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Aster Vow	By : Elleyis Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 1134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler, aka Kuroshitsuji or any of the character there in. Black Butler is the property of Yana. I am making no money from this.

Chapter List
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On the third day of their departure another wet and dreary fog covered sky awaited Mr. and Mrs. West. The carriage rattled and creaked along the dirt and pebbled strewn trail and the entire journey back home was sure to be a long and monotonous trek.
“Dear, did anything about Earl Trancy seem strange to you?” Meena uttered out of the blue.
Harold replied, “Nothing that I can recall dearest, other than you being so secretive with the maid.” Whose head head was lying on his wife’s lap was feeling quite comfortable as Meena spoke to him in her soft voice. His proper place in the bosom of his darling wife was rightfully restored and all was splendid from his view.
The somber woman frowned at her husband. The relaxed gentlemen honestly had no misgivings or suspicions about the Earl of Trancy nor any of his servants. Unlike his wife Harold saw nothing of the Earl’s true nature. During the days he was occupied with contracts and orders, in the afternoons the Earl entertained him with sport, and in the evenings nothing but sensual dreams frequented his slumber. Harold smiled while gazing up at his darling. “Unless you count waking up in lonely bed with bothersome headaches as strange, then I suppose that would be a yes.”
A look of frustration and unease was riddled on his wife’s face as she watched the countryside roll by through the car’s window. She thought to herself ‘How could he be so blind to everything?’ The staff was incredibly small for maintaining such a huge mansion, the silent servants were ever present though always went unnoticed as if they were invisible, the butler who never expressed any emotion at all looked positively dangerous, and above all else the Earl’s behavior was on par with a sociopath.

.

“By the way,” Harold added while his wife mused, “Did your handmaiden have anything good to share with you?”
“Unfortunately no. It is as she said. The Earl tells her nothing of his work.” Meena closed her eyes feeling rather worn out.
“Well, there was the possibility of her holding valuable information. It doesn’t matter anymore now that we hold the Earl of Trancy’s favor. The business will grow phenomenally; fame, fortune, wealth, all of it will be ours and that is only the beginning.” Harold balled his hand into a fist pretending to grasp all he had mentioned within. Still his wife’s mood did not change.
“Dear,” the resting gentlemen spoke with concern, “there is nothing to worry about. When we get back to London I can assure you the Earl of Phantomhive will never trouble us again.”
The tired woman’s eyelids rose and her pupils constricted. Indeed she was troubled but the Earl of Phantomhive was far from her thoughts. Hearing her husband’s talk of him now stirred up the same feelings of dread and foreboding she felt at the Trancy Manor. “What do you mean Harold? How can you know such a thing?”
Mr. West righted himself and sat properly in his seat. He wanted to ease his wife’s fears and so took her in his arms. “Meena, you are the only one I’ve ever cared for. Your beauty and intelligence astounds me. Of all the women in the whole of Europe none could ever hope to be equal to you. When Ciel Phantomhive tried to kill us, tried take you away from me, I felt powerless.” His grasp became firmer. “After that assassin struck me down I could see her rushing toward you. Reeling from pain I tried to force my body to move, to protect you from her, but I could not get up. I thought I was going to lose you.”
Meena was surprised; Harold’s arms trembled around her small frame. Did she really mean so much to him? The quaking gentlemen took a deep breath and steadied himself. Letting her go he then removed a furled letter from his coat pocket and showed it to his beloved. Two rings, one slightly larger than the other, bore the emblem of a spider. They were slipped around the center of the note the holding the page in place.
“I have here a letter from our business partner and now benefactor. Upon our return I am to give this directly to his correspondents in London. The Earl of Trancy agents have ties to the Yard. These rings are proof of our allegiance to his Lordship. My dear do you see, we are under his protection now. Not even that mongrel who serves the Queen would dare to bare his teeth us!”
Meena’s head began to spin. A tumultuous storm of dismay and havoc ran rampant through her mind. First the Earl of Phantomhive, then the creepy manor, the servants, the butler, and now The Earl of Trancy becoming entwined their lives. It was all too much to bare.
Harold taking no notice of her condition slid one of the tokens off the note and took hold of Meena’s right hand. Smiling he placed the trinket across her finger. “Meena I swear, no harm will ever come to you.”
Outside behind the driver seat of the rolling carriage a hairy tarantula crawled out into the rainy air. It made its way up the back of a tail coat and then bit into the old and withered nape of the driver. The carriage suddenly veered of the roadside. The occupants of the cabin lurched forward and then were thrown back as the speed of the cab increased.
“I say. What the hell is going on?” Mr. West spoke with a startled gruff. He began knocking on the cabin’s window to get the driver’s attention but the carriage jumped as it barreled into the woods. The man’s head hit the roof and he tumble back into to his seat. His wife desperately clung to her door as they were jostled about from the uneven terrain.
“Dammit man! Stop the car!” Harold shouted. The driver paid no heed, instead the horses made a sharp turn around a large oak. Meena let out a shrill cry as the car collided against the massive tree trunk. Then all was silence and black.

~*~

Harold opened his eyes. He shivered as he felt the cold and dank air seeping in from the woods wrap around his body. Shards of glass and pieces of broken wood lay everywhere. “Meena?” He tried to shake the grogginess out of his body while he searched for his wife. Rivulets of blood dripped from a large gash in his left brow causing him to shut one eye. “Meena,” he called out again. Everything around him was covered in thick fog and he could not tell which way his body pointed. He tried to open a door but it would not budge. The very same tree the carriage crashed into was blocking it. Slowly he ambled in the other direction and found to his horror the door on the passenger side was gone, and his wife nowhere to be found.“Meena!” Harold yelled as he limped out of the cabin. The fog outside was thicker and his feet sunk into the wet soil but the panicked gentlemen trudged on. Mr. West had never been one for prayer, but at this moment he prayed. Prayed with all his strength that he might find the one he loved alive and unharmed. Something must have heard his prayers for he found her lying in a heap several feet from the mangled carriage. Harold scrambled to his knees and lifted her upper body from the earth. Meena was limp and her skin clammy. The man feared the worst. He placed his ear to her mouth and listened intently. The warmth and sound of wind passing through her parted lips was a welcome sign. She was still breathing, just numb from being thrown from the car by the violent impact.
Harold’s breath was heavy and haggard yet their was relief in his lungs. When he tried to lift his wife from the ground Meena whimpered in pain. He dared not to move her for fear of a concussion. “Darling,” he whispered, “can you hear me? Meena wake up!”
The sound of crunching leaves and footfall wading through the dense foliage of the woods beckoned for his attention. Looking ahead of him the silhouette of an average sized man shrouded behind mist approached. At first Harold thought it was the driver making his way to them, but a second shadow appeared. Soon what he first assumed was a man became the image of two baleful women he had never seen before dressed in skin tight black clothing. In their hands sharp tools forged of metal gleamed.
The Earl of Phantomhive’s assassins found them. In an instant Harold and reached inside his coat pocket while holding on to his precious wife.

~*~
All was black around her. The song of chirping crickets and the occasional croak from a lone frog echoed in the distance. There in a grove of old moss covered oak trees Meena West lay alone and still. Her body refused to move, not even her eyes would part and so in the solemn darkness did she remained.
The creeping hand of something cold against her chest sent chills up her spine. It lingered and loomed surrounding her entire body, whispering to her in a cold hollow voice, biding her to sleep. How much time in this repose was spent, she could not tell but the specter’s voice ever tried to lull her to dream, its grasp never once waning. Soon sleep eternal would whisk her away.
Just as the somber lady was about to become lost an indiscernible voice called to her. The voice echoed out through her ears, and again it called her name. Then something warm and full of life took hold of Meena. The familiar aroma of expensive cologne filled her nostrils, and finally voice of someone she dared not fain love called her darling. If she could move Meena would have cried.
All too soon a deafening explosion rang forth and tore through the peaceful silence. The specter haunting her mind vanished. Meena slowly opened her eyes. A blur of white and green phased in and out until her vision came into focus. Harold was seated above her holding a .45 colt double action revolver, shooting vehemently into the woods. His teeth visibly clenched and the look in his open eye was a mix of desperation and determination.

~*~
A small tarantula watched from the roof of the carriage as two deadly shadows skilfully dodged and swerved out of the path of flying ammunition. One held a large curved saber and the other wielded daggers. The woman holding the daggers somersaulted near the carriage as a bullet splintered one of the wooden wheels.
The arachnid leaped from its perch and landed on the killer’s hand. It sharply bit into exposed flesh causing the woman to flinch. The assailant smacked it away in anger. The eight legged thing flew a short distance and onto the earth beneath. It was quickly crushed under the stiff boot belonging to the assassin.

~*~
His breath was shallow and his sight was obscured from the thick blanket of white. Round after of round of copper blazed from his pistol. His arm and shoulder jerked back with each pull of the trigger.
He cursed himself. How could let it happen? Where did they come from? Was the driver a spy for the Earl Phantomhive? None of it mattered now. He had sworn to protect the most precious person in his life and now fate put him to the test.
The targets were agile and fast. It was difficult to focus on one, because the other would charge once he took his aim of her. His blood soaked hair clung to the side of his cheek and his left eye stung from the scarlet dye. Despite the confusion, despite his disadvantage he managed to drive one of them back into the fog.
Click, click, click, the revolver was out of ammo. ‘Damn it!’ The deadly woman saw her opportunity and swiftly charged the defenceless man with her blade ready for the final slash.
‘I failed. I failed, I can’t protect you.’ Certain that this would be his last breath the destitute man closed his eyes. ‘Meena please forgive me.’ The saber halted mere inches from his skull. Thud! The woman in front of him fell to her knees. Harold eye parted after he realized he was still breathing. His would be executioner lay dead on the ground. A dagger was lodged in her spine.
The second assassin appeared from the mist. Her expression was blank and her eyes glazed over as she walked towards him holding the sharp instrument of death in her hand. The battered man laid his wife down and grabbed the saber from the corpse’s hand. He rose to feet and threaten her with sharp growl, “Come any closer and I’ll cut you down!”
The woman ignored him and pressed on. A few more feet she would be in striking range. Seeing this the gentlemen ran towards his foe. The killer simply ducked his first slash. When he swung again she side stepped it and continued forward.
‘Is she toying with me?’ Harold lunged again causing the killer to jump sideways. ‘Why did she kill her friend?’ It soon dawn upon him. She wasn’t interested in him at all. It was Meena she was after. The man’s brow furled from anger and he gallantly charged the woman again, forcing her further back from his beloved. Just as he cornered against her near the large hollowed out trunk of a tree she took him by surprised. A powerful roundhouse kicked landed across his jaw making him fall and skid backwards into the grove. He lost the sword as he tumbled but landed softly on something in the bushes.
Breathing harshly Harold lifted his head to see. The driver’s corpse had broken the fall. His neck was torque at an ungodly angle, most likely from being thrown against a tree. Harold’s eyes widen when he saw a derringer pistol hanging from a holster on the man’s belt.

~*~
Everything happened so quickly. Shots being fired, Harold recklessly running towards an attacker, and then disappearing into the woods. The waking world was still hazy. Shaking, Meena tried to get up but her knees gave way causing her to crash down back to the earth. Her hair was completely disheveled, lightly covered with dead leaves. and her clothes were tattered. .
A twig behind her loudly snapped. Meena looked into the fog and hoped that it would be him. Hoped she would see Harold would emerge from the dense foliage with his silly grin, that he would come to rescue her from this dark hole.
“No!” Meena whimpered.
Another came from the fog instead. A woman with fair skin and long black hair ran at full speed towards her. Again Meena tried to rise only to fall once more. The assassin leaped into the air with both arms raised overhead, both hands clutching the dagger. Meena froze as the fear and glinting blade mesmerized her.
With all might Harold who was running from woods rammed himself into the side of his wife’s attacker. Both bodies crashed into the ground, toppling over and over along woodland floor until finally they careened to a stop. “Stay away from her!” Harold bellowed.
The woods echoed with a lone gunshot.
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Aster Vow