Hola, Bonjour, Buon Giorno, Konnitiha, Ni Hao, and Hello. It's me again! I give credit for the design and first name of Elias to my lovely sister, Vexic929. If you like Death Note, you'll like the Children of Kira story she has. (I don't even like DN and I like the story, so…)
I hope you enjoy this. This takes place in Modern Times in London. I apologize, for I do not know how to address a letter in England, and it's VERY different than in America for some reason!
I'm still working on KuroShiro, I just had to write this, though. This is spawned from a roleplay done on an ordinary day in my anime-infused life.
I'm hungry and you wanna read some fanfics, so…Please enjoy!
I do not own Kuroshitsuji! I promises you.
I sighed, shuffling my feet through the leaves that littered the sidewalk. It had been a long and irritating day at school, so bad that I ended up just leaving in the middle of fifth hour. I'd had absolutely enough of their incessant…incessant…IDIOCY!
"Come on, Elias, lighten up!" shouted the largest of the three gorilla-like jocks that stood anterior me. His burly hand came to rest on my blonde hair, ruffling it as if he were a father congratulating his son. I was not amused.
"I'm not going to sit here while you treat me like a piece of trash," I stated, smacking his hand aside in an attempt to get it off.
"Oh, so the girly boy is standing up for himself?" taunted another, flicking my forehead. I brought a hand up to my face, rubbing at the spot as if trying to get the germs off my person. I gave him a defiant glare, which was forcefully and effectively slapped off my face by the third, causing the rest of me to follow suit, my hip painfully slamming into the corner of the desk, glasses flying off my face and skidding across the white floor. I yelped in pain—unfortunately very undignified-ly.
I struggled to straighten myself out, the pain in my hip controlling most of my movements. I looked over, angered even more by their closed-eyed laughing. I wanted them to see the pure fury I was absolutely sure was shining in my dark blue eyes. I wanted them to be afraid, if only for a moment.
I scooted myself over to my glasses, picking them up and hobbling out the door, leaning against the wall until the pain subsided enough for me to rush out the double doors and feel nothing but the cold, October wind and my feet slapping against the pavement.
I'd run out of breath long ago, hadn't been paying attention to where I was going. I couldn't tell you where I was anymore, I wouldn't be surprised if I'd been so mad I'd just ran across England, across the sea, and was now somewhere in France. I chuckled. 'haha,' I thought. 'That's not even funny.'
A strong gust of wind brought me out of my trance as my glasses were suddenly whisked off my numb face. Sighing once more, I headed for them. It wasn't like they were 100% valuable anymore, seeing as they had a huge crack in the right lens. I went for them anyway. Mum might want an explanation as to why I couldn't use my old ones, so I'd have to show her…not that she would notice. Her business trips would definitely keep her from it for a while.
I walked onto a smoother path, one surprisingly void of the brown, crimson, and golden leaves I'd been trotting over the whole way here. I bent to pick up the glasses, sighing and folding them once I realized they'd been bent and twisted somehow as they landed. As I stuffed the useless things into my pocket, I felt a chill run down my spine. I jerked up, shivering. 'This isn't a chill you get from cold,' I realized, 'it's the chill you get from being watched!' I frantically looked around, only then realizing what lay right before me.
I was standing on the sidewalk to the biggest manor I'd ever seen.
The gargantuan building was shrouded in darkness, its spires spiraling to the heavens, as if trying to reach God himself. The towering windows revealed navy—no—midnight blue curtains. Above the front door, a fruit fly of a thing compared to this enormous building, sat the letter P, its gold leafing shimmering in the darkness. Despite its old appearance, the place altogether seemed well maintained.
An amazed "whoa" escaped my lips unnoticed as my feet began shuffling towards the manor. I couldn't control them, not that I really wanted to. Something about this place…it was…calling me.
I slowed to a stop as the front door was the only thing keeping me from the inside of this great place. Observing the small, careful details of the woodwork and the silver-leafed doorknob, my hand slowly rose on its own. It wrapped around the handle and slightly turned before I realized what I was even doing. I shook my head, removing my hand.
'What are you doing?" I mentally screamed at myself. 'This place is probably abandoned. And I doubt anyone who lives in a place like this would be all that sociable, let alone pleasant.' Crossing my arms, I turned on my heel to leave, facing the sidewalk I'd just abandoned. I begged my feet to carry me back down, but I just couldn't move. I just couldn't. Slowly turning back around, I reached for the handle once more.
"What are you doing?" Came a pleasant voice, almost causing me to fall over. I ended up standing on one leg, arms in front of my face, the other leg protecting my lower abdomen and everything in that…area. Staring back at me, arms folded behind her, was a girl. Her short, red hair was pulled back into a small ponytail that just barely made it, bright hazel eyes shining with curiosity.
"W-wha-!?" I managed. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest, its pace nearing that which might end up in cardiac arrest. They girl simply giggled. "W-who are you?"
Moving her arms forward, I noticed they black jacket she was wearing over, presumably, a school uniform hung low over her hands as she extended one to me. With a smile, she replied, "My name is Abigail, but everyone calls me Abbie."
Slowly returning to a standing position that didn't reflect the frightened animal trying to leap away inside me, I cleared my throat.
"Elias," It –unfortunately—didn't come out as macho as I wished it had. My paranoia kept me from taking her hand…er…jacket sleeve.
"Nice to meet cha~," she declared happily, going back to her original standing position as well. "So…what were you doing?"
I hesitated, wondering if I should admit to trespassing and just about to be breaking and entering. I decided against it, coming out with "I…I was coming home from school," She tilted her head.
"Oh, so you live here, then?"
"No…"
"Oh, well that's good," she started, "cause that place is haunted." I blinked. Haunted? Glancing up at the building before me, I barely had time to register the slight moving of a single curtain before realizing the girl standing beside me was gone.
"H…Haunted…?"
Ciel Phantomhive peered amusedly out the cold window. The confused and slightly terrified look on the blonde boy's face caused his pink lips to turn up in a smile.
"Sebastian," he called, the butler immediately appearing by his side. "Now would be good."
"Yes, my lord,"
The sharp ringing of the school bell brought me out of my daze. I stood, stretching, before quickly gathering my things and leaving to get to my locker. Ever since I'd stumbled across it, I couldn't get the manor or that 'Abbie' girl out of my head. My latest homework scores reflected. Even though I'd been trying to focus in class and tell myself I'd dreamt that whole escapade up, I couldn't shake the fact that it was real. I sighed, just needing to get my brain back together before my head fell off.
I walked into my next class on auto-pilot just before the bell rang; taking a seat near the door to make sure I'd be first out. Since this was the last class of the day, I'd likely have people to deal with afterwards. This would be the best place to sit if I wanted a head start to my locker before they assembled to chase me home or something.
"Man, I hate people," I muttered, pulling out my class notebook, awaiting the voice of my frog-like History teacher who insisted on being called 'Professor'. When it didn't come, I began looking around. All the students were in their seats, but the professor was nowhere to be seen. I barely registered a flash of red in the window before one rather loud student started to complain, gaining our attention.
"Where's the teacher an' what the 'eck is 'e doin'?" he let out, holding his arms out in front of him for emphasis. The other kids began to mutter amongst themselves, coming up with ridiculous answers. After about twenty minutes of class time spent doing nothing but talking, a girl I recognized as the head of the cheerleading squad stood.
"Let's just go," She offered. "If 'e's not 'ere now, then 'e's probably not gonna show up." After being met with about a dozen nods, her 'followers' stood as well, heading for the door. She did have a point, after all. I stood too, realizing that if I just left now, I'd beat all the idiots and be able to leave excused, seeing as no one would have proof our teacher was gone if he wasn't here and neither was a substitute.
Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a tall man. He had pale skin and black hair, neatly cut yet not so neat as to make me think him extremely full of himself. Then again, if anyone appeared to have spent that much time on their hair, I could pretty much guarantee they were. He wore a black suit, strange enough for someone in this day and time to be seen in, but the strangest thing about him was his eyes. They shone a deep crimson, almost as if you could drown in blood just by looking at them. As handsome a man he would be considered, he had an aura to him suggesting he wished to kill the very students in front him. I seriously hoped he wasn't some kind of mass murderer. His mouth tilted up into a devilish smile, his eyes closing, making him appear much happier than he obviously was.
"Thank you for such a welcome, but I merely got lost finding my way back from the lavatory. If you would care to take a seat, I would love to introduce myself and use the remaining thirty minutes to try and teach you something." He smoothly said in an unexpectedly tenor voice. The class quickly shuffled back to their seats and sat down, me being the first to do so. The man glided over to the white board, writing in professional-looking calligraphy 'Mr. Sebastian Michaelis' on the bleach surface. I'll admit, I was incredibly astounded at this man's writing! The man put down the black dry-erase marker and turned towards us, clasping his hands together.
"Shall we, then?"
I stuffed my things in my locker quickly, not bothering to get out the homework I knew I had to do. If I dallied too long, they'd definitely find me. I slammed the metal door shut and began briskly walking towards the nearest exit.
"'ey, Loser!" I cringed. There could only be one person they're talking to...
Turning around slowly, I replied with a short, "Yes?" Suddenly, my feet left the ground and I was face-to-face with a tall, stocky kid with the greasiest brown hair I'd ever seen. He held tightly to me by the front of my shirt. The fabric was probably ever-so-slightly ripping.
"I hear ye got yer dead grandpa's ghost to kill the teacher. So tell me, how'd ya call 'im?" His breath held the most rancid scent I'd smelled in days. Despite this, I made an effort to look cool and collected. It was true that the new professor—Michaelis, was it?—had given an illegitimate reason for his new arrival here (he'd claimed the old professor was on maternity leave, although he was a man), but I'd just passed it off as a resignation or that he was helping whatever girlfriend he could possibly have with her own maternity what not.
"I didn't summon a ghost," I responded coolly, "you'd have to be an absolute idiot to believe in ghosts or anything like that." I fought a smirk forming at the corners of my mouth as I watched the jerk's face twist in anger. The urge was short-lived though, as he shouted out, "You're right, 'e's probably coverin' up whatever relationship he had wiv ye. Students and teachers aren't allowed to do that kind of thing, ya'know!" He wagged his finger in my face tauntingly, dropping me back to the earth. I balled my fists.
"What kind of person do you think I am!? I'm not gay, and if I were, what would make you think I'd chose a fat, old pedophile like the Professor?!" I retorted (much more loudly than I'd hoped). I gritted my teeth together until they threatened to chip. I was about to add on to my statement when I heard the polite clearing of a throat behind me.
Turning slowly, I was met by the smiling face and dark aura of a Professor Sebastian Michaelis.
"Mister Knox," he chirped, "would you please follow me?"
'I'm going to die.'
I marched solemnly behind my new teacher, taking a seat at my regular desk by the door once inside the room. 'If he kills me, someone will see it….just as long as I stay here.' Running this over and over in my mind, I fidgeted when the dark-haired teacher closed the door, blocking me from view.
"Elias Edward Knox," he started. My eyes widened at his use of my legal full name.
"H-how do you know my name?" I stuttered. My father had given me the name Edward in honor of an ancestor of mine. When my parents had their divorce, my mother stopped writing 'Edward' on anything. Even school documents said my name was different. I wasn't sure what, though.
"I have a proposition for you," he avoided. The suit-clad man reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. Scribed in Professor Michaelis' penmanship was my full name. As I turned the envelope over in my hands, I noticed it was sealed with wax. Engraved in the hardened liquid was the letter "P", in the exact same script written above that door from my…dream? Slowly, I pulled away the seal, plucking a letter from the insides of the off-white envelope. Carefully unfolding the crisply creased paper, I read.
Ciel Phantomhive
Elias Edward Knox
63 Bruce Rd, London, England, United Kingdom
LONDON NW10020
Dear Mister Elias Knox
I would like to personally meet you to make this deal. Please allow my butler, Sebastian, to escort you to my home. I'm sure you'll find it familiar.
Ciel Phantomhive
I blinked. What would some business owner want with me?
'It's probably some old pedophile,' I mentally scoffed. My eyes wandered back over to the smiling Sebastian. 'He's a butler? No wonder he dresses that way…' I looked back down at the paper. Even though the possibility of my virginity being taken was likely, I felt like I needed to meet this Ciel Phantomhive person. I once again glanced at the butler.
"Alright, I'll go." I replied flatly. The smile and aura was back.
What had I gotten myself into?!
For a moment after we left, I'd wondered how my mother would react to me not arriving home on time. That thought was quickly shoved away when I remembered her constant phone calls and business trips. If she was home, she wouldn't notice, not for a few hours at least. I had plenty of time.
Next, I wondered how the school would react to Professor Michaelis taking me home. He, as if reading my mind, soon explained that he had –amazingly—forged my mother's (terrible) handwriting into a note allowing him to 'take me home'. It was then that just how much danger I may be in sank in. You'd think it'd happen much longer before, but no. I repetitively reminded myself of my current relationship status with anyone and was able to shove that thought away, too. Now it was just a cold, car ride to some guy's business.
The ride was long and quiet. Neither of us said a word after we'd left onto the highway west towards Chigwell. I vaguely recognized streets and sights, as if I'd seen them recently, but I couldn't remember from where. My thoughts swallowed me as I tried to place why and where and when I'd been here before. I was pulled from them as the luxurious car jerked to a halt. I blinked and looked around a few times, spotting nothing.
"Where are we?" I questioned. The professor/butler unlocked the doors before simply answering, "The master's house,"
We walked for a good ten minutes before anything came into view. What did come into view, though, I recognized instantly. It was the large manor from my dream.
I was once again awestruck, though being bitten by the suddenly freezing air brought me back to reality. I followed the black-haired man diligently as he walked up the sidewalk and unlocked the wooden door. He pushed it open and bowed, the old-looking door not creaking once.
If I were paying better attention, I would have been stifling laughs at just how un-professor-like he was at this very moment, but the chill and wonder of this place had me elsewhere.
Once my school jacket was off and hanging on a very nicely-carved coatrack, I was lead up a gloriously large flight of stairs. The halls I was lead through were ornate and beautiful, a new picture hanging every few meters. There were light patterns of some kind of vine on the wallpaper, which was so faint, it wasn't tacky. Expensive-looking vases sat on tables, filled with large flowers. 'I'd hate to break one of those,' I thought as we passed a Ming Dynasty vase. I could just see the scene in my head: Accidentally bumping it and watching it fall to the ground as I tried to catch it by the small handle on the side. It'd take forever to pay off a debt like that. I stuck to the other side of the hallway after that. Sebastian barely acknowledged my move. He slowed to a stop in front of a large, oak door and knocked politely.
"My lord," he stated, "your guest has arrived."
"You may enter," rang from the other side of the door. The voice was slightly feminine. Definitely not what I was expecting. The butler opened the door and led me, once again, inside. He placed a hand over his heart and bowed in the direction of a large chair, its occupant hidden by shadows. A plush chair was pulled back for me to sit in. I reluctantly did so.
"So…" I started.
"You're wondering what kind of deal I'd like to make?" the person behind the desk folded their hands and leaned on them, awaiting my reply.
"Yes," I answered.
"Well, what do you want most?" What did I want most? What kind of question is that?
"I don't know,"
"You don't know?"
"I don't know."
"hmm," he released one hand and let it rap on the desk. "Sebastian?"
"Yes, my lord?" the dark-haired man replied.
"You saw him at school; can you give him a suggestion?" He was growing impatient, I could tell.
"Certainly," he bowed once again before leaning down beside me. "What about a companion?" he smoothly suggested. I jumped, slightly repulsed. Did he not hear the ridiculously loud outburst of mine?
"What?"
"A companion. Not necessarily in any sort of physical relationship, just someone to keep you company," he clarified. "A friend."
My brain shot down. 'I don't have friends, and I don't want them' I wanted to reply. But somewhere deep in me, I knew that wasn't true. It wouldn't come out. 'No one likes me,' I thought, 'and I'm not going to hire some guy to do it.' Despite my thoughts, I nodded.
"Very well, then," I could hear the smirk in his voice. I blinked.
"V-very well, then?" I stuttered. 'What's this guy on? Doesn't he realize what he's doing?'
"I'll be your friend, on one condition," He replied. "I get your soul in return." I blinked.
"My soul?" I was met with a curt nod. "Why do you want my soul?"
"You see," he stated, "I am a demon."
I blinked a few times before suddenly being overtaken with giggles. The giggles soon turned into laughs, and the laughs soon turned into something undefinable. I wasn't making noise anymore, and I could barely stay in my seat. Both people seemed to stare at me. Catching my breath, I finally choked out, "A d-demon?! Like there's any such thing! Haha!" The two remained stone-faced as I laughed. Their stoicness made me start to second-guess. The laughs died down quickly, until they were not more than small hiccups of breathy chuckles. "R-right?"
"That would be a 'wrong'."
"So…what you're saying is…you're a demon, and you want my soul, and in exchange, I'll have a friend?" I questioned.
"That would be correct," answered the slightly feminine voice. I chuckled again.
"As if that's fair. No deal," I made a cutting motion with my hand for emphasis. Even so, it didn't feel right. Something was telling me I needed to accept his request. I got a sigh in return.
"Very well, then. If you wish to live your life as you previously have, be my guest. Sebastian—"
"Wait," I cut him off. His attention seemed to be drawn back towards me. "If I make this deal, I can break it any time, yes?" I was replied with a nod. Weighing my choices, I finally blurted out, "alright. You have a deal."
I could almost hear the smirk on his face. "Fantastic," I barely had time to react before a burning sensation washed through me. The skin on my forearm felt like it was being pulled by tiny threads, the needles pricking everywhere before lighting on fire and melting into my skin. Someone screamed, and I realized the sound had been ripped from my own throat.
"I am Ciel Phantomhive. From this day forth, I shall serve you."
Sorry for any typos, and I apologize to the British people reading this about my letter writing skills. Maybe you can (please) tell me how to address one? Also, if you live at that address, I'd love to know. It'd be awesome to know because it'd be all like "Hey, the person who reviewed my fanfiction lives at the address I gave my OC!" ha…just kidding, (it would be pretty cool, though. Seriously.)
Enough rambling from me.
Reviews, please! And I promise Abbie isn't just a show up and go away character! She has a role! :D