"Boys and girls of every age"

The beginning of October marks many things worldwide.

More specifically, in England, the first week is also known as Children Book's Week. Meaning that when walking across London, you would see all these different libraries and book stores with signs advertising different kinds of discounts. Ciel Phantomhive doesn't feel the slightest bit of sympathy for the kids who cry as their parents drag them in to the stores. It was as if the adults had been looking for a reason, a day, a week that would sober whiny kids into mature beings.

If you asked Ciel, the "national week," didn't stop the bastards from crying about their dying wishes to have the newest Funtom toy. Not that it bothered Ciel, he was quite pleased for his father that his business was booming across England. If most people had taken into account that a Phantomhive was in their presence, Ciel would surely be placed in a hot spot.

Though he supposes that it doesn't matter that he was a sixteen-year-old boy as long as his parents were around. His lovely father and mother had decided that Ciel still fit into "children's books." They practically forced him out of the house a couple of hours before, telling him not to come home unless he has brought back books with him. Be an attribute to society.

He stops in front of an impeccable, well-known, high-class toy store. One that, most certainly, sells Funtom products. Drawing his lips into a thin line against the cool weather, Ciel peers in through the window to see the childish objects. His father constantly comes to him for ideas, telling Ciel that he was most creative in his younger age but it wore away with time. Ciel helps bring the ideas to life and try to guide his older father into newer society.

The newest Funtom product was a Jack-in-the-Lantern, not to be confused with a Jack-in-the-Box. Ciel had come up with the idea after looking over his own toys he remembers having as a child. Though Jack-in-the-Box's were an old idea, this product surely brought it back. Rather than a box, just as the name suggests, it takes place in a Jack-O-Lantern instead. When one spins the dial on the side of the pumpkin, a haunting yet vaguely familiar tune plays.

A breeze blows by strongly, freezing Ciel to the bone. He wore a coat, though it had no resistance to the bitter weather that comes along as soon as it hits halfway through September. His pale ears were slowly turning pink, he could see through the reflection of the glass. Sighing, he steps back, running a hand through his hair. He turns and begins to head into the book store right near the toy store.

Giggles and shrieks fill the air, as the parents wait impatiently in a line, arms full of books. Children dance around their parents legs, causing the thin space to be cramped. Boys and girls of every age were all screaming and causing Ciel a headache. Curling his lip, he sneers at a child who accidentally steps in front of him. The kid, a girl with brown hair, shrieks and runs away to her mother.

Ignoring the noises around him, Ciel makes his way to the back of the store. The further back you got into the store, the age levels went up. Children books were near the front, while darker novels lay in the dim lighting. He lets his eyes adjust and steps forward, the old floorboard creaking.

"Damn this week," Ciel murmurs, eying the front of the building before turning back to the bookshelf in front of him. The different sections, different genres were all marked with colorful signs against the dark wood. He finds himself in the fiction section. Scowling, he walks through the thin aisles that seperate the different areas of the bookstore. Hearing a shriek, he looks down to see children laughing as they play patty-cake in front of him.

Rolling his eyes, he looms over them. The children stop and look up at him with wide eyes. The pair includes of two little girls, their hair in braids, gloved hands still clasped together as they watch him with wide eyes.

"Well?" Ciel prods. "Are you going to move or not?" His tone is as bored, as aggressive as ever. He sees the fear flash in their young eyes and suddenly they're both running away, shrieking for their mother.

Irritating, overreacting children.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and looks up to see where this leads him to. He was currently standing on the "Spiritual Fiction," aisle. He scoffs aloud, "Why in the bloody hell am I over here? This genre is for children who are so much as scared and messed-up as their own reflections."

"I find this section quite intriguing, really," comes another voice. Ciel gasps, thinking that he had been alone. Turning around he sees a man standing across from him. He was leaning against the bookshelf, his eyes gleaming. Ciel swallows.

He was probably around twenty-five, though something told Ciel he was much older. He had long, silvery hair that was hanging around the man's face. He was wearing a hat that covers his eyes and advertised the word, "Undertaker." The oddest part wasn't his hat, or even his mysterious aura - no, it was what the man was wearing the confused Ciel. It was currently fourty-two degrees outside on the cold October day, and this man was wearing an open, dark gray and black striped flannel that revealed his slimly muscled chest. His black skinny jeans clung to his hips and unnaturally thin legs. Beaten up Doc Martens cover his feet, making low thumping sounds as the stranger makes his way towards Ciel.

Ciel remains calm outwardly, but his heart was beating faster by the second. It was as if each step the man took towards him, he could see flashes of his funeral. Oh God, what in the bloody hell is going on with me?! Opening his mouth to tell the "Undertaker," to fuck off, he was cut off when he feels long fingernails trailing across his cheeks. Ciel's eyes widen and he straightens up, shock making him stay frozen.

The man lets out a loud laugh suddenly, and Ciel prays that someone sees this scene and stops the fucking creeper. Unfortunately it falls upon seemingly deaf ears, though Ciel has the sneaking suspicion that for some reason people couldn't see this. It was as if everything was loud and silent at once, and he was locked in front of this man.

"My, my." The man's voice sounds raspy, like he was breathless from too much laughing. He grins in a childish way that makes Ciel's heart drop in a serious way. Flashes of Ciel's life runs through his head and he swallows thickly. His parents. His aunt. All the things he didn't do and regrets. All the things he did do and regrets. Everything, down to the last detail.

And then everything was gone and he was hit with the realization of how serious and odd this situation was.

It was as if his body was trembling under the skin, blood thumping and screaming at him to run run run and don't look back, don't come back, leave. Ciel wishes he could find it in himself to conjure up his fighting courage and race away. But he couldn't, he feels as if he did then he'd miss out on something very important. Information that will change his life.

"He chose well," the Undertaker giggles, his black-painted nails skimming over Ciel's soft face. A surge of indignity rushes through Ciel. What the fuck was he talking about? And how dare he touch a Phantomhive, the Queen's watchdog?

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm sure it's stupid," Ciels says bitingly. "Now leave me alone and maybe I'll let you go while you have a chance."

He defiantly meets the man's eyes for a moment, finding them under all his messy hair. His breath picks up, because he was looking at a dead man.

The Undertaker had yellow eyes. A bright, haunting yellow - glowing like a dead man's glassy gaze, glowing like the Cheshire Cat against a deathly pale face. Ciel was suddenly hit with the smell of this man - earth and rotting carcasses. He felt like throwing up dry; no, this man definitely was not normal. The feeling of dying is racing through his veins in a way that was worse, much much much worse than before. It was as if as soon as the connection of their eyes was made, everything was black. The oddest part was it was like he could feel nothing and everything right in place. It felt like Ciel was laying down rather than standing up, laying down in a casket, getting lowered into the ground, the smell of six-feet-deep earth surrounding him and his loved ones faces streaming with tears.

Ciel gasps, clawing on to a near bookstand, shoving the man further away from him. "What are you doing?" he chokes out.

"Visiting you, of course," the man cackles. He leans forward. "Why, I thought today you'd for sure be getting into one of my lovely caskets, but we must hold it off for a different day. Wouldn't want him to get mad, would we?" A secret smile is crossing the bastard's face. He taps his white face with his dark, long fingernails, as if deep in thought. Ciel shudders.

"Who in the bloody hell are you talking about?" Ciel snaps, trying to regain dignity from acting like a small, scared child. He refuses to be seen as weak, as pathetic by someone as creepy as the "Undertaker."

The man starts howling with laughter. He leans against a bookshelf opposite of Ciel, laughing harder until he was sliding down. Ciel wrinkles his nose. Disgusting. Perhaps he was on drugs and was just messing with him. However, something tells Ciel that he was incorrect and that the man was sane - well, sane enough for someone like him.

The man looks up at Ciel, and wipes his eyes like he had cried from how funny Ciel was. Ciel was practically bristling with fury. First, this man had come up to him and touched him, and then laughed at him? Ciel was about to start a fight if this man didn't get to the point soon or, better yet, leave him alone.

"'Hell,'" the man cackles. "'Hell.'" He starts laughing again and Ciel decides it's high time to leave. Turning around, he begins to walk away, when the man calls after him. "If you want information, you can stay. You did make me laugh as payment, after all."

Ciel stops and turns around. Sighing, he crosses his arms. "What? Make it quick. I don't have time for the likes of you."

The "Undertaker," shakes his head, the smile never leaving his face. It was just as creepy as he was. "He's waiting for you," he finally informs. "Or, rather, he's been waiting for you for a while now. Oh, how much fun this will be." He claps his hands.

"Who are you talking about?" Ciel demands. The "Undertaker," giggles and shakes his head, pressing a finger to his lips. Ciel glares down at the man sprawled out across the floor, before turning around and starting away again. He hears thuds behind him but doesn't look back. The "Undertaker" calls after him again.

Against his better judgement, he stops again. "What is it this time?" Ciel was on the verge of killing this laughing bloody fool.

The "Undertaker" hands him a book. Arching an eyebrow, Ciel takes it. His eyes skim across the front only to find no cover or title. No hints as to who wrote it or what it was about. "What is this?"

"You sure do ask a ton of questions," the Undertaker cackles. "Though, I suppose it's quite alright because you're a funny lad." Shaking his head, silvery hair swishing with his movements, he continues, "You came here for a book, no? So read it."

Ciel looks back down at it. I wonder what it's about… Biting his lower lip, deep in thought, he runs the pad of his thumb over the golden-tipped pages. They were worn and a sickly yellow that all older books are. It felt ancient in Ciel's hands. He always had enjoyed old books, but for this creep to give it to him…

"I already paid for it." The Undertaker's tone was as amused as it had been the whole time. He makes a "he-he," noise. "Just enjoying reading it."

Ciel watches the man suspiciously. He hadn't searched for the man's yellow eyes since they had first interlocked, and they were luckily hidden behind the man's bangs. "Why are you giving this to me? Is this some kind of childish joke?"

"Of course not," he replies. "Just enjoy." The man suddenly looks off, looking as if he was sharply listening to something someone wasn't there was saying. Ciel listens in, also, and was surprised to hear the sound of rain pounding against the roof of the building. Great.

"It seems as if I have business to attend to," the Undertaker remarks. Ciel could hear the sounds of the parents and children still in the front of the store. It was as if he had forgotten all about the fact he was in a sketchy part of the bookstore when he was busy talking to the Undertaker.

"Wait, you can't just -" Ciel starts, because who did this man think he was to do such odd things and then say he had business to attend to? No normal person can get away from him after doing such things! He was Ciel Phantomhive.

"I'll see you around, Ciel Phantomhive," the Undertaker laughs with a wave of his hands as he walks away. "Hopefully soon, hopefully not soon for you!"

He was out of sight in a blink of an eye.

Ciel blinks, stares down at the book and then looking all around in hopes of seeing the stranger. No one remotely like him was there. The noise of the faint laughter he hears, the same damned laugh the Undertaker gargled, was ringing in his ears.

The smell of the earth was still hanging in the air.

It was currently a rainy October 1st, and Ciel Phantomhive stood in a bookstore that he had gone into by his parents orders to celebrate Children's Book Week, and he was left wondering what in the bloody hell just happened.

Hey, this is a first time I've ever written for Black Butler. The song that I'm using throughout this whole story is called. "This is Halloween." There are several versions, but I prefer Panic! At the Disco's. Hope you enjoy.