Warnings: none

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso and she's freaking awesome

Summary: An evil spirit haunts the Phantomhive manor, and three of the Phantomhive servants are determined to exorcize it. Will they be successful, or will their plans take an unexpected turn?

The night was cold and gusty, and the winds outside dramatically swayed the trees. Inside the Manor house, however, it was quiet, warm, and calm. In fact, the house was almost dead silent, which was certainly unusual. What wasn't unusual was that despite the late hour, all three of the house's servants were holed up in the kitchen, talking quietly.

"Bard, what're you doing with that package?" whispered Mey-rin from a corner of a kitchen, suppressing a smile and trying to look stern, "It doesn't look like cooking supplies. Don't tell me it's…"

"Yup," the chef said with a grin, "but hush up about it, 'k? I don't want Mr. Sebastian catching wind."

The maid sighed dramatically, rolling pretty eyes behind over-sized glasses.

"You never learn, do you?"

Mey-rin was curled up on a small, wooden chair. Her hand, extended far from her face, was holding a ripped-up book. She squinted intently at it, leaning backward in her chair, and every so often, flipping one of the torn pages.

Finny, the gardener of the household, was sitting at the kitchen table with a pencil and paper, writing. It was a skill he had mastered recently, writing with a pencil. He'd had a difficult time learning to apply the right amount of pressure to the paper, but he'd learned eventually. It had taken weeks, but he'd learned, and he was proud of it too. Even though all his letters were sideways or misshapen, he was unbelievably proud.

Outside a gust of wind blew. It swept through a crack in the window and over the kitchen table, sweeping Finny's paper to the floor.

"Aww man," he mumbled, scooting his chair back with a squeak and sinking to the floor. "I'll have to close that window, huh?"

After a few grabs, the gardener closed his hand around the paper. It was thin and delicate, so much so that he was almost afraid to touch it. It was too delicate for someone like him.

Finny was standing up when the other servants screamed.

Heart racing, the gardener snapped his eyes upward. The room was quiet. Mey-rin and Baldroy looked at him in sheer terror, as if he had bugs crawling all over. Finny looked down at himself, but nothing was out of the ordinary.

"What?" he asked the other two servants sharply, "What is it?"

At first, they said nothing. They both looked at each other, and then back at Finny. Both of their hands were on the pistols strapped at their sides. Baldroy was the first to speak.

"There… there was something behind you."

Finny spun, his heart racing, but all he saw was the wall. He looked back at Bard, confused. The chef sighed.

"Not now, but I coulda sworn I saw it."

Mey-rin nodded, her face grim.

"I saw it too," she said quickly, her eyes darting around, "It was like… some sort of man. But, see-through. Like a ghost."

Finny shivered. "I don't much like ghosts."

The other servants said nothing, but silently they agreed. This wasn't the first time the threesome had encountered strange things in the Phantomhive manor. It left them paranoid and jumpy, adrenaline permanently coursing through their veins. The possibility of a ghost bothered all of the servants more than the certainty of intruders that frequented the manor almost every night. It wasn't logical, but it was the way people were. Scared of the unknown, even if the known was far scarier.

Baldroy exhaled, taking a drag out of his cigarette before tossing it away and stomping on it.

"It was probably nothing. A trick of the light, or a shadow. Whatever it was, it's really late and we should be gettin' to bed."

The other two servants nodded their agreement, Finny with a large yawn. They looked back and forth at each other before, slowly, each of them stood up and stretched out. They all walked quietly to the door, as if they were afraid to wake a person who was sleeping under the floor. All of them would have a nightmare that night. Not that nightmares were unusual.

.

Thump.

The book fell to a table, a wave of dust in its wake. The dust made Bard cough violently into his hand.

"Baldroy, what is that?" Squeaked Mey-rin from across the kitchen. She was dusting off some pans with a dirty towel. It was unnecessary work, but it made her feel somewhat useful and she did it often.

Baldroy looked over at the maid, giving her his signature 'I'm up to no good' grin.

"Nothing," he said innocently, turning back to his book and delicately opening the cover.

Mey-rin gave a sarcastic "uh-huh" from her corner before dropping her towel and walking over to her co-worker. "Really Bard, don't expect me to believe you. I may be clumsy, but I'm not dumb. I know most of the time Mr. Sebastian has to yank your teeth to force you to read. Lemme see the cover."

Grinning, Baldroy flung his arms over the book and guarded it from Mey-rin's sight with his chest.

"Nope," he smirked, "it's a secret."

He got up and moved to a chair on the other end of the kitchen. He sat down and held the old book close to his face, squinting comically at it. Scowling, Mey-rin grit her teeth and marched over to the chef.

"Let me see it, Baldroy," she said angrily, swiping at the book with a thin hand. Bard quickly moved the book away, keeping his eyes down and pretending as if he didn't notice her. He lit a cigarette and stuffed it into his mouth, flipping a page of the book.

Infuriated but slightly amused, Mey-rin quickly came up with a plan. She launched one of her hands at the book, and when Bard pulled it away from her, she used her other hand to snatch it out of the chef's hands.

"Hey!" He complained, standing up, "I was reading that!"

He tried to chase after her, but Mey-rin was already on the other end of the kitchen. She was fast like that, much faster than Baldroy. He might've been a soldier, but she was thin, agile, and used to running after she completed an assassination.

Grinning, the maid looked down at the cover of the old book. Her grin faded when she read the cover.

"Really, Baldroy?" she drawled, "Exorcism? Are you off your bloody rocker?"

The chef huffed, crossing his arms and averting his eyes. The playful atmosphere had gone from the room and both of the servants had lost their smiles. Both servants felt as if something was crawling up their spine, or like they were being watched. There was a short silence.

"Come on, Mey," Bard said at last, "you saw that thing, well as I did! We're supposed to protect this manor from everything, right? It might be ou'landish, but that thing was there, we both saw it. A little precaution won't hurt anything."

Mey-rin didn't like it, but the more she thought about it, the more she agreed. What if there really was some kind of evil spirit terrorizing the manor? What if it put the young master in danger? If he died because of it, and they'd seen it and done nothing, it would be their fault.

"Fine," she lamented, "I guess you're right. 'ell, I'll even help you with this 'exorcism thing.' But we best keep hushed up about it, alright?

"That's what I was planning on doin', before some nosey girl got all up in my business," Bard winked at her, and she rolled her eyes behind thick frames.

"Yeah, whatever."

Falling into a kitchen chair, Mey-rin opened the book and invited Bard to sit next to her.

"Come on, we've got some exorcism to do."

.

It was late night when Finny walked into the kitchen. He had just finished writing an essay about Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities, and he was exhausted, and a little claustrophobic from all the time he'd spent inside.

Mey-rin and Baldroy were sitting next to each other at the kitchen (a rare occurrence). Finny couldn't see either of their heads, as they were hunched over the kitchen table, reading some sort of book. Finny crept closer to the pair, his eyes widening as he observed the random objects spewed across their table.

Piles of salt, garlic, and small, wooden crosses were everywhere, along with a few objects he couldn't identify. It was utterly chaotic, and a bit frightening to look at. Since when had his fellow servants believed in the occult? Paling, Finny inched away from his co-workers.

"They've gone mad," he muttered to himself, leaving the kitchen, "utterly insane."

.

Exorcism

copyright Fredrick Lardstein

Published by BOAE

Contents:

Basics of Exorcism 2

Common Errors 7

Identification 15

Exorcizing Ghosts 30

Exorcizing Demons 110

Exorcizing Strong Spirits 225

Excerpt from Page Eight:

"There are multiple types of evil spirits, the most common being the ghost. Ghosts are the easiest to exorcize, as they are the weakest type of spirit. Ghosts almost always appear a transparent white color, which strongly represents a person, often one who died in the area. Ghosts are best known for their rowdy behavior, and the noise they make, which will be described later on in this chapter.

The second most common type of evil spirit is the demon. These are hardest to exorcize, mostly because they vary widely in strength, appearance, and personality. Some demons are known to take physical forms, some look like a mere layer of mist. If your spirit does not fit the 'ghost' category, it is most likely a demon. Demons are discrete in their behavior and usually end up wreaking havoc after long periods of time. They should be acted upon immediately, and thoroughly.

If you are unaware of what type of spirit is bothering you, it's best to try all methods of exorcizing in hopes that one will be effective."

.

It was a quarter past midnight. Finally, Ciel Phantomhive was deep in slumber, and Sebastian Michaelis, for a few hours, was almost free. Slinking into the kitchen, the demon shut the door quietly behind himself and went to sit down in a chair.

Pale moonlight streamed through the kitchen and onto Sebastian as he sat, deep in thought as he gazed into the horizon. He sat like that for a few minutes before heaving a sigh and standing up again.

It was easy for the demon to get caught up in his own mind, as it was so complex, and often Sebastian had to drag himself back into reality. It was a shameful fact that he wouldn't ever tell a soul… the fact that he was a bit of dreamer. After living so many years, and knowing so many things, it was tempting to simply sit, and wonder.

But pondering things wasn't productive, so Sebastian tried not to ponder. Getting up from his seat in the kitchen, he decided he would finish the novels he'd purchased on asthma - all ten of them. He was just about to leave when something caught his eye.

One of the kitchen cabinets was slightly cracked open, just barely revealing the worn spine of a book. Sebastian was certain he'd never hid a book in the kitchen, and none of the servants bothered to read, so why was it there? And why was it hidden in a cabinet?

Cautiously, the demon sniffed the air. It smelt like… nothing. Nothing at all. Something was clogging his senses. Now on guard, Sebastian's eyes glowed a bright red, the light cutting through the night's gloom.

Slowly, Sebastian opened the cabinet, pulling out the book. The thing was dusty and frail, nearly crumbling in his hands. Tentatively, as not to crush the thing, Sebastian flipped the book over to have a look at the cover. The cover was fairly plain, blank with the exception of one word, written in golden print.

Exorcism.

The demon's eyes widened. Quickly, he flipped through the pages of the book, all the way to page 110. The page was bookmarked with half a sheet of paper, tucked neatly within the book's thin pages. Exorcizing Demons, the chapter title read.

At first, Sebastian could think nothing but 'how?' It hurt his impeccable pride to know the servants had found out, especially when he had been trying so hard to keep it a secret. They were nothing but a bunch of idiots, so how had they discovered his true nature? It was infuriating.

Then, Sebastian took a look inside the 'Exorcism' book, and then looked at the items in the cabinet. Slowly, the demon began to laugh. His laughter was quiet at first, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to hide it, but gradually it became louder until he couldn't control it anymore.

At last, the laughter died down and he put the book back in the cabinet.

"Good luck," he whispered to no one, and he left.

a/n: It's been just about a century since I've last written. Hopefully my writing is at least legible :) Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed, please please please review. I kinda need a lot of encouragement to keep writing lol (I admit it).