sympathy for me, You, your shepherds and your dogs. I have been told of this. I have to make things even.
Tame yourself and wait.
As the demon thinks of his hunger, the butler starts to mechanically check a mental list of tomorrow’s imperatives. His stomach tores apart. He wonders if the bread could make a good Pain Perdu for tea time. Blood sticks to his skin. The young master will be wearing his blue coat, because the air starts to get cold.
He gently puts his tainted red gloves away, rearranges Ciel’s pillow and covers before disappearing like he came. Cleans the mess outside.
Tame yourself and wait.
Saying this, into the woods The wolf carries the lamb, and then eats him Without any other why or wherefore.
Thankfully he was always more bored than he was hungry.