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It was a cold, wet night in London when Ciel Phantomhive woke not twenty-four hours after leaving his manor, never to look back. He was unsure what had woken him, since it was still dark out and his butler was no doubt off finding stray kittens to play with. It was absurd to think of a demon having a fondness for kittens, but that was Sebastian for you.
Sighing, and still confused from sleep, Ciel sat up in his bed, which was smaller than the one he had slept in while in the manor. Well, that was one of the drawbacks to living in a townhouse and not a manor. He shook this thought away. He couldn’t go back, not since Hannah had turned him into a demon. He closed his eyes and brought one black nailed hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose.
Maybe the wind had woken him, it was loud tonight. Or maybe it was the rain. Or the rats scurrying in the bakers shop next door. He fisted his hands in the heavy blankets that covered his lap. His hearing had become far better since becoming a demon, and it was just about driving him crazy. He ground his teeth together as he caught the squeak of the bed at the next house over. The neighbors there had been giving Ciel a headache with how often they made that sound. And amazingly it seemed that the husband of the house was not there at all. Regardless, all he wanted to do was draw his pistol on the couple, or order Sebastian to devour their souls... At this thought a sharp pang of horrible, gnawing hunger sliced through his body. Not just his stomach, but his nerves, his muscles, even his skin ached with the intensity of the sensation. He gasped, his hands flying to his head, where his brain throbbed as if he was being strangled. His eyes were open, wide and staring at the white blankets in front of him, but he saw nothing.
“S-Sebastian...” he breathed, barely able to talk. In seconds the butler was there beside him. He pried Ciel’s hands away from his head, and tilted the young earl’s face up. Ciel caught sight of Sebastian’s red eyes, narrow with false concern. His dark hair was immaculate, his clothing perfectly pressed, despite the late hour.
“My lord, what seems to be the problem? Another asthma attack? I thought we had rid you of those when you lost your humanity.” Ciel simply glared at his butler, his body still burning, though it did feel as if it was lessening. Regardless, it still left him breathless.
“Hurts...” was all the demonic earl could force out through his clenched teeth.
“Where, my lord?” Sebastian was definitely enjoying this, Ciel could just feel it.
“Everywhere. What the bloody hell have you done to me?” the butler merely smiled, a soft, serene kind of expression.
“Ahh, well then you are hungry. I was wondering if this would happen soon. Your body is adjusting much more quickly than I thought it would.” Ciel pulled his hands away from his butler as the pain finally ebbed enough for him to relax back against the pillows.
“What are you talking about; demons have no need to eat mortal food.” What was the idiot playing at?
“Of course not, young master. We feast on the souls of the living. Don’t you remember?” Ciel crossed his arms in front of him, his gaze going to the plain wallpaper across the room. He remained silent, sulking, until another wave of the horrible pain had him gasping and doubling over.
“Oh dear, it seems as though your demonic nature is trying to feed on your own trapped soul. We must get you food, and quickly.” Without pause or ceremony, Sebastian scooped a still breathless Ciel into his arms. Before the Earl of Phantomhive could force his eyes to adjust to the speed of his butlers movements, he was already dressed and being carried down the front steps of the townhouse. He gasped and cringed as the cold rain hit his skin, sending jolts of agony through him.
“W-Where are we going?” he asked, ducking his head into Sebastian’s chest to keep the rain off his face.
“There is a building where gamblers play cards just a few streets away. There we should find someone to suit my masters tastes.” Ciel took a deep breath as the pain lessened again, and pushed himself away from his butler as much as he could without falling. He caught sight of Sebastian’s smirk and glared hard. The butler seemed unfazed.
“You think that I would enjoy a soul that threw its life away on a petty game?” Ciel’s voice, while still breathy, was stronger than it had been.
“Not at all, young master. But the taste of a soul who has just won a substantial amount of money is quite delicious. Besides, sin is a particularly wonderful spice, along with fear and sorrow. All of which reside heavily in places of ill repute.” The look on Sebastian’s face made Ciel glad his soul was now out of reach. Safely tucked away behind a demonic wall. Or, not so safely as it turned out.
“Is that why you wanted me then? My sin? My fear? My sorrow?” The demon butler actually licked his lips. Ciel shivered and looked away to the street rushing by them.
“Not at all, my lord. Alois Trancy tasted of all of those things, and a darkness, too, that was almost rotten. You, my lord, tasted the way only a pure soul that had seen darkness but held back from it could. Your soul would have been the most delicious feast I have ever had.” Was that resentment Ciel heard in Sebastian’s voice? He almost smiled at the thought.
“Pity, then, what Hannah did. Now you won’t ever get your perfect meal.” This time he did smirk. The next second it was wiped off his face as he was very nearly dropped to the ground. He had to draw on all of his new supernatural power to stay upright. He blinked, his gaze going, first, to the cold, marble like face of his butler, and then to the door in front of them. It was closed, and made of a heavy wood that had a set of numbers branded into it, but they were so faded with age and ware Ciel couldn’t make them out. He did, however, see the sign that read The Devil’s Tavern. He rolled his eyes.
“Shall we precede with your lesson, young master? We don’t want that pain to come back, do we?” Ciel had half a mind to order his butler to do something slightly physically impossible with himself, but he refrained. He did not want to see how the demon would obey.
Instead he grabbed the doorknob and began to pull it open. A gloved hand on the wood stopped him. He looked up to find Sebastian towering over him, holding the door shut. “What?”
“My lord, you have not yet learned to tell a suitable soul from a rotten one. Allow me to teach you before we go in.” Gritting his teeth (because Sebastian was technically right) Ciel nodded, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Excellent. Now, I want you to close your eyes.” When Ciel complied, Sebastian kneeled down so they were very nearly eye level. “I want you to tell me what you feel in that Tavern.” Ciel sighed, but he tried anyway.
“Nothing.” Sebastian sighed, a longsuffering sound. Ciel crossed his arms and turned his face away, his eyes still closed.
“Let your mind wander.” Again Ciel complied, and they stood there for a good five minutes before the Earl took a sharp breath in.
“What is that? What are all those lights?” Sebastian smiled, his eyes glittering pink for just a second before they returned to red.
“Those are souls, my lord. There are twenty souls inside, all of which are yours for the taking.” At this, Ciel froze, his eyes flying open.
“But...how does this make me any better than Trancy and his butler? Than Madam Red and that infernal Reaper? I am the queen’s guard dog. I can’t just go around killing people.” The young earl said, his uncovered eye dimming from pink to blue again.
“Humans kill animals for food almost every day. This is no different. Do not forget, young master, you are not human anymore. Ciel Phantomhive is dead, therefore nothing you do now is an action of the queen’s guard dog.” Ciel flinched at the reminder that the boy his parents had loved and cherished was well and truly gone into the depths of hell. He bit his lip, his mind racing, trying to decide what to do. The decision was made for him by the hunger ripping through him again. He cried out, his body tensing, causing him to fall forward. Sebastian caught him easily, hoisting the young earl into his arms to keep him off the filthy ground.
It took a good few minutes for this bout of pain to pass, and once it did, Ciel was left panting. “F-Fine.” he stuttered a moment later. “T-tell me what to do.” The butler smiled, his eyes flashing as he set Ciel back on the ground.
“First we must be inside.” With a small nod and a deep breath Ciel reached for the knob and pushed the door open. Inside was a haze of smoke, blocking most everything from view. Inhaling just a bit, Ciel recognized the scent of opium. He fought the urge to cover his nose. The stuff did nothing to him now, but it still smelled horrible.
Where a moment before Ciel had been able to hear the chatter of people talking, laughing, cursing, and yelling, now it was silent. He could feel their eyes on him. Could tell that almost every single person in this room was armed and ready to use it.
“Hey, kid, ya shouldn’ be here. This’s no place fer a child.” called the bartender, his voice was thick with an accent that reminded Ciel of Wales or Scotland, but it was hard to tell through the slur of too much drink. Ciel shot him a look that had the man backing up.
“Choose one, Ciel.” muttered Sebastian from behind him. He closed his eyes just long enough to reassess the room. The lights that played behind his eyes had a sense, and a sort of smell that came with them. It was hard to make out, and he knew he needed more practice, but there was enough coming to him to make a choice.
The bartended felt and smelled like old lamp oil, and Ciel wrinkled his nose. There was a man at the bar who felt like death, rotten and slimy. He leered at Ciel in a way that reminded the young earl of the month after his parent’s death. He pushed that though away, his eyes roaming over every person one by one. This one was to dry, this one to broken, that one to much like grave yard dirt. And then one, one that tasted of a hot roast beef, and potatoes with butter. He unconsciously licked his lips, his eyes sliding open, and he knew that they looked demonic, but none of the men in the room seemed to notice. It seemed the smoke was good for something after all.
His gaze locked onto a man at the far end of the tavern. He was sitting with another man, playing a game of cards that Ciel recognized from playing with Lizzy. Who knew a sweet little girl like her would know about a game like that, eh? Ignoring the bartender, who was still talking (Ciel’s appraisal of the room had only taken a second) he strolled forward.
“You wouldn’t mind playing a hand with me, would you?” he asked the man. He was older, probably over fifty, with graying hair, sharp blue eyes, and a hard, weather beaten face. A sailor, then. Ciel wondered which ship would be missing him, or if he had retired.
The man looked up at him, his eyes calculating and cold. His mouth twitched up in a hard smile. “Kids shouldn’t be in here.” Ciel’s eyes narrowed, his mouth forming a hard line.
“Why, afraid you might lose to a child and never be able to call yourself a man again?” The man’s eyes hardened, his grin falling into a frown.
“Fine, sit if you’re so determined. I’ll give you one game, and you better have something worth betting. I don’t care about your prized bear or favourite blankie.” he said the last few words in a voice Ciel had only heard when people talked to infants. With a smirk, Ciel glanced at the man in the chair in front of him, his eyes flashing. The man started and scrambled away, leaving the chair empty. Ciel sat down and slid the Phantomhive ring off of his thumb, tossing it in the center of the beaten up round table.
“How’s this for a bet? If you win you can have my ring, a genuine blue diamond, only two in the whole world.” The man’s eyes widened as he took in the ring, with its ornate silver band and sparkling blue gem. His eyes held a hind of greed that gave the scent of his soul a slightly sour quality, like a ripe lemon. Ciel fought the urge to lick his lips.
“And what do you get if you win?” asked the man, his eyes still on the ring.
“Simple,” said Ciel, “I get your soul.” A small sound from Sebastian told Ciel that the game he was playing was a good one. The man laughed, a loud, grating sound that made Ciel want to cover his ears. How could someone with such a delicious soul be so annoying?
“You have yourself a deal, kid.” Clearly he expected to win, and had no idea what Ciel meant by his bet. He probably thought Ciel a spoiled child who wanted to defy his parents by coming to the ‘bad part of town’ unaccompanied, for none of the humans seemed to have noticed the demonic specter that was his butler.
“So you agree to the contract, then?” Ciel asked, remembering well the words he had spoken to Sebastian the day he had formed his own contract. But this man didn’t know what he was agreeing to.
“Yeah, yeah, I agree to the contract. Whatever that means.” he gave Ciel a wide, mostly toothless grin and begin to shuffle the cards. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Ciel Phantomhive.” the man nodded. Apparently he didn’t know who Ciel was, or he would have questioned why a dead earl was sitting in front of him.
“Hank O’Riley.” said the man, and he held his hand out to Ciel. The demon earl took the offered appendage, and the moment their hands touched the palm of Ciel’s hand stung. Apparently so did O’Riley’s, because he pulled back with a grunt.
“Damn! That’s the third time today someone stung me. Must be a storm coming.” Ciel ignored him in favor of looking down at his hand. He slid the glove off ever so slightly, and almost gasped aloud when he saw the thick black lines of a contract mark. Hs gaze flicked to the man’s hand. There, clear as day on his palm, was a black pentagram. The outer circle was made up of what looked like a ring of black flames, the inner circle filled in with what looked like lace. Skin showed through around the outside of the star which was also filled in with some kind of lacy pattern. The way it was made, the star looked almost three dimensional, like if Ciel touched it he would feel a point at its center.
He looked up at the man, but he seemed not to have noticed the mark on his hand, probably to drunk and his brain to fuzzy with opium to think anything of it. O’Riley dealt the cards, and they began to play.
Half way through the game, which Ciel was winning (he could tell by the man’s expression), the pains came back, not nearly as bad as before, but still enough to take his breath away. He grit his teeth and ignored it as best he could, but his brain was screaming. The scent of O’Riley’s soul was making his body strain towards the man, his mouth nearly watering.
“You ok, kid? Too far past your bedtime?” Ciel felt his eyes change, and saw the blue shine of the contract mark on his hand through his glove. He shoved the pain out of his head, took a deep breath, and turned his attention back to the game.
A half an hour later and a few choice phrases from O’Riley and Ciel had won the game. The contract mark glowed briefly as he stood and collected his ring from the center of the table.
“Right. Now, what do you want, kid?” O’Riley asked, folding his arms over his chest. “Money? What?” Ciel sighed. This man really was an idiot.
“I told you I want your soul. You agreed, and now I have to collect.” All around them, the other patrons of the Tavern were buried in their own drinks and games. None were looking in the direction of their table, and so Ciel reached up and slid his fingers under his eye patch. He pulled it off, the laces undoing themselves easily, despite how tightly they were tied. He opened both eyes, ignoring the fact that the vision on the right was brighter than the left. He blinked once, and then let his eyes shift into their demonic coloring, Sebastian’s mark glowing purple in his iris.
O’Riley scrambled backwards, his eyes widening almost comically. Ciel didn’t move to stop him from running, mostly because he knew that Sebastian was ready to grab the man should he make it too far. O’Riley made it out the door as Ciel made his way slowly across the Tavern and out into the cold, but no longer raining night. The pain hit him the moment the cold wind hit his face and he had to hang onto the door frame to stay up. Sebastian was standing in the shadows, his own eyes glowing, as he held O’Riley tightly. The human was struggling, and from the look of his hands, he had tried fight Sebastian. Ciel would have laughed had he not been in so much agony.
“Young master, what are your orders?” asked Sebastian, his voice soft and calming to Ciel’s pain-wracked nerves.
“H-How l-long does it take?” He knew that his butler knew what it meant just by the look in his eyes.
“Moments, my lord. But to you it will feel like an eternity. You will see and feel everything this man his ever felt or seen. You will know him, far better than even he knows himself, and it is an exquisite experience.” Some part of Ciel’s brain, the part he had come to know as his demonic instinct, was writhing and growling with its hunger, with the need to feel what Sebastian spoke of, but the human part of Ciel’s mind resisted. What horrors had this man known? What horrors had he been a part of? Could Ciel take another man’s horrible memories when he had so many of his own? Clenching his eyes shut as another pang of hunger rolled through him he made his decision.
Stepping forward, he motioned for Sebastian to release the man, who came crashing down to the ground hard. “Please God have mercy. What are you going to do to me? What are you?” he scrambled backwards, his back hitting the wall. A part of Ciel, his trapped soul, wept for all that would happen this night. He pushed it aside. He had given up his soul the day those monsters had killed his family. It wasn’t his fault Sebastian hadn’t collected.
“How do I...” he trailed off as he stopped moving in front of the man. The pain was still radiating though him, but the presence of the contract mark on his intended victim made it so the burning hunger drove Ciel towards the man instead of weakening him as it had done before.
“They say, master, that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and that is true, but it is the mouth that is the doorway.” Ciel felt his nose wrinkle in disgust.
“Are you saying that I have to kiss him?” The demonic butler laughed softly behind him, towering, now, over Ciel’s shoulder as he had done all through the game.
“Not kiss him, draw out his soul through his mouth and then consume it. Once it is in the open, you will know what to do.”Sebastian sounded almost elated at giving these instructions. The man cowered, pressing himself as far back as he could against wall. Ceil looked into his eyes, and suddenly, O’Riley stilled, his eyes going wide, his breathing evening out.
“Good, master. Now you need but call his soul.” At any other moment in time, Ciel would have glared at Sebastian for being so vague, but tonight he knew what his butler meant. Without hesitation Ciel bent forward so that his face was nearly touching O’Riley’s. The man didn’t even move, to entranced by Ciel’s gaze. Ciel’s mouth opened, and, without his conscious thought, he drew in a breath that seemed to make the air a million times colder, as if all the warmth had been taken from it. With it, came a strange, bluish-white substance from the man’s mouth. As it came, his eyes glazed over, the color leaching out of them slowly. Ciel breathed in again, this time drawing some of the mist-like substance into his lungs. Suddenly his mind burst with color, light, and sound.
He was staring into the face of a woman he had never met, but he loved her with all his heart. He saw a man, pinched faced and gaunt looking. For some reason he was sad, though Ciel didn’t know why. He saw the man again in a park, pushing Ciel on a rope swing attached to a tree.
He was being chased by boys that he knew, and yet didn’t know, his heart racing in his chest. He was falling, breaking his leg painfully in front of the only girl he had ever thought was beautiful. He gazed out into the ocean, his heart both heavy and light at the prospect of being away from his home.
He was dancing with the pretty blonde haired girl he had loved as a child. Marrying her. Loving her as only a husband can. She was pregnant, and he was so happy. And then she was dead, along with the baby. He was back a sea, drinking. The years blended together, drink and drugs became his life, and soon he was living out on the streets.
He saw the Devil’s Tavern for the first time, and the many women he could spend his money on. He saw nights spent crying alone in an alleyway, no light or warmth to be had. All of this leading up to today, which he spent sitting in the Tavern, his pocket empting and refilling at a dizzying speed from his gambling. Finally, Ciel saw himself. A short, grayish-blue haired boy in a black suit and a black cape. His only visible eye gaunt and dark in the low light and hazy smoke. He saw the game, watched himself turn more and more predatory as he won. He saw himself leaning over O’Riley, his eyes glowing and demonic. He felt all of the fear, the hatred, and finally a great sense of loss, followed quickly by a bright light. With the light came a sense of warmth and love. Of coming home.
With a gasp and a cry of both agony and fulfillment Ciel was pulled out of O’Riley’s head. He staggered backwards, his body thrumming with electricity. The feeling of O’Riley’s death left his brain the instant he took a breath of night air. His head snapped up, his eyes taking in everything with a new clarity. The world danced with a thousand colorful shadows, the air itself alive with the torment and wonder of the city.
He saw rats scurrying among the garbage, birds flying high in the sky, their feathers glistening in the blood red light of near dawn. The stars glittered blue, the clouds sparkling silver. Ciel’s ears picked up the sounds of the street, and of at least twenty streets beyond, his nose registering the scents of more than a hundred souls, half good enough to make his mouth water.
Finally, after many long minutes, his vision dimmed, his hearing lessened, and he could no longer smell half of the city’s souls. He was breathing heavily, his body trembling, filled with emotions he had never in his life dreamed of. He became aware of a hand on his arm, and looked up to find Sebastian looking down at him.
“Young master, are you alright?” his tone was questioning, but his eyes danced with mirth. Annoyed suddenly, Ciel pulled away from him.
“I’m fine.” he said, straightening his cloak around his shoulders. “Is it like that every time you...feed?”
“The feelings fade over time. It’s why demons always make long term contracts after awhile. Feeding on any passing human becomes quite boring.” Ciel though this over, not understanding how that feeling could ever get old. Then again, too much of a good thing... Then his mind flipped to another question that had been raised by Sebastian’s explanation.
“Do you have to make a contract with every human?” Sebastian chuckled.
“Not at all. In fact, making a contract is dangerous. It gives the contract holder a certain power over the demon, and makes them entirely dependent on that human for sustenance.” Ciel frowned, his eyes flashing to O’Riley, who was slumped against the alley wall, his eyes wide and blank. His chest was still, his mouth hanging slightly open. Ciel turned away.
“How do you get sustenance from a contract if you don’t eat their souls?” he asked, turning back to look at his butler.
“You feed on their very life force. It does nothing to them, of course. But it does keep the demon from feeling the hunger pains. We are still starving, but less so.” Ciel nodded at his butlers words, understanding at least a little.
“And do you still feed off of my life force. We are technically still contracted to each other.” A dark look passed over the crow demon’s features, his eyes flashing. Ciel smirked, a dark part of his heart pleased by his butler’s anger.
“Yes I do, though it is dampened slightly. It does seem to have strengthened since you consumed Mr. O’Riley’s soul, however.” Sebastian’s words made Ciel frown, the memories of the man’s life playing again before his eyes. He shook it off.
Turning his attention back to the night’s events, he tugged his glove off. The back of his hand was pale and blemish free, no black contract symbol to be found. He studied his skin for a moment before slipping the glove back on. “Yes, I did see that you had marked him. It was an interesting mark, if I do say so myself. But, then again, I did not know anything about a human being turned into a demon.” This sent a pang of joy through Ciel. There was something so satisfying about Sebastian admitting that he didn’t know something.
“What about it is so interesting?” he asked, his voice low.
“I have never seen a mark with that uncontrolled of an outer circle.” And that was all he said on the subject. Some day Ciel really had to sit down and think of an order that would make it so the butler had to tell him everything in a concise, detailed manor instead of these long, time wasting half-truths. Until then, though, that answer would just have to be good enough.
After a moment’s hesitation, Ciel spoke, “Sebastian, take me home.” he ordered, his voice hard in the cold night air. Dawn was just beginning to creep over the skyline, dazzling Ciel’s still sensitive eyes. He blinked, and grabbed for the eye patch safely hidden in his trouser pocket.
“Yes, my lord.” and Ciel was once more being carried at breakneck speed through the streets of London, his heart soaring, but his soul aching. Half of one thing, half the other, and not entirely whole either way. Then again, he mused as Sebastian left him in his study to go and make some kind of arrangement for the day’s schedule, I’ve never really been whole since the fire anyway. Maybe this is just my penance for living when my family died.
He closed his eyes, his head falling down onto his desk with a thud. There were so many thing that he had seen in O’Riley’s head that he would never experience. Love, life, age. But the sorrow, loss, anger, and pain he had already felt. Enough for a lifetime, so maybe being a demon wasn’t such a bad thing. The small, aching part of his heart screamed out at this, pulling him back from the brink of darkness. He groaned, his hands pressing against the desk’s hard surface. Nothing made sense yet, and he could only hope that under Sebastian’s tutelage, all of this would one day not throw him into confusion.
Too caught up in his own thoughts, he never noticed the figure in the corner of the room. Or the dark smile that gleamed beneath glowing, demonic eyes.
Fin