His Valet de Chambre

Chapter 2: Oh, why am I moody and sad?

Demons do not need to sleep, it is quite true.

But demons do sleep.

And when demons sleep, they very rarely dream.

But when demons do dream, it always means something, and it cannot be ignored.

***

The white stag bounded through the forest. He seemed at once to transcend his surroundings and to be an inextricable part of them.

Sebastian was a part of things, too, though. He nocked his arrow. He aimed.

He loosed.

The gleaming white coat was painted with red. As the stag faltered and tried to keep running, Sebastian chased after and brought it down.

***

Sebastian sat before a laden feast table, the stag roasted whole and laid out upon a great platter. It smelled wonderful, but yet…

Sebastian remembered the beautiful gleaming thing, intimately at one with its surroundings, so perfect, so pure, moving with such grace. He brought his mind forcefully back to the present, and tried to reconcile the pitiful burnt carcass he saw before him with that image of sacred life….

He had brought down the pure white stag. He had accomplished his goal. He had done what he came to do. Yet he felt nothing but bitter, bitter defeat.

Sebastian wept.

Suddenly, the Undertaker appeared beside him.

"Ooooh, interesting! So you have finally captured your prey, hmmm?" Undertaker poked at the carcass with a scalpel, and Sebastian angrily batted his hand away.

"But what is this? You do not wish me to carve him for you? Perhaps you will eat him with your hands?"

Eat him...

Sebastian recoiled in horror at the thought… but of course, that had been the goal all along, hadn't it?

"iiiiihihihihi! Oh, this is marvelous!" The Undertaker rolled on the floor, giggling madly.

"He has defeated you! Even in death, your prey defeats you. Oh, thank you, you daft little demon, you! This must be the best joke of all time… ihihihihihihi…."

The old shinigami ran off into the distance, still giggling.

Sebastian inhaled the smell of the roast meat. It was so wonderful, heavenly… but the white stag… the white stag is gone….

"Oh, Sebas-chan, you silly boy!" Sebastian started up to see the unwelcome sight of Grell Sutcliff across the table from him.

Grell paused and gazed at Sebastian for a moment. His expression softened. "I know why you weep."

Sebastian was still trying to comprehend his emotions himself. "I killed it… It was so beautiful, and all I could do was kill it and eat it…"

"Oh no, Sebas-chan. That's not it at all." The red shinigami flashed his toothy grin. "All things die, you know. Would you prefer to have kept it as a pet? Nurse it to doddering old age and watch it deteriorate to a pathetic bag of bones? It would hardly be so tasty after that…"

"But I…"

"Yeeees?" Grell's mocking, cat-like grin taunted him from across the platter of roast meat. (Just meat, now.. Just meat… What once was alive, sacred… Just meat)

"We're all just meat in the end, Sebas-chan. Stop being so maudlin."

"Why can you read my thoughts?"

"Because you are dreaming, of course."

Damn.

As soon as Sebastian was aware he was dreaming, he started awake. He tried to wrap his head around the dream. Why? Why was the stag so important to him, and what else was he supposed to do other than kill it and eat its meat?

He pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, his head sagging into his hands. The dream had been happening ever since that night at the Savoy. Sleeping was no longer pleasant, but Sebastian kept at the dream, because he had to unlock its message. Again tomorrow. Sebastian sighed in exasperation.

A/N: Thanks everybody who rated and reviewed my stuff, or even just read it and (hopefully) enjoyed it! You all rock!