Hey you guys! Okay, my first Kuroshitsuji fic and my first Infernal Devices fic. Flames and contsructive criticism are welcome, please read/review/favorite/alert! Part of my crossover war with Beta5200, so read her story Fairy Tail Evils Series and tell us which one is better. Thanks! -DC
Clarification about Kuroshitsuji: This takes place some time DURING the Kuroshitsuji MANGA. Ciel is NOT a demon. Angela/Ash, Pluto, Alois, Claude, Hannah, and all of the other anime-only characters do NOT exist. Lau is NOT evil. Snake DOES exist.
Clarification about the Infernal Devices: This takes place some time BEFORE Clockwork Angel. Will does NOT know about his "curse", and Tessa does NOT exist in their lives.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Kuroshitsuji or the Infernal Devices. No matter how much I wish I did. They belong to their respective authors/artists.
Chapter 1: A Pair of Curses
A comical pair was seen walking down the narrow streets of London. A tall, thin, wiry man garbed in black and a small boy, wearing a tall black top-hat as if it's height could compensate for its owner's lack of. Though one might think it natural that the elder would lead the way, the smaller was clearly the more dominant of the two, walking in front with his head held high and his single clear blue eye bearing a fixed look of concentration. One of the boy's hands held an ornate walking stick, its beat against the cobblestone adding a rhythm to his swift strides. The other hand was hidden within the folds of his flowing black cloak, holding an unaddressed envelope marked by a single red wax seal. He was –in manner, likeness, and being– Earl Ciel Phantomhive, master of the Phantomhive Household and watchdog of the Queen.
The taller of the two followed his young master like a shadow, soundlessly moving with the same long strides his master took. They cut through the crowd easily, like a chef's knife might cut through butter, as all of London's "commoners" could easily recognize the pair- and all knew to stay well out of their way. To stay well out of the way of the cold, dark touch of death that followed the cursed watchdog and his black butler wherever they went.
As the pair continued to walk down the street, a black cloak and tailcoat fluttering weakly in their wake, the crowd of commoners was thinning out and soon disappeared all together. They were replaced, however, by a different sort of people. Downworlders, they were called, the dregs of London society that smoked opium in the East End, murdered innocent passer-bys at Whitechapel, and even practiced black magic behind closed doors. Most were disfigured mutants covered with tattoos, coated with dirt, caked with mud, and wearing nothing but rags and scraps of fabric. Some, wearing nothing at all.
It was only natural that the poor should envy the well-to-do, and the London Downworld was certainly no exception. Ciel scoffed in disgust and struck out with his walking stick at a wrinkled old drug-addict who's one arm reached out to touch his hand-made heeled boots. And conditions weren't improving as they walked further into the darkness of the ally. Rather quite the opposite.
Night was falling, and one by one lanterns were beginning to light. The sight would have been oddly beautiful, like fireflies in the night, if not so grotesque. Simple moths weren't the only ones who flocked to the sudden brightness, but also beetles the size of your big toe, and rats. Rats that were capable of working together to take down a full-grown man and eat him alive. People, too, were drawn towards the light. People who were missing limbs or had a few too many of them, people who had been annexed by a tail or a pair of wings, people with teeth like a million knives… People that weren't really people at all.
"Young Master," Sebastian said, kicking an over-grown rat aside. "They're staring."
"Let them stare," the Earl replied simply, lifting his chin a few inches higher, "Let them stare, but nothing more. I want none of those…things…touching me."
"Yes, my Lord," the demon replied.
"Sebastian," the boy inquired, "How many of these are actually people?"
The butler blinked, and when his eyes opened Ciel thought he caught a flash of red. "Does my lord truly wish to know?"
"Answer me truthfully, Sebastian," Ciel replied, irritated by his butler's unwillingness to comply.
"Of course," the demon said, closing his eyes once more. This time, when they flashed open they appeared as glittering rubies in the night, lit by their own hellish power. "None of them are," he said simply, a faint smile on his lips.
Ciel's face became a mask of stone. His head turned back, as if he was checking that no one was following or listening in, before looked up at the demon. "Then what are they? Are they…like you?"
Sebastian blinked once more, his eyes reverting back to their original state. "Only a few of them are demons, and all of them weak. They are mainly warlocks, half human half demon, as well as several vampires, werewolves, infrits, nixies, peris- Aah!" He gasped and looked mildly surprised.
"What?" Ciel asked, "What is it?"
"There is also a Shadowhunter."
"What are those?"
Sebastian looked off in the distance, as if he could see beyond the smoke and murk. "Nephilim. Children of the Angel. Demon hunters. A sacred race of demigods."
"And are you afraid?" Ciel asked. His question was more of a challenge than out of curiosity.
The demon didn't answer, but paused in front of a particularly crowded opium den. "We're here, my Lord." He said, ignoring Ciel's question.
They pushed aside the beaded curtain that was draped over the entry, and entered the dim, musty, lamp-lit room. Inside was the overwhelming smell of drugs and herbs of every kind- almost all of them illegal. Ciel's headache was immediate, and he suddenly felt the urge to fall unconscious. The butler noticed his young master's condition immediately, and handed one of his white starched handkerchiefs to the boy, who immediately pressed it against his face.
"Let's find him and get out of here, Sebastian. No playing around." Ciel snapped, his voice muffled by the cloth.
"Yes, my Lo-"
Sebastian was cut off, as the tip of a wickedly sharp, glowing knife protruded from his chest. As the butler collapsed at the feet of his master, a man –no, boy –stepped out of the shadows.
"And by the knife of the Angel, I banish you to the hellish world from where you came."