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Memento Mori	By : zoni Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 2931 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji and do not profit from my fan fiction.

Chapter List
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Chapter Two

The air in the bedroom felt cold against Ciel's skin. He sat shirtless on the edge of his bed and watched with detached interest as Sebastian wound a length of muslin bandage around his chest. Though it had been cleaned and covered, Ciel Phantomhive could still feel the brand on his back burning. The atmosphere in the room was tense and expectant even though there was nothing to be done. This situation was something that neither master nor servant had foreseen. Ciel's voice seemed louder than it was in the silence that surrounded them. "How is it that something like that could happen? That something else could claim my soul?"

Continuing his work with the bandages and always attentive to detail, Sebastian took a long moment before he responded. When he spoke, it was with a question rather than an answer. "Young master, do you remember the night we first met?"

"Yes," Ciel responded. His eyes drifted to the brown glass bottle of astringent that sat on his bedside table, along with scissors and additional bandages. The air smelled bitter, like medicine. "I would not forget."

"I wonder if you might be so kind as to tell me what happened," Sebastian said, "in the month before I arrived."

For a long moment, it seemed as though Ciel might not respond. He watched Sebastian as the butler continued to tighten and tie the lengths of muslin. Blue eyes drifted to stare at the floor as he finally started to speak. "I know that my parents were murdered, and that I was taken from the mansion. Even so, I don't know how I got from the mansion to the place where I was initially kept. At the house, there had been smoke and fire. I found the bodies of my parents and the dog, but I did not really realize that they were dead. I went to find help. I found Tanaka, who warned me not to go down the hallway in which he stood. As he spoke, he fell over. He was bleeding. Then, there was nothing but darkness.

"When I woke up, I was in a cage. It was made of heavy metal and it was in a stone room, probably a basement or cellar. The entire room stank badly of feces, blood and vomit. There were other children there, in other cages. I couldn't see them because there was no light and also because my cage was kept covered. People came and went several times a day. I was given food when they remembered. I was only in that place for a day or two. Though I have no idea how long my captivity endured, I know that it couldn't have been more than a few days there. The visitors - nobles and the nouveau-riche - would pull the cloth that covered my cage and look at me. After only a few such visitors, I suppose that I was sold like so much meat at a market.

"I barely remember being moved. The place that I was taken bore a striking resemblance to the first. It was dark, reeked of filth and I was once again kept in a small cage. The cage was larger than the one I had been kept in when I had been sold, but not by much. There were differences. In that second place, the rats were allowed to nibble at my feet in the night as I tried to sleep. There were no other children. The cage that I was kept in was left uncovered; though I could see nothing for there was not any real light in that place.

"Once a day, someone would come in and give me bread or some thin soup. They would take out the small bowl that served as my toilet. That was the only time that I had a little light, as they had to use a candle to see by. For the most part, I was ignored. I learned quickly not to speak to the people who came through. If I did speak, I was beaten. If the beating didn't suffice, they had whips and salt.

"I had no idea why I had been taken to this place or what would become of me. I might have been there a day or a week before the first of the men came. They used my body. Disgusting animals, no better than pigs. I can still hear them grunting as they rutted over me. When they were done, I might be left alone for a while. They didn't like it when I had fresh blood on me."

Cutting the last of the bandages, Sebastian watched him with a dark expression. Ciel ran a tense hand through the slate strands of his hair. The demon knew much of what had happened before the contract had been struck. They had discussed it before, though not in detail. Humans were strange creatures, always afraid of the truth. There was an inhuman quality, something unnatural, about the way this child sat before him and talked so plainly about being raped. Whatever childhood Ciel Phantomhive might have had, it had been taken away in the darkness of the rooms that he had been kept in. The evil things that had been done to him had driven him closer to summoning Sebastian, but they had no bearing on the thing that had laid claim to him even before Sebastian had arrived. Sebastian placed a gloved hand over the much smaller one that Ciel had rested on his own knee, startling the boy out of his thoughts. Ciel looked at him as though he had just seen a ghost. Sebastian's voice was quiet as he asked, "Young master, what happened on the night that I first came to you?"

The startled look on Ciel's face remained for a moment longer before he collected his thoughts. Turning his face to stare once more at the floor of his room, he considered his answer. Slowly, Ciel said, "That day, there had been more people in the room that I was kept in. The same crowd came every once and a while; I had seen them several times before. They always came and talked in hushed voices for a few minutes before leaving. Before that night, they had never acknowledged my presence aside from commenting on my appearance."

"Your appearance?" Sebastian queried.

"They called me fair or lovely, as if I was a woman," Ciel said, disgust clear in his voice. He spat the words. "On that day, they stayed longer. They said, though not to me, that I would have to be cleansed. Not... in a religious sense, but in the fact that I was filthy. By that time, I was covered in all manner of blood and refuse. I had been allowed only rudimentary baths with a damp rag, and even then only once or twice.

"After the crowd had left the room and their voices were long gone, two people came in with candles and pulled me from the cage. They unlocked the chain that held my foot to the metal floor. Once I was out of the cage, they pulled the rags that were left of my clothing off of my body. I was given a bath, if it can be called that. The water was so cold that I could scarcely feel my skin and I had difficulty breathing. The water was cold, but they scrubbed my skin so hard that it was raw by the time that they had finished. The cloth of the towel that they dried me with was as rough as tree bark. It burned my skin. I remember that, because they then wrapped me in a sheet and I found the difference strange. The sheet was soft.

"Then, they dragged me up and out of the cellar. I remember a flight of stone stairs. We came into a large room, lit all around with candles. In this room, there were people everywhere. Two dozen, maybe more. It was a party, though the likes of which I never hope to see again. They all wore masks. Many wore cloaks or hats that obscured their face or hair. They were laughing as the two people who bathed me and dragged me into the room forced me down on my knees beside a fireplace. A man began to say a prayer over me, like a priest, except his words were neither English nor Latin. I could not tell what he was saying until he told me that he would give me the mark of 'The Beast.' I remember those two words, because as soon as he said them I was on fire. They had pressed the brand into my skin, and it was more pain than I had felt until that time.

"No sooner had they burned their precious mark into my skin but I was moved again. This time, I was pressed down by many hands on top of a white table. It was the only white thing in the room, aside from the sheet which I had been wrapped in after the bath. I could barely think because of the pain from the brand. It was raw and fresh, the only thing that my mind could think of then. I called out for my parents, for God, for Tanaka. For anyone that would help me. None came. The people around me did not care. They laughed. The man over me continued his prayers and his cry was taken up by the crowd. I remember seeing the flash of a knife and then nothing. There was pain. There was blood. There was darkness. And then there was you. That is all."

Ciel's voice drifted into silence as he finished. While they had discussed it before, Ciel had never gone into detail. This was the first time that he had ever told Sebastian the entirety of what had happened that night, or in the month before. Silently, Sebastian wondered if Ciel had needed to say it, if only to get it out of his mind. The words had been a steady flow that had almost seemed rehearsed. No matter how composed or mature Ciel Phantomhive might seem, these things had bothered him for a very long while. They also answered the question that both the boy and his butler needed the answer to. "Young master, I should have asked you for these details long ago."

"Why?" Ciel asked, not looking at the demon.

"You have just told me how it is possible for something to have claimed your soul before I came, even without your knowledge," Sebastian said. He pulled his hand away from his master's as the boy looked at him. "When they marked you with that brand, when they tried to give your life to the creature that they worship, they gave away something that was not theirs to give. That is when your soul was claimed, though not by me. They made a gift of you to something that they did not even comprehend."

"And yet we are in a contract," Ciel said.

"A contract is an agreement," Sebastian said, "between a demon and his master. Simply because it exists does not guarantee its completion, no more than a handshake guarantees friendship. Many demons feed without contracts and many demons in contracts break them. The mark I put on you binds you to me, and vice versa. However, it is still nothing but an agreement. I had no knowledge that a previous claim had been made to your soul, and had no reason to suspect so until today."

"Sebastian..."

"Yes, young master?"

"What happens now?" Ciel paused, his voice soft. "Will you still devour my soul?"

"Even I am uncertain as to what will happen, or precisely how to proceed," Sebastian said. The demon watched the boy with dark eyes, contemplating the possibilities. "However, I abide by my agreements. You once ordered me to serve you as your butler until I devoured your soul. Until the matter is resolved, I remain ever your humble servant."

"Does my soul belong to you?" Ciel turned his face, looking directly at Sebastian with unreadable eyes.

Sebastian could not help the smallest upturning of his lips. "Not yet."

A day passed completely without incident. Ciel Phantomhive felt no differently than he had on any day before. The strange reality that he had become aware of the previous morning weighed heavily on his mind. Since then, Sebastian had made no further attempts to devour his soul. Neither had whatever dark being had laid claim to his soul even before his own demon had come to him. The only thing that had changed from before was the constant, steady feel of the brand at his side. It burned, a prickling heat that was just enough to cause him discomfort. The burning sensation became stronger any time that Sebastian was near. If Sebastian was in the room, it was noticeable. If he was changing the bandages over the mark itself, it was downright painful. Even so, Sebastian had not touched the mark directly, not even while tending to the bandages.

Ciel watched Sebastian as the man skillfully refilled his tea and collected the plates that had served to hold his breakfast. It was a morning like any other and yet it was completely different. It was strange to know that the man standing before him with such a pleasant look on his face had tried to bring an end to his existence only the day before. Stranger still, Ciel knew that Sebastian still desired to do so. That thought was not as disturbing as it should have been; Ciel had lived with that reality for a long while. The only real question was how that particular end might come about with this new obstacle in the way.

Sebastian's hunger for his master's soul may not have bothered the boy, but something else did. Sipping lightly at the spiced black tea that Sebastian had brought him, Ciel could not help but wonder why the thing that had laid claim to his soul had not already eaten him itself. He did not even know what it was that had such a hold over him, yet he could see no reason for it to wait. After all, it wa not as though he had a contract with it or anything of the sort. Considering the cup in his hand, Ciel decided to voice that concern. "Sebastian, why has it not eaten my soul? What is it?"

"I do not know, young master," Sebastian said. He watched the boy for a long moment and then replaced the tea kettle back onto the cart that he had wheeled into the bedroom. "I also do not know why it has not acted on its claim. Even demons that enter contracts frequently break them to devour their prey early, unable to resist the temptation."

"You did not," Ciel said simply, looking at the butler.

"No," Sebastian smiled. "I did not. I am rather unusual in that aspect."

"Unusual?"

"In that and other ways, yes," Sebastian said. He reached out and took the empty tea cup and saucer from his master. Ciel blinked at him. Sebastian rarely talked about his own kind, even when asked.

Silence fell between them as Sebastian prepared to take the tea cart back to its rightful place. Quietly, Ciel asked, "What would it take to get rid of it? Is it possible to do so?"

"Most probably, yes. There are ways of getting rid of even the most resilient pests, though I confess that it would be easier to tell you what measures to take if we had any idea what it was."

Looking away, Ciel asked, "Is there any way to find out?"

"There are many varieties of dark things in this world, young master. Some are lesser creatures, barely an annoyance. Some are far worse than me." Sebastian smiled as the boy in front of him made a doubtful face at that statement. "It might be possible to learn of its identity, but I would not put an overly large amount of thought into it. We may never know, even if we do manage to dispose of it."

"How can you get rid of something when you don't even know what it is?" Ciel asked.

"There are a few things that work on many different things, young master. Humans do occasionally get things right," Sebastian said. "Despite old wives tales, demons have no fear of crossing water. Throwing a handful of broom straws, a country superstition to distract both demons and fae, will do nothing but annoy me. However, baptism, exorcism, blessings and the like from a priest are enough to frighten off a number of creatures. While religion is perhaps not the most apt bastion of strength in this case, the rituals and motions might be the best way to rid yourself of whatever parasite has claimed your soul."

"I place no faith in God or religion."

"I am aware. I simply suggested that as a means to an end, young master," Sebastian said. "I only wished to inform you that these are some of the ways that you may be able to loosen the grip that the parasite has on your soul. There are other methods, as well. Though, I must admit, there is one thing that I am curious about.

Ciel looked at him. "What is that?"

"I have never seen a human so so readily willing to give up their soul," Sebastian said. "Even since the night that I first came to you. Why is that?"

The look that Ciel gave him was enough to deliver the answer; Ciel thought it was obvious. "Giving you my soul was part of the agreement. You served me without question for three years. You kept me alive and helped me to achieve revenge. I am a man of my word. I told you that if you did those things, you could devour my soul. I will do as I said. There is nothing more to it."

Ciel's eyes momentarily drifted to the floor. When he looked up, he found Sebastian watching him with the same expression that he had seen on the man's face the day before. Soft eyes and a soft smile, so out of place on the face of a demon. It struck him that Sebastian found some part of Ciel's faithfulness to their agreement endearing. The demon enjoyed his willingness to give up his soul. In the cold of the room, Ciel shivered. Sebastian's voice was surprisingly loud in the silence. "Do you want to die?"

Ciel looked at Sebastian for a moment longer before he found himself unable to keep eye contact with the man. Looking away, he replied, "No."

Sebastian stepped away from him, then. Ciel could not even remember him coming close. Excusing himself momentarily, the butler took the tea cart to be unloaded. He returned not a minute later. With breakfast and tea concluded, all that remained was to get dressed and address the day. Ciel stood and let Sebastian unbutton his nightshirt. Staring at the far wall, Ciel asked, "What is on this morning's schedule?"

"There is paperwork to go over for Funtom Company and some minor expenses that need to be approved for the household," Sebastian said, retrieving a stack of fresh clothing. He helped Ciel into a pair of undershorts. "However, there is nothing properly scheduled for today. I had not anticipated this particular situation."

"I see. You may continue to schedule appointments and lessons until we have found a solution for this problem," Ciel said. After a moment, he added, "Though dance lessons are not necessary."

"As you wish, young master," came the patient reply. "I should change the bandages over the brand before we put on the rest of your clothing for the day."

From a pocket, Sebastian pulled out a knife. Surprisingly gently, he reached up and cut through the bandages. Ciel winced. The pain in the brand multiplied as Sebastian's hands neared it. Sebastian's eyes flicked to his face. "Are you in pain, young master?"

"The mark burns."

Sebastian's eyes drifted down to the brand on his master's back. The flesh was reddened and slightly raised. Lifting his hand to his mouth, Sebastian tugged the glove off of his right hand. Despite the obvious connection to the incidents the day before, Sebastian's concern about the mark was much more mundane. Infection could kill the body as easily as anything supernatural. The skin around the mark was hot to the touch. Hotter than even an infection would merit. Studying the mark, Sebastian's fingers were light on the boy's skin as he traced the area around it. The instant that his fingers actually touched the edges of the mark, Ciel screamed. The sound was torn from his throat even as his small body trembled. The scream cut off as quickly as it had begun. Ciel collapsed on the bed. Sebastian's reaction was instantaneous. Reaching for the boy, he shouted, "Young master!"

Footsteps coming up the hall signified that the other servants had heard the scream. Outside of the bedroom door, MeyRin and Bard were both shouting. Sebastian glanced at the wooden door for the smallest fraction of a second. When he looked back, Ciel was sitting up once more. Sebastian let out a sigh of relief. "Young master, are you all right?"

Ciel stared blankly at nothing for half a minute. Then, he turned his face toward Sebastian. When he did so, Sebastian pulled his hands away from the boy and frowned darkly. Something was not right. The boy's normally bright eyes looked cold, dead. They were not the eyes of his young master. Ciel's lips parted, but the voice that came out was utterly alien to Sebastian. Deep, cold and rattling with the sound of age, his master said, "Sebastian Michaelis. I have waited three years to meet you, taker of what is mine."
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Memento Mori