Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Gilded	By : tinkerheck Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 3151 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, aka Black Butler. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
++++++++ Please see disclaimer & story notes in chapter one ++++++++

++++++++ chapter notes ++++++++

I fly beta-less. Please forgive the typos.

As always, thanks for reading.

 

+

 

Gilded

Chapter 14

 

+

“Miss, it is time to wake up.”

My voice was ever-pleasant as I placed a palm on Gilda’s upper arm and squeezed it gently. She groaned, as she always did after an afternoon nap, but finally, reluctantly, opened those beautiful dark green eyes and looked up at me.

“I was dreaming about bunnies.” She was shy, yawning and stretching in my embrace. “Dark brown ones with long floppy ears and white feet.”

“Lops. Very sweet creatures.” I pushed the hair from her eyes and kissed her. “They make a nice soup in a pinch, as well.”

Gilda said nothing. She simply winced and then smirked, silently acknowledging the fact that she was laying in bed with a demon.

+

I woke her early enough so that I could take my time and not rush through one single part of our routine. The added benefit, of course, was that the longer I took to get her ready, the more relaxed she was likely to remain.

We chatted easily through her bath and while I dried her abundant hair. Then I had her sit on the bed while we started on the underclothes.

Lovely little boy-short black lace panties were even lovelier on her bath-fresh body. There was no brassiere for this gown, and as usual being topless around me didn’t faze her in the in least.

Next we came to putting the sheer black silk stockings on her strong legs. Toes, ankles, knees, thighs; I kissed each part delicately before sliding the soft silk over her skin, making her giggle softly, then I attached the garter belts. I stood up, looking down and sighing at my handiwork as it lay before me on her comfy bed.

One of her requests when we purchased her ensemble in New York was that she not be wearing anything – gown, shoes or otherwise – that would distract her while playing because of discomfort.

“How are the intimates, Miss? No itching or chafing?”

“They’re perfect, Alex. Feels great, actually.”

“Excellent.” I offered her my empty hands and she placed hers in mine. Pulling her up, I said, “Let’s get started on your hair.”

She sat still in a backless chair while I combed her hair out. I gave the ends a quick trim, same as I did every month. Clad only in her panties and stockings, I noticed Gilda’s nipples had tightened.

“Miss is warm enough?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. A bit chilly is good, actually, because I don’t want to start sweating before the gown.”

“Very good.”

“Alex…?”

“Yes Miss?”

She hesitated before asking, “What will happen to Cat and Ink and the others?”

I stopped sectioning off her hair and looked at her. Getting down to one knee, I put my hand on her thigh and stroked her stocking-covered skin with my thumb.

“Please do not worry. There is no need to think about such things as that right now. I will see to everything. I will not neglect any of my promises to you.” I paused as she looked down at me. “Do you believe me?”

She gave me a small smile. “Yes.” Gilda leaned over and kissed me on my forehead.

How many times had I done that to her over the months? And now here she was, using the same affection to convince me of something.

“Thank you, Miss.”

I gave her an upsweep, of course, utilizing the fancy hair clips. The style would stay put nicely, so as not to get on her nerves while playing, and it would look beautiful with her gown. She smiled at me in the mirror as I put the finishing touches on it, admiring my work.

“Good?”

“It’s beautiful, Alex. Really, I never knew I had such nice hair until you came along.”

“All it needed to blossom was to have some attention paid to it, Miss… just like you.” I whispered this in her ear, and she blushed for me. Her nipples grew tighter, magenta flooded her pretty skin, and I congratulated myself.

I went to get her a nice, cold glass of orange juice while she did her make up. Coming back up, I noticed she remained conservative with her cosmetics and chose to apply them using my every recommendation. Good girl.

There was also no lipstick. Yet.

“Let’s get you into the gown,” I said, smiling cheerfully. I could barely contain myself; she was going to be the loveliest recitalist there!

She took my hand and we stepped her into the garment.

It was made entirely of black silk. The bodice was a lightweight shantung, sleeveless with a moderately draped, not-too-low v-neck, and slightly fitted. Several buttons down the low back held her in, as opposed to a zipper. Clearly a garment that required assistance getting into. My favorite sort.

The skirt was layered in silk tulle, and I hemmed it to just slightly above her ankles in the front, with a moderate train in the back.

Two-inch patent leather black pumps, very conservative, completed the look. As she stood in front of the full-length mirror, I reached around her neck to put on the finishing touch: her new necklace.

She took a deep breath and tilted her head.

“Well, Miss? What do we think?”

Gilda bit her lip and blushed as she looked herself over in the mirror. She smoothed down the pristine bodice with her palms, feeling the smooth fabric against her flat abdomen. Shaking her head, she smiled at me for a long time before speaking.

“I think you’ve taken a sow’s ear and made it into a–”

“Ah, no no,” I scolded. “No biblical references, if you please. And you have never been a sow’s ear, Mistress. I’d only go so far as to say you were a bit of a slob before I whipped you into shape.”

“So true,” she giggled, tearing up the tiniest bit. “Jesus… I look like an adult,” she said, voice incredulous. “When did that happen?”

“Silly girl,” I said, coming forward and quickly wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes. “You’ve never been a child, or have you not yet realized that?”

She leaned her face into the palm of my hand and closed her eyes. “Alex…”

“Do not cry. Your make-up will run,” I whispered. When she opened her eyes I was smirking at her.

“Yes, Alexander.”

I looked her up and down appreciatively. Had she been an ‘available’ girl, suitors would have been lining up outside the front door just to see if they stood a chance with such a talented beauty.

But of course, she was mine, and she always would be.

“Are you ready to go? We are a bit early, but perhaps that is a good thing.”

“Yes,” she nodded at me. She licked her still-naked lips. “I’ll be down in a minute, okay?”

I nodded, knowing what she was about to do, but I politely obeyed the rules of that particular game and did not address it.

“Of course, Miss. Please, take your time. I will just bring the limo around front, and then I will be in the foyer, awaiting you.”

Forever, if need be.

Keeping my lustful eyes on hers, I bowed at the waist, which was something I rarely did anymore when we were alone. She smiled, and I headed downstairs.

Gilda did take her time, and from the bottom of the stairs, I heard her opening and closing a few drawers before sitting back down at her vanity to apply her lipstick. When done, she rose, but remained in her room for a little while longer before descending the stairs. I heard her sigh. She was probably feeling a little bit of nostalgia or bittersweet sentimentality as she looked over her lovely bedroom, no doubt committing to memory the moments we had shared together; dressing her in front of the mirror, getting to know her in the bathtub… and in her bed.

I remember hoping that her bed would hold my greatest joy, and eventually, it did. It is always nice when a plan works out, yes?

I chuckled at how such a tender-hearted reminiscence was unnecessary. True, my tummy was grumbling, but I still wanted more from Gilda – more sex, more blood, more music… and oh gods, definitely more love – before I decided on an appropriate moment to conclude our contract and consume her.

For the time being, at least, her affections more than made up for my hunger, so she wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

+

Dean Manners, still so grateful for Gilda’s patronage with the party, was gracious enough to give me the seat next to him in the front row of the concert hall at the conservatory. It was empty for now, as Gilda (and I, her ‘assistant’) were instructed to wait stage left until they announced her name from the stage.

The audience was filled with friends and family of the recitalists, the conservatory staff, as well as talent scouts and a few outside professionals. For Gilda’s part, I was there, as well as Evelyn and Michael. Uncle Rafael was in the audience for “both his kids, Fortune and Gillie”. Gilda also invited Grell Sutcliff, who was oddly subdued when he came backstage to wish her luck as she waited in the ladies’ dressing room. He brought her red roses (of course) and kissed her cheek, before leaving to take his seat next to Uncle Rafael.

“That was weird,” she’d said. “I mean the roses are lovely and I’m glad he’s here, but… It’s like he’s depressed or something.”

“One can never tell with that individual, Mistress,” I said, sneering at the door he’d departed out of.

“Jealous?” she asked, teasing.

“Yes, I am. I want all of your love, not most of it.”

She just smiled and shook her head.

Fortunado Fernandez had already performed his gaucho piece earlier and had done very well, though this final was not as big a part of his grade and he was much more relaxed than my Young Miss. For him, this was just playing a song he’d written on his guitar. When Sutcliff leapt to his feet and shouted Hurrah you lovely young boy, hurrah at the end of Fortune’s piece, Dean Manners looked back, trying to locate the commotion. He just caught Uncle Rafael standing next to Grell, applauding and crying. Another look of recognition passed over the Dean’s face, but much to my relief, he shook his head and let it go.

Linda Derricott’s concerto was, shall we say, contrived at best. No great surprise there. The look on her face was priceless when she bowed at the end and caught me in the front row, clapping unenthusiastically for her lackluster performance. I kept searching the audience for her parents after she left the stage, hoping to see Norman Bellows’ accomplice, but to no avail. I honestly think they were not in attendance.

Now backstage, Gilda and I waited alone for the host to introduce the premiere of her concerto. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, impatient and nervous. Little ringlets of light brown hair fell loose from her upsweep and cascaded down her bare back, springing up and down with her movements. I was momentarily distracted by this lovely sight until she groaned quietly.

Placing a reassuring hand on her back, I rubbed tiny circles between her shoulder blades.

“I have no doubt that you will be the standout performer tonight, Miss.”

She exhaled. I felt her body shaking under my hand.

“You are very tense. I wish I could help.”

Gilda bit her luscious lower lip, then said, “It’s just nerves. I’ll be all right once I sit down and touch the keys. Really.”

“You are more worried about the walk to the piano than you are about playing it?” I teased, chuckling.

She turned her head back to face me and smirked. “Don’t make fun. Why do you think I asked for this number to be hemmed high enough to expose the damn shoes? We can’t all be as graceful as you are, butler.”

“Miss,” I said warmly, “Such a sweet compliment.”

She bit her lip again, and I leaned in closer to give her a soft kiss. My lips ghosted over hers; the last thing I wanted to do was ruin her make-up or get her all worked up before this, her soon-to-be greatest performance.

She shivered again. I removed a cedar heart from where I had been hiding it in a trouser pocket, and held it up between two fingers for her to see. She smiled warmly, and I slipped the smooth, fragrant wood into the neckline of her gown, pushing it in until it was secure in her bodice and close to her own rapidly beating heart. My fingertips intentionally caressed the side of a breast as I slid them out from her gown.

“Do you see, Miss?” I whispered. “I do not lie. I am always with you.” I traced my fingertips up to her neck, then slid my hand behind her ear. “Even while you are playing your concerto.”

Gilda stared hard at my mouth, and I kissed her again, still softly but with a little more conviction. She had stopped trembling, at least, although her heart was beating faster than normal.

I felt the presence of someone on the stairs behind us then, and whoever it was had stopped. I couldn’t concentrate enough on their breathing pattern or their scent to try and recognize them, not while sampling Gilda’s delicious mouth.

But, I was living recklessly these days, and I didn’t care. Whoever it was, they could decide for themselves what they saw and that was that.

“I must go to my seat now, Miss.” Removing my hand from her neck, I checked her over. She looked so lovely. “Play this concerto for me. Just for me.”

She nodded. She still looked frightened, but there was only so much I could do. I squeezed her hand and stepped away from her, moving towards the stairs.

I was not surprised to find Fortunado Fernandez standing on them, as still as a statue.

“Mr. Fernandez,” I said quietly, too quiet for Gilda to hear. “Your gaucho piece was very entertaining. It was exciting, and you played it very well.”

“Thank you…” he said, drifting off, looking towards the stage.

He had seen Gilda and I kissing each other, obviously.

“Speak your mind, if you will sir.”

The boy swallowed, looking back at me.

“I admit that I wasn’t sure, which way you…”

“Swing?” I asked, unable to stop myself from putting him on the spot, if only a little. “As was my Mistress.”

He nodded. “Well. I see,” he said, politely, smiling.

“No, I’m afraid you do not,” I started, reaching out to brush the side of his face with the back of my gloved knuckles for only a moment. “Not everything is as it seems, yes?”

“Yeah,” he said, putting a hand to where I had just touched him. “Okay, yeah. I get it. But Alex… This isn’t acceptable in most circles. Not everyone is going to be as lenient as me.”

“Really? And here I thought America was making great strides in its acceptance of people who are not strictly heterosexual.”

“Not from where I stand they aren’t. But… that wasn’t what I meant. I was talking about you being Gillie’s butler.”

“Oh… yes,” I said, surprised. I had forgotten that part. Having tasty, illicit sex with your employer for over a month tends to change your attitude about role definitions on the job.

“Look, I’m all right with it. I’ve had my suspicions about you two since she told me the title of her composition… but you’re a great guy and you care for her. I can tell. Just don’t…” he closed his eyes, looking down at his feet for a moment. “Don’t hurt her. She’s been through enough already.”

“I assure you, Mr. Fernandez, I wouldn’t ever…” I paused, briefly, reforming my statement. “The last thing I will ever do to Miss Franks is hurt her.”

There. Not a lie. Quite true, actually.

Fortunado Fernandez nodded again, slowly.

“Good. That makes me happy.”

“Are you on your way up to see her then?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, “Just wanted to wish her well.”

“Will you stay with her? She is still nervous and could use your presence in particular right now. I must take my seat.” Pausing, I added, “But please keep this new knowledge to yourself, yes? At least until the recital is over. She would be very embarrassed, and right now is not the time for that.”

“I can do that. Not a problem.”

I put my hand out for a shake. “Thank you, Mr. Fernandez.”

He complied, smiling cheerfully. With that, I turned and headed for my seat next to Dean Manners.

+

As expected, Gilda stole the night from everyone else. I heard the Dean sigh with satisfaction during the middle of her cadenza, and that was when I knew her marks were going to be quite high.

She got a standing ovation, and when she bowed politely in her gown and straightened back up, there was a bittersweet smile on her lips. Her eyes sought me out, and they stayed on me until she left the stage.

There was a small after party for all the graduates and their guests. Gilda hugged me in public, and I did not care one bit. After shaking the Dean’s hand and receiving kisses and hugs from the Fernandez men, Evelyn and Michael, she sought out Sutcliff, but was disappointed when I confirmed that he had left as I could no longer sense him in the building. I found it odd that he would leave a party with so many pretty, eligible men as well, and that made me wonder.

She drank a bit too much alcohol, but it didn’t matter. Even if I had planned on doing it tonight, I wouldn’t eat her soul if she were inebriated. I like for the prey to be focused. I preferred it when they knew.

She said her goodbyes to all her friends and instructors, and they sounded a bit too final, to my ears, at least. The party broke up, and with her precious, hard-won certificate in her hand, I escorted my Miss to the limo well after sunset. When we got to the small set of stairs going from the main campus to the parking lot, she hesitated.

“Maybe if I take off the heels…”

“Nonsense,” I said cheerfully, and picked her up in my arms. I took the entire stairwell in one giant leap, and landed softly on the sidewalk below. She wore a cheesy grin, the one that only shows up when I do something death-defying with her in my arms. I continued to carry her to the limo, and she seemed content.

“Here we are, Miss,” I said as I set her down. She sighed heavily, smiling up at me, and smoothed her dress. “Are you ready?”

She grinned at me, but looked confused. “Oh… Yeah, did you want to do it right now?” Gilda closed her eyes and tilted her head back, as though giving me clear access to her neck. I frowned. Did she honestly think I would end her life in a parking lot? How crass.

She was trembling on top of it, adrenaline rushing through her body, making her shake like a pretty little leaf.

“Mistress.” My voice was gentle, and I took one of her hands in mine.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, “I’m ready. Go ahead.” Her voice was cracking like a pubescent boy.

I shut my eyes and shook my head, sighing. “No, my dear. I am not going to eat your soul in public place. When the moment comes,” and I refused to elaborate further on what I truly meant by that, “there will be soft lighting and pleasant surroundings, and I will take my time, if you please.”

“But, Alexander… Shouldn’t we just get it over with?” She frowned.

I took her in my arms and kissed her then, because I simply couldn’t wait any longer. She stiffened at first, probably forgetting that I actually needed to wound her before I could drink the elixir that was her soul. When she realized that I wasn’t trying to bite her to death, she relaxed and kissed me back.

“You taste like champagne,” I teased, rubbing my lips against hers.

She giggled. Now that she knew it was not going to happen immediately, she began to tease. “What about the back of the limo? You’ve eaten me lots back there before, and that always went really well. Why break with tradition?”

Gilda, I have decided, would be the death of me.

I had to stop myself from laughing. “Mistress, I do have some pride. And speaking of pride I won’t eat your soul while you are inebriated, either. Right now I just want to get you home.”

I gave her a gentle push and she took my hand. Gathering her skirts, she sat down on the leather seat and smiled up at me.

After shutting her door, I took my own seat and turned the engine over. I adjusted my mirrors and my chauffer’s hat, as per the handbook. Then I turned in my seat to face her. “Ready, Mistress?” I asked, smiling.

“Let’s go,” she said, slightly nervous but very determined.

+

“Hey, Alex… pull in here,” she said, pointing to the parking lot of a convenience store. “I want a cheeseburger for my last meal,” she said, teasing. “These guys make a great burger.”

The ramshackle restaurant was still open despite there being no other customer’s vehicles in the lot and the late hour, so I did as she asked. I’d have rather taken her home and made her a sandwich myself, but her stomach was growling.

She truly believed her life was going to end when I got her home. I felt any further deception on my part would be bad form, and I needed clear the air. I stopped some distance from the establishment, and put the limo in park.

It was now or never.

Turning to face her through the little window, I found that Gilda was smirking at me and tugging on her hair. She’s a bit blotto. And she’s flirting. How cute.

“Miss Gilda, I know you are on cloud nine after such a fine performance, and are still giddy from the champagne. But I need for you to be serious for a moment. I have something to discuss with you.”

“All right, all right.” She laughed lightly. Her stomach growled again. “But I’m super starving, so go get the burger first… pretty please? You can talk while I eat, and then you can drive me home and then you can eat me. Sound good?”

She’s referring to her soul, but I’m thinking about her pinker parts. Sounds delectable either way.

Gilda scooted forward on the bench set, until she could curl her hands on the frame of the sliding glass window. She rested her chin on her fingers and looked up at me mischievously, tilting her head.

“Please get me a cheeseburger? Pretty please?”

So very fetching.

I placed a palm on her cheek, feeling the flush in her blood from the champagne. She was trembling still, as well.

“You are shaking, my dear.”

“I’m still nervous.”

“You have nothing to fear,” I said, “Literally.”

Gilda looked at me for a moment, then her eyes grew very wide and she grinned.

“Oh my gawd! You’re gonna wait, aren’t you?” I closed my eyes and exhaled. Must she always figure out what I’m trying to say to her before I say it?

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea, Alex?”

“Mistress, It disturbs me that you are in such a rush to end your existence here on earth.”

“Oh, I’m not, really,” she sing-songed. “But you’re famished, remember? It’ll just give me a chance to do as much for you as you’ve done for me. ‘Sides,” she started, sighing softly. “I’ve had a really good run these past nine months. It was shit for twenty years before you came along, but… Yeah. You made up for all that. Very exciting.”

“Be that as it may… Now that you have ascertained my plan, we will discuss this when I get you home. Preferably while you are naked and lying underneath me in bed.” Gilda giggled, and when I leaned in to give her a kiss, lightening struck, interrupting us. She squeaked at the sudden, violent sound, and I looked up.

“Good Lord, It’s begun to rain, again.” Looking out the window, I saw the trees were swaying in a slight wind.

Gilda shrugged. “Upstate New York, Alex. We get lotsa thunderstorms this time of year.” Her eyes were glassy as she smiled at me.

“You’re simply adorable when you are tipsy, Miss.” She giggled again, and I managed a peck on her forehead. “Stay in the limo. I will get your silly sandwich.”

No sooner had I turned and opened the driver’s door when I heard gunshot. Two slugs slammed into the door near my hand. I gaped, then shut the door, and scrambled into the back seat, covering Gilda with my body.

“Oh my god–”

More shots were heard, and bullets ricocheted off the roof of the limo.

“Are you kidding me? We’re being shot at?!”

I growled, angry that we were stuck like this. I could take several hits and not die. The limo was bullet proof, but there was only so much it could take. It was Gilda that had to be protected.

“Stay down, please, Miss,” I said quietly, trying not to alarm her as I moved to get up.

“Don’t leave!”

“We are as sitting ducks. The glass and panels are bullet proof, but this vehicle cannot withstand a hail of ammo. I will not sit idle and wait for whoever it is to shoot their way to you.”

“But–”

More bullets, these hit the back window and trunk.

“Do not leave the vehicle, Mistress. Please, do as I ask. Get down and stay put.”

She looked terrified. She should be.

Gilda nodded and pressed herself to the floor of the limo in front of the bench seat.

“Very good, Miss,” I whispered to her. “No matter what you hear, do not leave the limousine.”

I crawled over her as quickly as I could, and got ready to exit through the driver’s door. It was pouring rain now. When I heard two more shots hit the back right tire, I opened the door and slid out.

I just managed to shut the door when it hit me.

No, not a bullet, but a large trash receptacle. It happened in mere seconds. It was moving unnaturally fast, probably because it was being pushed by none other than Grell Sutcliff. I was pinned to the side of the disgusting box, and my ribs were crushed when he slammed it into the wall of the restaurant with me in the middle. I’d heal quickly enough and rip his head off later – it was that damn gunman I was more concerned about.

“And Grell Sutcliff pushed harder, breaking more of the demon’s bones and puncturing his vital organs.”

The voice was familiar. I was just about to ask where the Undertaker was hiding when Sutcliff followed suit on what the maniac had said, and I felt broken ribs poke into my lungs and stomach. I spit up blood, but managed to grunt at him.

“Sutcliff, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Bassie!” he cried, loud and miserable like a baby. “I can’t help it! He’s my supervisor!”

“Reaper Sutcliff, do press harder. We need to get a move on.”

William T. Spears. I should have known.

Spears was standing next to the Undertaker, holding an umbrella over the maniac as he gleefully wrote in a cinematic record – Gilda’s I presumed – with that damn pink bookmark holding his place.

A sense of doom came over me. Disgusting, interfering, holier-than-thou bastards…

“Gilda Franks, now desperately afraid, decides to leave the vehicle…”

“No,” I spat, terrified. They were trying to get her shot.

But why?

My black heart sank as the door to the Limo opened, and my Mistress came out, staying low on her feet. Sutcliff pushed harder against the receptacle, breaking my body even further. He winced, whispering, “I’m just following orders, Sebas-chan… Don’t hate me. It’ll be all right.”

“Alex? Alex! Where are you?!” I watched as Gilda put a hand above her forehead, trying to stop the rain from hitting her in the eyes.

The undertaker switched the Death Bookmark to another record, and spoke aloud as he wrote, “Norman Bellows sees his daughter, and steps forward to confront her.”

Oh, gods… No.

I growled, blood in my mouth, pushing back against the trash bin.

“Grell Sutcliff! Pay attention!” Spears chastised, nodding at me. Sutcliff had been watching Gilda with a forlorn look on his face, but when Spears yelled at him, he looked back at me. He gasped, and rammed the receptacle into my ribs again. Whatever had healed in me, he broke it again, and then some.

The Undertaker giggled. He removed the bookmark from what I assumed was Bellows’ record, and shut both books, eager to watch how this played out.

An arc of light against wet metal appeared about twenty feet in front of Gilda. She jumped as she recognized her father, and panicked when she saw the gun in his hand. Clumsy in her layered skirt and dripping with rain, she twisted her ankle when she turned to get away, and fell to the pavement.

Bellows stepped closer to her, looking insane with rage. When Gilda turned to face him, he fired off one shot, right into her belly.

Gilda screamed, then fell over onto her side.

“Norman Bellows,” Spears said, and Gilda’s father looked at him like a brainless robot. The Reaper nodded. “You are done here. Leave. Now.”

With that, Bellows disappeared.

Spears adjusted his glasses, and walked up to Gilda’s body.

“I know you…” Gilda managed, staring up at Spears.

“Indeed you do,” he said, crouching to look at her. Disgusted that he was that close to my Mistress, I strained with everything I had to get free.

Gilda’s body jerked suddenly, and she arched like she was experiencing a fit. I felt my blood boil, and I promised myself that someday, somehow, I’d kill William T. Spears. Right after I killed Gilda’s father.

Spears tilted his head at her twisted form. When she stopped seizing, she lay on her back, looking up at him. mouthing something. Spears nodded, then rose, and walked past Sutcliff like he was taking a stroll through a city park. “You can let the demon go, now, Reaper Sutcliff,” he said casually.

“A–Are you sure, Will? He looks awfully mad…” Sutcliff sounded like he was about to cry.

He should be crying. I was finally going to make him into a girl. The permanent way.

“Let him go, Grell. Honestly.”

The receptacle eased away from me, and my body fell to the ground. The pain was intense, but only momentary, as I felt ribs finally knitting back together and organs healing. I got to my knees, then stood. Using the side of the receptacle as support, I looked up to glare at Sutcliff, who decided to run and hide behind Spears.

I wanted very much to kill the three of them, but if Gilda was dying, I needed to conclude our business together… whether I wanted to or not.

Still healing, I staggered back to her. Getting down on my knees, I took her in my arms.

“Butler,” Gilda said, sounding disgusted. She grunted as she clutched at my sodden jacket with cold, thin fingers. She looked up at me, and her face was very angry.

“I am so sorry, Miss. So very sorry,” I said, and my voice sounded miserable.

“Shut up, you fool. I only have so long. Now, eat, dammit!” She grunted again, and the most adorable, stubborn, familiar expression filled her lovely face. “Eat, Sebastian! Now!”

My eyes widened as I finally realized what they had done.

“…Master…?”

It was Gilda’s face. Gilda’s body. It was Gilda’s pretty voice, but with Ciel’s uppercrust English accent. Frantic, I ripped away the bodice of her gown to reveal– yes, her mark was still there. I saw Gilda’s contract mark, but this was Ciel’s soul.

It was Ciel Phantomhive that was speaking to me now.

“What is this? Master? How is this possible?”

“Pa… Pawn,” he finally blurted out. “Used her.”

Gilda – Ciel – cried out in pain. I pressed a hand to her – his abdomen, over the bullet wound. Suddenly, a cinematic record began to rise up from the body that I held, and I honestly had no idea as to whose it was, Gilda’s or Ciel’s.

Ciel pushed my hand out of the way, and clenched his teeth, hissing. The record stalled in its rise, and fought with his will, but he was doing it. He began to rewind the cursed film back into Gilda’s dying body.

He’s done that before…

“Hurry up, boy,” Spears said, scolding.

I glared up at Spears for a moment.

“Sebastian… idiot,” Ciel cried, “No time. Hurry.”

I frowned. Taking the back of Gilda’s neck in my palm, I put a hand to her face and forced Ciel’s soul to focus on me.

“Is this what you want? Are you sure you want this?”

And where is my poor Mistress?

He cried out again, and it was like a knife through my black heart. I’ve seen many humans die of bullet wounds over the years; slugs in the gut were slow, and particularly painful.

“Hurry!” he shrieked, and it was all that I could take. I had no idea what this would mean for Gilda, but I couldn’t bear losing Ciel twice.

I lifted Gilda’s body, lowering my mouth to hers… and drank.

My tongue tasted the tiniest fluttering of Ciel’s soul, and then he practically swam down my throat. He was so eager to embrace the soothing black within, I almost felt like I was choking. Gilda’s hand slackened and fell away from my jacket. I ignored this, and the nagging questions of what had happened to her. I swallowed deep, taking in all of Ciel as quickly as he needed me to. I suckled until there was nothing left for this world to recognize as Ciel Phantomhive.

It was all inside of me.

My poor master – all at once, I knew. I knew of the long, lonely years spent incorporeal, miserable and confused. Unhappy years that had stretched out between the last moment I saw him and now. I knew he had waited. I knew he had planned.

I had loved him, and lost him… but he was finally at rest. Safe within the cocoon I provided, he would never know torture again.

It felt glorious. You cannot know – as a human you cannot possibly know – what it feels like to satiate a centuries-old hunger. I could feel the nourishment of Ciel’s rich soul already filling the hollow cracks inside me that had widened over the long years. I wouldn’t feel the need to eat for a very long time to come after today.

I heaved a happy sigh, turning my face to the raining heavens, scoffing quietly at paradise, forever denied to one such as me. For a moment – just for a few brief, beautiful seconds – I felt nothing but satisfaction.

I’d have stayed in that happy state much longer, but there were voices coming into focus. Spears was yelling at Sutcliff to stop his wailing. The undertaker was giggling and chattering to himself about promises and betrayals as he perused the pages of Gilda’s record like a dirty little voyeur. I wanted to eviscerate the lot of them. Spears stopped yelling at Sutcliff and looked down at the body in my arms. He sighed impatiently.

“You are too late. I do not know where you’ve sent Gilda Franks’ soul, but I have already consumed the boy’s.”

“Oh…? Did you think I was here to collect Ciel Phantomhive? Fool. He’s been dead for over one hundred years. Take another look, Demon.”

I was about to tell him to shut up, when I heard the one thing that could have stopped me: Gilda.

She moaned quietly, and her eyes opened like little slits. I gasped, as I thought her dead–

Gilda inhaled a sharp breath, only to cry out in agony at the bullet in her bowels. She clamped a hand to her gut, the skin bare and slick with rain. I looked down at her stomach, and shock registered through me.

The contract mark was nowhere to be seen. I turned my hand over and checked it as well, and I saw nothing except clear, pale skin. It was Gilda, and she was dying, like any mortally wounded human. Ciel had stolen our contract as surely as he had borrowed her body.

She was free.

Free, yes; to die and be tossed into Hell. The option of taking her soul into me was gone, but the fact that she had contracted with me was still a barrier, and there simply wasn’t enough time left for her to repent for that crime. That sort of thing took years.

I shushed her involuntarily, hopelessly trying to press against the flow of blood with my hands. Even if we contracted, I could not cure this wound. I had to find a way to get her to a hospital before she perished.

“Alex… Why haven’t you–” she asked, pain suddenly tearing at her pretty voice. All I could manage to do was to shake my head at her. Then, her eyes shifted like they were out of focus, and tragically, her cinematic record began to flow from her body.

“No! Mistress!”

Her time had come. I felt that unfamiliar feeling that I hate the most: panic.

“Finally,” I heard William mutter with disgust as he stepped closer.

Grell Sutcliff sank to his knees on the wet pavement of the parking lot, wailing like a six-year-old girl – My poor dear girlfriend, I shall miss my Gillie! – Reaper rules making him unable to interfere with his superior’s actions.

“Why did you do this?” I yelled at Spears.

“Simple. Her soul is very rare.”

“So you killed her for it?” I growled, baring my fangs.

Spears continued blithely. “Why ever are you so upset? Filthy demon. Before now, you were prepared to do just exactly that.”

Prepared?

No, in fact. I wasn’t.

I looked down at Gilda. I gripped her body tighter, but to no avail, her record poured forth. She whispered my name and was trying to focus on me, but it was clear she was fading fast. I hoped she was going into shock. At least it would diminish her pain.

She mouthed something, and I put my ear to her lips. I heard but one word:

“Lipstick.”

I reversed our positions, putting my lips to her ear. Quickly, before it was too late, I whispered something I promised myself I’d never, ever say to her.

“I kept them all, Gilda.”

Pulling back, I stroked the side of her face, hating how cold it felt in the wet rain. She gave me a weak smile, and I forced myself to smile back at her, sweetly, eyes twinkling, cheerful – Oh, my sweet, talented Mistress, my little morsel of a girl, now you are the one that got away…

This was the filthy hair in my delicious soup. It was so good, and so wrong. In a sudden and unexpected upset, I had finally won Ciel Phantomhive’s soul. Even if it was through interference in my contract with Gilda, I’d still won it. It was something I’d mourned for more than a century.

I should feel triumphant, yes? Positively overjoyed.

And yet, looking down at Gilda… knowing she was about to leave me, to be punished in a way that she certainly did not deserve – it put a chill on my victory. After all, the only salve to the pain of losing Ciel, Earl of Phantomhive had been the discovery of Gilda Louise Franks.

I wanted them both, you see. And I could only have the one.

As I sat with Gilda’s precious, dimming life in my hands, I was stunned into silence. William took hold of his Death Scythe and snipped clean through her cinematic record, separating it from her body. Her record flew up into the sky, wildly darting about, looking for a place to perch. Here Spears paused, looking up and letting the cold rain wash across his handsome features. The light from Gilda’s record played across the flat plane of his Reaper lenses as it danced through the dark sky.

With that, Spears leapt into the air, forcibly gathering Gilda’s struggling record into his garden shears. Quickly, I looked down at her, and she squeezed the hand I was pressing over her wound. She gasped just once, a desperate look on her face, and I heard her heart come to a stop in her chest.

She was gone.

And then so was William T. Spears. The Undertaker giggled perversely and followed him.

The rain had soaked through my chauffer’s uniform, making it uncomfortable and tight. All I could hear was the restaurant’s gutters dripping, and Grell Sutcliff wailing in the background over his lost shopping partner. I glanced over to the side of Gilda’s naked torso. The bodice of her gown lay in ruins on the pavement, and I saw the small cedar heart of earlier nestled in the ripped silk. I closed my eyes.

Gilda’s body was a corpse. Her soul was about to face judgment, and… Ciel was within me. My belly was finally full. But like a man on death row, it is very difficult to enjoy the best meal you have ever eaten when your surroundings are borne of your own personal nightmares.

+

It was a bittersweet ending to a rare contract. Or… contracts, perhaps I should say.

Not everyone is horrified at the thought of oblivion; some find Hell far more threatening. But Gilda found oblivion detestable, and in the end that was one of the many things that put me off from devouring her. I couldn’t stand the thought of doing that to one I held so dear – at least, not until she’d enjoyed her life a bit longer. She’d had so very little of that, you see. My intentions were to simply to steal more time with her, then eat her later in her life. It was the best of both worlds – I could go on loving her in my own way for many more years, and then consume her, as I could never allow one so delicate to flounder in Hell.

She may have been terrified of the nothingness within me, but it was certainly a better choice than Hell. She just wasn’t completely convinced of this before her untimely demise.

I imagine she knows it now.

And that, in fact, was the most significant difference between Ciel and Gilda. Hell had been his worst nightmare, as it proved to be when we actually got there. But he’d told me that he thought he may have found some peace in the black of nothing, and that was why he was never frightened of fulfilling our contract. My goal had become to prove that same thing to Gilda.

Ciel had eventually found his own way out of Hell. I only hoped that oblivion would indeed bring him the peace he so desired.

As for Gilda… I was at a loss. Again.

+

As it was after Ciel had ‘died’, there was work yet to be done for Gilda Franks.

I still had to finish my end of the bargain with Gilda. The contract had been broken, it is true, but I am… I was one hell of a butler. As such, I would not abandon my oath to her. I was despondent as I did so, but I admit that the glow of my recent meal was a viable cure. As the days passed, I finally began to relish Ciel, happy to feel him at peace, and confident that my feast was going to last a very, very long time.

Gilda’s body was cremated. The funeral was quick and private. The mysterious Nancy Sorenson showed up, with a young son in tow. Also attending were Sutcliff, the Fernandez men, Michael Jacobs and Evelyn Shapiro. The fake cook, fake gardener and fake maid had been generously paid months ago for their dirty work, but they all shed honest tears at the service.

The flowers were exquisite.

Having never been allowed to read it before, I found Gilda’s last will and testament to be an extraordinary work of charity. Such things normally disgust me, but the little bitch had pulled one over on me in the process, and I had to respect that.

I am getting ahead of myself. First I should tell you how I found her will.

When I returned to the manor the night of her death to begin cleaning up the loose ends of our contract, I found her very last lipstick blot. Underneath it was a sealed letter, addressed to me.

‘My dearest Alex’, it began, tearing at my black heart with just three simple words.

If you are reading this, it is because I am now gone. I hope that I proved to be as delicious and satisfying a meal as you thought I would be.

I wanted to thank you for contracting with me. You helped me achieve my one personal goal in life, to complete my studies. Whatever happens after, however much we may hate parting, you completely deserve your payment. You were a perfect butler in every way. You were… especially attentive.

How did I refer to it the first time we met? The ‘extras’? I know you claimed that it was all for your own gain, and that it would make my soul all the tastier if I was kept as happy as possible until the end, but…

My God. Did they send you to sex school or something?! ‘How to Boink Humans Properly 101’? I think maybe I know why your fellow demons hate you so much; you must have set the curve in that class.

All crassness aside, I came to love it when you touched me no matter what the reason. I’m sure you could tell. After all the crap I had been through, I didn’t think I had it in me to want that kind of affection from another person anymore. I figured I had to be that way in order to survive.

You changed all that, Alex. I apologize if my clinginess got on your nerves –

– no no no it didn’t it didn’t it didn’t –

– but it was like a floodgate had opened up and I got addicted to it – to you – real fast. In that sense, you kind of saved me. I don’t have any other words for it.

After a slight blush, I almost began to choke up. Almost, for you see, I do not do that.

As to the rest of our contract, I am sure you won’t be surprised to learn that the revenge part was for the benefit of persons other than myself.

Though I have ordered you not to do so in the past, I now order you to go and open the lid to the bench of the piano you gave me. No, there is not a secret unfinished symphony or two of mine in there waiting to be published. I’m pretty sure that’s what you were suspicious of, so I am sorry to disappoint. But, you will soon see why I had to order you not to look.

There you will find a bit of money – cash, actually, that has been separated from the funds in my bank accounts. Do not be too hard on our Mr. Jacobs. He had his own orders from me, to launder it. He was not permitted to tell you that he gave it to me.

A bit of money? I went to the salon and discovered that she had been, literally, sitting on one million, seven hundred and thirty thousand dollars in folding money for months. In fact, it had been laundered so well, I never even smelled it there.

That was a wee joke. Sorry.

I knew that if you were aware I was hoarding it, you’d become suspicious. The truth was I could see that you were beginning to regret our contract coming to an end and were going to put off consuming me. But a deal is a deal, and I had other incentives. Yes, it was very cool seeing my fuck of a father slowly lose his wealth, but that’s just revenge. I hate to tell you Alex, but for a person like me, revenge is a shallow reward.

But, it was also the catalyst you needed to contract with me, so I went ahead and made you think it was the main reason. Sorry for the deception. I am sure you kept some zingers from me as well.

Like being gleeful about the fact that she had been attacked and beaten to what would have been her death? Yes. That had been a monumental secret on my part.

I had, in fact, fantasized about you returning to me for some time before you actually did. I fantasized about other stuff regarding you as well, but I don’t think I need to clarify.

I had three years to figure out what I would do with your offer. I knew you needed to hear the word ‘revenge’ to form a contract, so I worked it into my plans.

All this time you’ve been wondering what those mysterious phone calls to Nancy Sorenson were about. I ordered you not to investigate, that it was my private business.

The truth is, I wanted my father’s money for something else. That being Nancy and her son Neil, also known as my half-brother.

Surprise!

Let me be clear on this, Demon: I order you to make sure Nancy gets this cash. Put it in my hideous canvas bag and give it to her. Make sure Neil gets a new, top of the line cello. And make sure he gets expensive, private tutoring on the damn thing.

So now you know, Neil Sorenson was Nancy’s son with Norman Bellows. I now know that he was also Gilda’s ‘living proof’ that her musical talent did indeed come from her father’s bloodline; it turns out that Neil is a mean cellist.

Like Gilda before I came into her life, Nancy and her son had been living just below the poverty level – the sad result of Gilda’s father leaving yet another pregnant woman for the good of his career. Norman Franks had left a wake of disasters behind him on his way to wealth, and in my opinion, he’d gotten the bloody, painful end that he deserved– Oh! I get ahead of myself again. Heh.

This being the ‘digital age’, I could not simply hand Miss Sorenson a huge sum of greenbacks. Gilda had been naïve about that. But Michael and Evelyn took care of the details. After the funeral, I gave Nancy that wretched canvas bag, and here I learned that it had been hers as a girl, and she gave it to Gilda when she started her education at the conservatory, thinking it would come in handy.

That’s what all the fuss had been about. She could have just told me.

Now that I think about it, I still would have ridiculed her for it.

When I handed Nancy the papers to her new bank accounts along with a vague explanation, the woman had the good sense not to ask too many questions, but she did cry. When little Neil asked his mother what was wrong, she told him that his sister had just saved their lives.

If you fail in doing this, I will give you the worst, longest case of indigestion you have ever had in your immortal existence.

I laughed. If any of my meals could figure out how to do that to me, it would have been Gilda.

In any case, I have to say goodbye to you now. I want you to know how difficult that is going to be for me. You warned me not to fall in love with you, that you could not return those feelings. Alex, I told you I would be okay with that. Why didn’t you believe me? My heart didn’t break, because I know you came to love me the only way you are capable.

Don’t be upset that you eventually did to me what demons do.

Thanks, Alex. Or whatever your name is. ;)

Written vernacular. That’s a wink, correct? My little minx.

You were the best time of my life.

Gilda

+

Gilda’s clothing was left to Grell Sutcliff. For one nauseatingly long afternoon, I was subject to him modeling the lot. As payment for having me as his captive audience, I made him promise to spit in William Spears’ face when he got back to the office. I’ve never seen the Gay Red Reaper quite so speechless.

The remainder of her estate was another matter, and to this, she had concocted a careful back-up plan with Uncle Rafael, completely unbeknownst to me until I read that damn letter.

“I told her she was bein’ morbid, worrying about getting killed. But she knew. Even before she got attacked in the pool that night. Somehow, she knew,” he told me at the funeral.

What I didn’t tell him, of course, was that the murder she was anticipating was to come from yours truly.

Uncle Rafael was instructed to have Michael Jacobs separate just enough funds from the main account that would be easily overlooked, launder those funds again, and then give it as cash to Gilda for safekeeping in the manor. That explained her private conversations with Jacobs. The little mix had embezzled from her own embezzled funds! If – when – she were – was – to be killed, that cash was to go to Nancy Sorenson. The rest of her estate would surely be investigated and seized, but the cash given to Nancy would be free and clear and safe.

Upon further investigation into her murder, it would be discovered that Gilda had embezzled from her father, placing guilt on her head. Rafael, Michael Jacobs and Evelyn Shapiro were all safe from blame, as they had never used their real identities during the embezzling and laundering. Only Bellows had seen their faces and knew who they really were, and he wasn’t a problem anymore. Yes – I’m getting to that.

Gilda got her wish on all that.

But the rest of it was not as tidy, given the little wrench that Spears and my beloved Ciel threw into the pot… Still, Uncle Rafael and I managed.

I told Rafael that I was going to kill Bellows and leave town.

What can I tell you? I was furious with the man. Not as furious as I was with William T. Spears, but still. Additionally, it made sense for everyone else concerned – because dead men tell no tales. Rafael knew I was angry, and not only did he not try to stop me, he helped.

Back when it had all happened, the restaurant employees had hit the ground when the shooting started, so they were no good to the police. But with myself and Grell Sutcliff as expert witnesses to the crime (after I ‘convinced’ the Reaper he was going to talk to them, whether he liked it or not), Gilda’s father was apprehended and jailed within a few days.

However, with a little help from Rafael and his ‘friends’, I relieved the burden of law-abiding tax-paying citizens such as yourself from having to pay for Norman Bellows’ continued existence while he was still in police custody. Yes, that means what you think it does. Another freebie on my part.

In any case, I scared the hell into him, so to speak. He lay on the floor of his cell and died within minutes after the heart attack. I’d wanted to do much worse to him, but I’d promised Gilda that I would never touch him, so I didn’t.

I stood carefully out of the way of the cameras in the facility, but I am sure there was enough there to form a picture. And I already had motive for his murder: the butler, loyal to the end, perhaps a little smitten, grieving over his lost Mistress, going after her killer and taking justice into his own hands. Sooner or later the finger would point at me, the only other known person in this little puzzle.

Gilda was dead. I was wanted for Bellows’ murder. But everyone else would be safe.

Gilda had planned her own guilt, all to save Nancy and give Neil a chance. She’d taken advantage of her money to a degree, and only after much convincing on my part that she should. But the only thing she truly ever took for herself was her conservatory certificate.

I was just a perk. One that she fell in love with.

Stupid girl. Stupid, sweet girl.

+

After I killed Bellows, Uncle Rafael hid me in his own home. His plan was to give me a chunk of cash and get me a new identity by the next day, sending me off with enough funds to live comfortably somewhere discreet until he could find me work. I had no plans to actually do any of that, of course, but…

Giving Bellows a heart attack wasn’t enough to satisfy the unsettled feelings roiling around inside me, despite Ciel making me feel quite full. Just in that moment, I needed something more.

Beautiful Fortunado Fernandez proved to be the perfect outlet. I was ‘sleeping’ under his own roof that night, so seducing him would have been easy and convenient – but the boy was already quite distraught at Gilda’s loss, so it was no surprise that we wound up in bed together without me even having to work for it.

I took him dominantly, using the same position I so favored when pleasing Gilda. He gasped softly, and his body contracted so blissfully around my cock that I had to stop from closing my eyes and falling into the fantasy that nothing had gone awry and it was still Gilda beneath me. With minimal coaxing, Fortunado ejaculated into my skilful hands, warm and sticky… and alive. I pulled his body up to lean against mine, polishing off our moment together with a long, sweet kiss.

Do not misconstrue me – he was exquisite to touch and satisfying to gaze down at while I brought him to a grief-ridden ecstasy… but I didn’t lose myself to the situation, not even in the least. It was too soon, and I was still too angry to really enjoy it.

Fortunado began to cry. This did not irritate me too much; indeed, I had expected such a reaction. I simply held him, providing much-needed comfort to his mourning.

“I could tell you loved her, even if a butler isn’t supposed to,” he said to me then, as I wiped his tears away. “It wasn’t just kissing and hand-holding, was it? You did this for her as well, didn’t you?”

I was not bound by any contract with him, so I was free to lie. But I saw no point in it.

“Yes. I loved her. I gave myself to her freely.”

“That’s good. I’m happy to know that. She didn’t get a lot of affection in her life,” the boy said, and his expression clouded over with grief. “She deserved a lot more–”

He sobbed again, and I held him tighter to me.

“She deserved much more than is possible for one such as I to give, Mr. Fernandez. But I offered her whatever I had to give, and she took it… and it made her happy.”

“She was perfect… wasn’t she?” he said through his tears, clinging to me with his arms around my neck.

I paused before answering him. No one is perfect, really, not even cats, but–

“She was damn close.”

I could have just left after dealing with Bellows. By all rights, I should have. But Gilda loved these people, so that seemed a bit too disrespectful to her memory.

I said goodbye, in my own way. After Fortune fell asleep, I left a note on their dining room table, expressing my thanks to the Fernandez household for all they had done, but that I did not want to be any more of a burden to them. I wrote that I was used to this sort of thing, and that they were not to seek me out any further.

The boy would get over me soon enough, and Uncle Rafael already understood the laws of the underworld. He’d respect my wishes.

+

That is my tale.

That was the hefty price of obtaining a worthy soul, and in the end I was not the one that truly paid for it. I am the one to blame. Any other demon would simply congratulate himself, relishing the exquisite meal in his tummy, and then move on as though nothing else mattered.

So why do I feel this way?

My first contract with a worthy soul – indeed my first experience with one – was the Duchess Torylox. It was the beginning of my shtick as a servant as well. Our life together was rigid and organized; only once did I step out of line, and believe me when I say I was punished for it. The Duchess was a force to be reckoned with, cruel and determined, a ‘player’ by the definition of any human’s culture.

Surprisingly, she went quietly in the end. Shame on me to have thought that another soul as worthy as hers would be just as easy to swallow. Convincing me of that was her last, greatest act of deceit.

Lesson learned? Why, that revenge is a dish that is best served cold, of course.

Next came Ciel, Earl of Phantomhive. Desperate to undo the wrongs that had stolen his parents from him, he chose to contract with a demon instead of moving on to the eternal reward of heaven – a reward that was rightly his. He succeeded in his revenge, only to be given the ultimate punishment: being re-born as a demon himself.

Essentially altered from who he was and miserable with his fate, he brought about his own death at the hands of another… then floundered as a homeless soul for over a hundred years. I can only believe that the strength of his fierce will is what saved him, as he was lucky not to have gone mad.

Lesson learned – Be careful what you wish for.

Then there is Gilda Franks. A girl who set out to undo the sins of her father by way saving her little brother through an act of personal sacrifice. And even as she bravely stepped forward to do this, she was terrified of the fate that awaited her.

She eventually accepted oblivion, even if it still frightened her. I believe this was because she had learned to fear Hell, and was glad in the mistaken belief that she would never have to experience it. She came to love me, and need me, the one person she believed would never betray her. I can only imagine what she thinks of me now.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Lesson, very much so, learned.

Though my belly is full, and Ciel seems at peace, I refuse to simply abandon Gilda. I will return to Hell and search for my Mistress, on the likelihood that her soul has landed in that desolate and dangerous place. I do not know what this will accomplish, but I will still do it.

It seems odd, the way I can look back on it all now. I am critical of my decisions. I will nitpick my actions and disparage the way I handled both Ciel Phantomhive and Gilda Franks for years to come.

To be honest, after my experience with Ciel, I really should have seen the whole thing coming with Gilda–

A Teutonic name, meaning offering. Sacrifice.

Her name had also been her nature. It had proven problematic.

There is a sickness inside me, you see. One that screams at me to win at all costs, and it makes me a fool.

If given the chance, would I take it all back and not do it again? Not offer Ciel – who was too young to know what he was actually agreeing to – his chance at revenge? Not approach Gilda – who was too naïve to know that sacrifice is never accomplished without pain – in that café four years ago?

Not come when they called as they lay broken and dying? Not contract with them?

Not grow to love them?

I think you already know the answer to that question.

+

epilogue

to follow shortly

+
- 13
- 14
- 15
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Gilded