"Ok, drag the kid over here," Claire demanded, pointing at a wooden chair next to a window. I cringed, knowing that tactically this was a terrible place to put a hostage.
I carried the boy over to the designated location and placed him on the chair. Claire rolled her eyes. "I said drag," she mumbled to herself, annoyed. I ignored her and quickly tied his arms back so that he wouldn't have a chance at escape, or be able to remove the sack that was over his head. We didn't want him to be able to identify us after this whole thing was over.
"Alright, lets call his place and get someone to bring us the money. One hundred thousand pounds. It's chump change for the little brat, isn't it?" Claire smirked, patting the boy on the back, with a little too much force to be considered friendly.
Claire wasn't my friend. She was just a means to an end. I needed money, she needed money. She came up with a plan to ransom out a rich kid to get the money we needed. I didn't care what she was going to do with her portion; all I knew was that I was using mine to run.
I had to run if I wanted to live.
"I'll go to the pay phone," I volunteered, although I didn't feel like it was the best idea to leave Claire alone with the boy. She seemed to be placing all her resentment of the rich elite on this poor child. He couldn't be more than 12-years-old. I wasn't the first person to cheer on the rich, but I also didn't care to torture children either. I wanted to run, but I didn't want to damage my soul by betraying my integrity. My soul was already so fragile.
"You needn't waste your time," the boy responded coolly from beneath the sack. "I can call my butler from here."
I was about to ask how and Claire was in the process of raising her hand to smack the boy when he declared in a booming voice befitting of someone much older than 12, "Sebastian, come to me now."
The voice came from behind me. "I'm right here, my young lord."
Claire and I both pulled our guns. I had no idea how the butler was able to get into the room without either of us hearing him until I saw the look in his eyes. It made my skin crawl.
"My, my… My lord, you really have perfected this talent of being taken. What is this, the third time now?" he mocked, but his eyes were on me the entire time. I swallowed hard. He knew what I knew.
"Sebastian, I grow weary of your tone," Ciel Phantomhive sneered.
"Shut up!" Claire shouted from across the room. I could sense from the distress in her voice that she was just as terrified as me, and she didn't even know the truth of the situation. "If you don't want us to hurt the little posh kid, then you best give us one hundred thousand pounds. Otherwise, I'll put a bullet in the kid's head."
The butler moved slowly closer to me and his lord. He was as graceful as a dancer, and I knew as deadly as a tiger. There was even a feral feline look about his eyes, which still were locked on me. "Well, you see, I left my change purse back at the mansion," he said, gliding closer still. "Perhaps it would be best for all of us if you ladies just left."
He was giving us a choice: leave now and live, or stay and face a fate worse than death. I knew which I'd rather choose, but unfortunately Claire didn't know the gravity of our situation.
"One hundred thousand pounds, or a bullet. Those are your choices, butler," Claire shouted, waving the pistol around like it was a fan. "Or maybe we should ask the little lord what he wants you to do? That's not so much money for a life, right Lord Phantomhive?" She taunted.
"Yes, my lord," the butler Sebastian called. "What are your orders?"
There was a long pause, and I stared into the butler's cold, dark eyes. They were the eyes of Death. Finally, Ciel responded.
"Stop them, and get me out of this damn chair."
"As you wish, my lord." And then the demon jumped at me.
