Blood.
It is a liquid with a taste more sweetly scrumptious than even the finest of Italian wines. She loved the intoxicating taste, but disliked the methods she had to use to get it. What reason was there, after all, to make herself end a person's life simply for the blood that they contained?
A child with beautiful gold hair twisted and turned in her luxurious bed sheets as the moonlight shone upon her face, her delicate, doll-like features contorted into an intensely agitated expression. If you were to consider her expression, as well as the fact that she was gripping her sheets to the point of almost tearing them, it would be fair to assume that she was having a nightmare.
A multitude of whimpers escaped the full pink lips of the child, followed by a high-pitched scream that ripped it's way out of her throat and pierced the stillness of the moonlit night. The child was jolted awake, her pale pink nightgown drenched with sweat and her hair wildly tangled. Frightened green eyes scanned the room, and took in the familiar scene of countless dolls and toys, and the pink wallpaper that – made her remember that this was the scene of her bedroom. The child's dilated pupils shrunk, and she buried her head into her arms, waiting, and listening silently as she had done on many nights, for the expected clickity-clack of her door opening.
The thick oak door swung slowly open, and a tall, slender figure entered the room. The figure's silver eyes peered expectantly into the emerald hues of the child as if asking, simply to be polite, for an explanation that was already known.
"Is it another nightmare, my lady?" The figure asked, her soft and lilting voice penetrating the silence of the room.
The child glanced back at the taller girl who had raven-black curls that were still in impeccable condition, despite the fact that she had just seemingly ran down a flight of stairs and through numerous hallways to get to her bedroom. It also seemed quite odd that the taller girl was wearing a maid's uniform at this time of night.
"Yes…Always the same one. Over and over." The child replied, her expression dark and filled with hatred.
"I see. Do you require any form of comfort?" The raven-haired girl asked, her heavy black skirt crinkling with every movement she made.
The gold-haired child paused, as if contemplating how she should respond to the question. Do I need to be comforted, she seemed to be asking herself, as she played with her nightgown, and glanced out her window momentarily.
"No. I am perfectly fine, Mariette." the child muttered, her emerald eyes half-closed as she studied the other girl leisurely, as if checking to see if the other girl was still paying attention.
The raven-haired girl stood patiently, her face set in a mechanical neutral expression that was so lifeless that it reminded the gold-haired girl of the face on a giant doll. The raven-haired girl would probably have made an excellent doll though, with her pale, alabaster complexion, high cheekbones, elegant roman nose, and blood-red lips. Her eyes, though, were the most striking part of her, as well as the only part of her that seemed truly alive.
Her eyes were both large and exoticly almond-shaped, framed by lush, dark lashes that only accentuated the marvelous colour of her eyes. Both of her eyes seemed to be a strange silvery colour from afar, though in fact, if you took the time to look a bit closer, they were actually two different colours. Her right eye was a dark violet closest to the pupil, melting into a pale blue colour that became silver as it reached the edges of her eye, while her left eye was a blood red colour closest to the pupil that merged into a fierce orange and then, briefly into a shining gold before subsiding into the customary silver at the edges. Her eyes showed nothing but coldness and cruelty, and the determination to survive no matter what. Her eyes held a depth to them that showed intense intelligence, but also a glimmer of dark amusement that made her seem like a trickster, but one that was more powerful than you could possibly imagine.
"Why aren't you wearing the mask I ordered for you, Mariette?" The gold-haired child said, as she turned away, her expression instinctively haughty.
A flash of red flared in Mariette's left eye, unnoticed by the other child, and disappeared as quickly as it came.
" My deepest apologies, my lady, for the mask has not been delivered yet."
"Then make sure it is here tomorrow. This is an order, Mariette." The gold-haired child said, looking away, and then added, as if trying to apologize, "because of your looks, the other servants are beginning to suspect you are here because of....questionable circumstances."
"Yes, my lady." Mariette proclaimed, sinking into a deep curtesy, her eyes calm and cool, as if accepting the apology.
"You may go." The green-eyed child whispered, her expression suddenly wistful.
"Then I shall take my leave, my lady." Mariette answered, stepping gracefully towards the thick wood door, her high-heeled black shoes bizarrely silent as they made their made across the room.
She suddenly paused, and turned her sterling – hued eyes back towards the other child, looking at her with a queer mix of amusement, nostalgia, and hunger. She opened her mouth, and hesitantly said,
"Tomorrow is my Feeding day. Please make sure you are prepared, my lady."
The golden-haired child did not look back at her, instead choosing to gaze out the window at the almost-full moon, as if questioning the time that had passed since that day. She unconsciously gripped her bed-sheets in a fiercely determined manner, and turned her head to look back at the raven-haired child, her green eyes wild, and blazing with hatred, and whispered,
"They will pay for their crime. We will make sure of it."
Mariette looked back, her expression unreadable, and curtseyed in a swirl of black and white skirts, before exiting the room. Just before exiting though, she licked her lips, and opened her mouth slightly, allowing the moonlight to reveal a pair of gleaming white canines that elongated fractionally before receding back to their normal length.
"Of course, my lady. That is the contract, after all." She murmured, her voice deepening to a honeyed, and yet harsh alto, a sharp contrast to the soft and feminine voice of before. Her eye flashed red again, for a moment, and then returned to the emotionless silvery colour of before as she swiftly exited the room.
"Indeed it is…Indeed…" The gold-haired girl muttered, as she closed her eyes to remember what happened that fateful night…
The moonlight shone upon the cobblestones of a dimly lit street, and a cloaked figure could be seen gliding hesitantly out of the shadows of an alleyway. Her flamboyantly pink, high-heeled boots clacked quietly over the filth-ridden stones of the London street, and her pretty face was unusually melancholy. There was nothing especially special about the figure in question, other than the fact that the figure was a blonde, green-eyed girl named Elizabeth Middleford – a young 10-year-old noblewoman who was obviously unaccustomed, and quite unsuited to walking the streets of London at night.
She had run away from her carriage in a fit of tears at the fact that her parents had been considering whether or not to break off the her betrothal. Her parents were probably considering this because the fortune of the Phantomhives had dwindled to almost half the amount of before, because of the fire that consumed the mansion - and two of it's three inhabitants. She loved the boy who she was to marry so much, that even the thought of her being seperated from him hurt her to the very core. Her parents had seemed so uncaring and horrible back then, that she simply couldn't take it anymore. After her escape from the carriage though, it didn't take long for her to get lost, and thus she found herself strolling through an unknown London street at night.
Her current semi-sad expression would most likely have been caused by the fact that her beloved fiancée, Ciel Phantomhive, had finally returned to the Phantomhive mansion. It was not the fact that he returned that upset her, - she was actually quite overjoyed at the fact that he was back, but Ciel had just seemed so different now. He seemed so cold, so sad, as if he was utterly and entirely alone.
Her Ciel had lost his smile.
It was also quite odd that he was suddenly able to find a new butler, especially one that was as shockingly capable as the man named Sebastian Michealis. The butler seemed to be perfectly fine in her opinion, though he sometimes seemed to be too perfectly fine. Though the red-eyed butler was seemingly unquestioning in his servitude and loyalty towards Ciel, the greedy and almost sadistic look that sometimes took place in his eyes, as well as the way his smiles all gave the impression of being fake, confirmed her suspicions of the butler being someone with an ulterior motive.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to notice the fact that she was being followed by three tall, bulky men, as well as another slim figure that flitted from chimney to chimney, occasionally glancing down at her in amusement. The three men came after her with a frighteningly savage intent, like three tigers after one sheep.
A beefy hand with a blue-stoned ring branded with a strange design adorning the fourth finger clamped down on her mouth, and her slim figure was thrown roughly to the ground as two other pairs of hands held her down in unyielding grips. The girl's emerald eyes widened and she struggled desperately to yell, to scream, to put up any type of struggle possible so that she could escape.
The men laughed at her pathetic attempt to get help, and simply held her even tighter to insure that she could not escape. One of the men, with dirty blonde hair and cruel blue eyes, took out a rusty knife and held it to her neck.
"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you? Too bad you're just as filthy as the rest of those nobles, and filth needs to be cleaned out of the body." He spat.
He ripped through the front of her sky-blue dress, and tore the bows from her curly gold hair, laughing madly, almost insanely, as he stared at her pale, child-like chest and now disheveled gold locks. Another man, with bloodshot brown eyes and dull brown hair ripped open the bottom of her dress, tearing through the delicate silk lining and the tiny, precise stitches that made up her beautiful pink dress.
Elizabeth watched, her eyes showing both fear and fury, as if she wanted to do something, but if she did anything at all, the abuse would only become worse. She was too afraid, or perhaps, too shocked to respond to anything.
"Ha. What a dirty little whore she is, just like the rest of those nobles. Parading themselves in front of the poor with all their finery like fattened peacocks." The man with brown eyes said, his voice filled with venom.
Elizabeth was too furious to feel her fear anymore, and viciously bit the hand of the man who was covering her mouth, reveling in his yelp of pain.
"Ciel? Help me! HEL-"
She was cut off by a brutal backhanded slap that silenced her immediately. The man's sharp edges of the ring the man was wearing cut into her pale, unblemished face, and drew a thin line of crimson blood across her cheek. The man holding her cursed, and abruptly dragged her into an alley. He then stuffed a wad of cloth into her mouth, and tied her wrists with more strips of the cloth.
"Stupid little bitch. We should've just given her to those religious freaks." He muttered.
The blonde haired man leered at her, and said "Those freaks never said we couldn't have some fun with her first." He awkwardly pulled down his trousers and laughed as he saw the incredulous look on her beautiful face.
"You think I won't?" He asked, smirking, "you nobles always underestimate how far we'll go for revenge."
Her eyes widened again, but in fear rather than shock, and her movements became even more frantic as she flailed around, but to no avail. The blonde man forced himself into her, laughing at her spasm of pain from the entry, and ignored the girl's muffled pleas and tears. The other two men simply watched in dark fascination as the innocent little girl lost her virtue.
It is human nature, after all to kill, to hurt, and to cause any kind of pain possible upon others. We are, contrary to our egocentric belief, actually creatures of instinct rather than true intellect, and we would watch, if not in horror, then in simple indifference or false emotions that we think we should feel, as what is pure becomes impure, and what is right becomes wrong. The blackness of our sin is what taints the white of this world.
With every thrust that the blonde-haired man forced into her, the pain of the hideous crime deepened. Eventually, though she felt like crying and screaming and pleading more, she simply could not find anything left in her that would let her cry, and so she did not. She saw her whole life flash through her mind, and then began to regret. She regreted every time she was rude to her maids. She regreted not listening to her parents. She regreted not taking all the world gave her and using it for acts of kindness. She regreted her selfishness. Most of all though, she regreted not being able to tell Ciel that she... Loved him. More than anything, and anyone.
She felt nothing as the world dissolved into darkness.