Now, I am going to try to write a new Kuroshitsuji fic, since I was so bad at the twilight ones! So, manga/anime fans, I am going to attempt YAOI! It will be SebaXCiel, and set in the 1800's, obviously. Ciel will be his normal age. First up, disclaimer and warnings!
Disclaimer: Even though I LOVE Kuroshitsuji, I am too lazy to create an army to overthrow Yana Toboso! So no ownership for me D:
Warning: Gore, blood, possible language!
Chapter 1: His Master, Escaping
December 15th, 1887
Ciel lay in the bin, cold as a polar bear with no fur. Winter had come late, and it was hitting hard. It had started hailing; every hail stone sounding like a rock, being thrown at the dustbin(1) 12 year old Ciel was lying in, under a pile of newspapers, and rotting fruits.
Ciel shivered in his ragged and torn clothes, his teeth chattering. He ached to be given the privilege to sit in front of a warm fire, with warm clothes, and a mother and father to curl up to. However, he no longer had a home, or a mother and father. He had nothing left. Except his life.
He clung to every trace of warmth, hugging himself to try to keep warm. Even though he needed sleep, he kept his eye and ears open and alert. Every few hours, he would hear a carriage or train pass by, and he would jump with fright, but it was starting to wear out Ciel's fragile body. A convulsion heaved through his fragile frame, making his numb body too tired to shiver or move anymore.
Ciel's heavy lids slid shut without his permission, and he sank into an unconsciousness that he did not like. He dreamed of the day before, when his estate had burned down, with his parents trapped inside, where they burned to death. Then, he had been grabbed by some unknown people with white cloaks and masks, where they branded him with a mark of slavery. He had somehow gotten away, a way he couldn't remember, and had hid himself in the bin, knowing they wouldn't look for him there…
The honk of a loud horn woke Ciel with a start. He jumped and choked back a scream of terror. He was no warmer than a few hours earlier. He groaned, and sat up in the bin, to feel some rotten eggs slide off his head and fall with a light plop beside him and his blackened, soot covered feet.
When he tried to prop himself up to crawl to the edge of the bin, he banged his sore head on the tough iron of the bin and gave a muffled cry of pain. Ciel placed his fingers in the crack of light and pushed upwards. He somehow managed to open the lid of the bin, but his weak, bony fingers gave out and dropped the lid, right onto them. He yelped in agony, and salty tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes. Ciel yanked his fingers from under the lid and cradled them against his chest. He decided to try using all of his power to force the bin lid open, and hopefully give him enough time to leap out.
Ciel lay on his bony back and raised his legs until his feet reached the lid of the bin. He then raised his weak arms and aching fingers to touch the bin lid. He winced as a shot of pain coursed through his body. He then summoned all of his power, and heaved the bin lid up.
A loud creak could be heard all the way down the alley behind the popular little cafe, and a member of staff poked his head out the back door to see what the noise was.
He was surprised to see a bin lid partially open, and rushed to investigate.
He opened the lid all the way and couldn't believe his eyes. A small boy was lying before him, thin enough that he should be dead by now, and his dark blue gray hair was full of oil and it was spiked up in an extreme way(2). His nose had a thick trail of blood leading down to his jaw which was covered in lacerations. His lips were dry, cracked and bleeding, and were twisted into a frown. But it was his eyes that scared him the most. His large sapphire blue eyes looked hollow and empty, and full of sorrow. Ciel quickly reared up and grabbed onto the man's shirt collar and looked into his eyes with a look of pleading. The man shrieked in terror and slapped Ciel back down into the bin, leaving his fingers jammed betweem the lid and the bin,not caring when he whimpered with pain.
The man turned on his heel and ran inside the café while screaming to the manager, "THERE WAS AN ALIEN CHILD IN THE BIN OUTSIDE! CALL THE POLICE!"
The manager nodded and ran to the phone. He picked up the phone and quickly entered the number for the police station. He waited a few seconds and passed it to the staff member.
Ciel knew in the pit of his stomach he was probably going to die soon. His stomach wouldn't stop growling, his mouth was dry and he was only a touch warmer than before after some sun had touched his face. Ciel realised his only hope was to make noise, to make someone come running to get him out.
Ciel curled his hands into fists and began loudly pounding the bin, yearning that someone would hear his final call. For if this failed, he knew he would surely die.
The red and blue police carriage ground to a halt outside the infamous café. A beefy policeman with a large moustache jumped out of the carriage, 2 guns in his belt. He rushed into the café, breaking down the door in his haste. Many women screamed and clutched their children closer to them, and men's faces turned white. The policeman strode through the café while barking, "Would the member of staff who saw this alien child please come forward!" The young man shot forward like a bullet from a gun, eager to rid the café of the child, and the possible alienity he was passing on to everyone else (3). The staff member yelped in surprise when the policeman grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He carried the shorter man to the alley, kicked open the door and threw him into the street. The policeman strode casually into the alley.
BANG! BANG BANG!
A loud noise startled the men, and the policeman took out a different gun, this one loaded with tranquilizer shots, and started pacing forwards slowly, with the gun held out at arm's length. He slowly came closer to the bin, and placed his hand against the bin. A hard object banged against his, and he jumped back in fright. With sweat dripping into his eyes, the policeman whipped open the bin with one hand and shot the child in the arm with the other. The child screamed in obvious agony, and slumped to his makeshift floor made up of rotten steaks and newspapers. The boys eyes slid shut, and his whole body relaxed into a deep sleep.
After the policeman was sure the boy was asleep, he reached into the bin and gingerly picked up the child, and wrinkled his nose at the stench coming off his body. The man cradled Ciel's body against his chest, nodded to the staff member and started moving slowly through the alley trying not to jostle the child, to the bright road where the coach awaited him. The footman jumped down, bowed and opened the carriage door. The policeman nodded to him, and carried the boy inside. The policeman quickly laid the boy down on the makeshift bed opposite his seat laden with a big, fluffy pillow, sheets and a comforter. The policeman tucked the sheets up around Ciel's neck, and whispered to him in a stern voice, "Boy. You're in a heap of trouble."
(1). go onto google images, type in skip bin, and add a lid on top. That is the kind of bin I was imagining when i wrte this. maybe a bit small, but you get the idea ^_^
(2). As some people may know, egg whites are used to create massive spikes. And because Ciel had eggs thrown on his head, and the yolks slid off, well, his hair decided to spike.
(3). Many people in the 1800's and early 1900's believed 'alien' people could infect others. So hence the reason the staff member wanted to rid the café of Ciel. Poor Ciel. He must have sore fingers.
Well readers (if I even have any O.o), I thought the story was OK, but i wont know if you like it unless you press the little button down there and review, favourite and add to alerts! I editied this first chapter HEAPS to make sure it was my best possible writing...
So again, review and stuff, and I hope to see you in the next chapter!