Method in the Madness
Summary:Remus is a poor East Ender looking for work, on one fateful day he meets Sirius Black, the owner of the Black Funeral Parlor in Victorian England. Little does Remus know that this notorious Black has a dark secret that drags him down and might be the end of them both. Not to mention that Sirius is wanted for his 'skill' by a cult called the "Death Eaters". Victorian AU
A/N: This story is VERY dark, bullying, murder, and a lot of other unsavory things! So please, if it offends you then don't read my story!
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An eerie light slithered through the curtains like a poisonous snake, it radiated from the dark walls and seemed to shimmer. Stormy gray eyes watched the enchanting moonlight with little interest, his eyes roved lazily on the seen before him. The moth-eaten curtains were familiar to him, as was the paintings on the walls of long dead relatives. Never had it occurred to him that this room in particular was 'creepy', it was home to him, but to other people he figured that maybe the ambiance would be a little too much.
The next thing he let his eyes drift over to was a mass on the stone floor. It rose in tune with its raspy breathing, it was turned away from him in a fetal position so he could not tell if it was conscious or not. His hand drifted to his knife, the metal glinted in the moonlight with sinister intent and he admired it for a moment.
"Are you awake?" He questioned quietly, listening for the slightest change in breathing. The quite rasping stilled for what seemed like an eternity before he got any reply.
"W-Why am I here?" A trembling voice piped up, Sirius sighed and got to his feet. His footsteps seemed to echo in the small room, it's stone flooring improving the ambiance of the situation. He greatly relished in the sound and was grateful that he had fought tooth and nail in favor of keeping this room free from carpeting of any sort.
"I do believe I am here to ask the questions, my good sir...What was your name again?" He stopped in front of the window, at first facing it but then turning to see his silhouette against the stone.
"M-My name is...William Ramsay...I'd aught think you know of my name..." He said nervously from his place on the ground, Sirius could hear him squirming.
"Ah, yes...How rude of me to forget! William Ramsay...A very infamous Tax Collector, am I not correct?" Sirius wasn't a fan of dallying around and nearly always cut to the chase. Especially when he was dealing with 'business'.
"I-I do my job at that is all that is needed of me...I am a God-fearing man." Ramsay spat out, forgetting for a moment whose rules he was playing by. In response, Sirius slammed his boot down and knelt before the restrained man, grabbing his graying hair roughly.
"I did not ask you if you were a 'God-fearing man', I don't care about who or what you fear. Right now your main priority should be me, not God!" Ramsay whimpered in response, pleading with mud brown eyes to be let go.
"I've heard that around the East End of London you have been...Less than pious in you endeavors to steal every mans money. Resorting to threatening and stealing, accepting requests from the whores even though you have a wife and children at home!" Sirius let the statement hang in the air, letting the paling man stir in his own self-pity.
"I've watched you, William Ramsay, not because I hold any...Special interest in you, but because I've wondered if I should judge you for your sins against us," Sirius fiddled with his knife again and held it up to the light. It glinted dangerously, and Ramsay's eyes grew as big as the expensive tea saucers that Mrs. Black served her tea on.
"I've seen every brothel you've been in, every child and women you've hit, and every man you have intimidated with fear. I believe it is safe to say that you," he traced the tip of the knife lazily on Ramsay's porky hand, "deserve to die." Ramsay's eyes began to water and tears leaked from terrified eyes.
"Please! Never again, I swear!" He howled in terror, squirming like a pig whom had one of its limbs taken off. Sirius smiled at him idly, pricking the man to spook him even more.
"I know this sounds terribly dry, but any last words William Ramsay?" The dark-haired youth chuckled mirthlessly.
"Only God can judge me...Not the Devil incarnate himself." At this Sirius's façade hardened considerably, as did the atmosphere in the room.
"God you say? Well, that is a laugh, I must say. However, you shouldn't speak such harsh words about the next entity you are going to be meeting, besides me." With that said, Sirius looked at the window and cursed when he noticed that the moon was making it's descent downward. This had taken too long and it was going to put him behind schedule, if it came to the worst he would be caught by his own family members. That was something that he wanted to avoid most of all.
He turned back to the whimpering mass of a man that was huddled on the stone floor. He chuckled once more and slashed at the man's throat. Shredding apart his jugular with several arcs of his knife, he couldn't help but admire the beauty of it all. It was like his steel extension was a paintbrush that was only used for different shades of passionate red and crimson.
Such beautiful warm paints that flowed out of a human's body, he wasn't one of those quacks who only went on and on about the beauties of paintings, wine, and women, he truly appreciated the beauty of one's life. It was only when a person disregarded that beauty of life, that Sirius felt that he needed to take action against such sinners.
He looked upon his work, smiling proudly when he saw the spatters of crimson that had spilled out. Though, his smile fell when he realized he had to clean all of it up. Sighing to himself, annoyed that he let himself get carried away again, he began to clean up by dragging the body silently to the basement.
In the basement, there was a rather large oven that had just enough room for a human body. He scrunched up the corpse into the cramped space and searched around for the lamp they kept down there. He finally found it, and without time to spare he lit it and tossed it into the oven along with wood, shutting the door and locking it.
Sighing in relief, he padded upstairs to the kitchen and placed on a black apron that he used for work to hide his bloodied clothes. He grabbed a bucket and filled it water from the family well and began to clean the room up. When the room was successfully clean (and the water in the bucket was crimson itself), he opened the window and emptied it in the rose bushes below.
He took a moment to stare at the roses, blossoming quite beautifully, he wondered if it was from the almost daily watering or if it was from the added 'minerals' in the water. Shrugging to himself, he shut the window and headed off to his room. He changed into his night wear and collapsed upon the bed in exhaustion.
"I really need to get my priorities straight..." He yawned out and rested his head among the pillows, he only had a few hours before he had to wake up and go to work at the Funeral Home just down the street.
"Sirius Orion Black! You need to wake up and drag your worthless body downstairs!" His mother screamed up the stairs, the house being as big as it was, needlessly to say her voice echoed.
Sirius groaned and turned over, smashing his pillow over his head to keep out the woman's scratchy voice. Even through the pillow he could hear the doorknob turning, he grinned when he heard it open completely and the padding of tiny feet.
"ROAR!" He leaped out and grabbed his tiny brother and tickled him, the nine-year old laughed gleefully and tried to get away from his older brother.
"S-Sirius st-stop!" Regulus shrieked, trying to slap Sirius's hands.
"That's what you get when you mess with me in the morning Reg!" He laughed and put his younger brother down, messing up his hair affectionately.
"Come on, I think mum is going to kill us if we don't go down for breakfast!" Instead of heeding his older brother's advice, Regulus threw himself down on the bed and raised his arms expectantly. Sirius faked a groan and picked him up.
"You are going to get too heavy for me to pick up, Reg..." Sirius grunted and pouted when his younger copy smacked him playfully on the head.
"'M not fat Sirius!" The elder just patted his head and sat him down on a chair, taking the one opposite of him. Mrs. Walburga Black was seated beside him and was drinking her breakfast tea as refined as any other English Noble. Both of Sirius's parents were of Noble lineage, however, their line was one of the lesser known noble families. Not to say they were poor, far from it in fact! Sirius could never work a day in his life and still have money left over for a grand estate in the country if he wanted to. Besides, if Buckingham Palace suddenly exploded Sirius and his brother would find themselves as princes of England.
"Sirius, have you thought about what we talked about?" His father, Orion Black, asked curtly. He seated himself at the head of the table, staring down his son with gray unforgiving eyes.
"Not really, I just don't see myself as the...'marrying' type." He said offhandedly, expecting his fingernails in favor of looking his father in the face.
"What?!" Mrs. Black snapped, looking up from her tea with a disapproving glare. Sirius shrugged in response.
"I don't have my own home, nor a carriage, nor anything a woman could want..." He listed off, grabbing a piece of toast that the serving girl laid out for them.
"We can buy you a home, a carriage, and anything you would need." Walburga spat, putting down her delicate tea cup.
"Fine, the real problem is...Well...I don't want to get married...I want to work and I want to...Do whatever I want!" He dared look up, seeing the red face of his father and the frightened face of his brother.
"You, Sirius, have a duty to this family. That duty, is to produce an heir to the Black name. If you do not then we do not need you in this family." Mr. Black said in a businesslike manner, drinking his tea calmly. Sirius sighed and got up from the table, sending a secret smile to his younger brother.
"Well, I'm opening up the shop early today...I have a feeling some new customers are coming in this afternoon." He called over his shoulder, hiding his expression from his family. The devilish smirk would possibly tip off his parents, they'd been warned about the mysterious disappearances taking London by storm.
He chuckled to himself and unlocked the door to his family's shop, switching the sign as he passed the window. He turned his back to the door and bent over to get an urn off of the ground.
The bell above the door jingled and the teen straightened up, putting on his most charming and innocent smile. He turned around and greeted his newest customer.
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A/N: Long time no see guys! Well, I've worked through my personal problems and some other things...Anyway, I got rid of some of my other stories since I probably wasn't going to work on them again, sorry! I hope you enjoyed this, dear reader! Until next time~
Note: Sorry for the random changes in Font, I'll fix that in my other chapters, for some reason it ended up messed up DX