It was time.
The boy swallowed, delicate hands shaking as the glint of a silver knife fell from his very grasp. He was standing in a pool of red, a sickening array of fresh corpses laying before his polished shoes. It was a very macabre atmosphere, indeed.
His body was trembling uncontrollably — no, not from fear, that was for the weak. No.. it's… finished. Sapphire eyes were glazed over in triumph, a pale, empty expression regarded the alignment of death that surrounded him. Ciel could recall the screams of remorse and begging for mercy from only moments ago, his tiny hands curling themselves into fists as he fought to pull himself together.
His name, the Phantomhive name, has been restored, if only to Ciel. Those who have shamed him have faced the wrath tenfold. Stumbling away from the very last kill, the little noble found himself reaching forward aimlessly, only find his desperate hands grab hold of a very familiar coat tail. The once child shook his head, a hollow sound escaping his lips that was a demand. Slowly, he straightened, expression changing to that of authority, revealing the very last shreds of his pride, his dignity. Mismatched eyes met a devious crimson set as he gave his final order,
"Take me."