Hey everyone! This is my first fic, Kuro or otherwise, so please take care of me! Character torture isn't really my thing, so don't worry because anything legitimately bad that happens to any of our favorite characters will eventually be made up for and then some.~ Critiques, comments, and reviews are greatly appreciated! I wont bite you too hard, feel free to contact me. Oh! Thank you to my lovely beta DemonVampire13~
Warnings for violence, language and suggestive themes.
{EDIT: DV13 just made some changes with her beta-y-ness. Annnnd I've decided that this is now a modern day AU, simply because Sebastian needs a sexy sleek car. Yumyum.~ Don't worry, Ciel's still the Queen's bitch and Sebby's still his butler therefore still wears sexy dress clothes in all of his sexy goodness. The only differences are that 1) Ciels older, 17 to be exact. 2) They live in a Townhouse instead of a mansion. 3) Bigger firepower. 4) Sebastian's got a bitchin' car. If you find any inconsistencies with the time warp in this chapter let me know.}
His finger twitches, curling questioningly around his bindings. His consciousness is coming to the surface, water coming to a boil. His ocean-blue eyes flutter open with panic, lashes tickling the smooth fabric blackening his vision. 'Not again,' he thinks, 'why must this always happen to me?' He tenses, feeling the rough rock wall press against his back, a strap holding him firmly to the wall. His hands are pinched between his rear and the hostile wall as he leans forward, testing his bindings.
He can't gain much traction with his feet, impractical shoes combined with rough binding making things difficult. 'Ah, how did this happen?' He wonders in the back of his hazy mind, reeling through his last memories, a cinematic record of the living.
The steam of tea – Earl Gray, milk and honey – the feel of his comforter wrapped around his shoulders, the familiar scent of his pillow. Sebastian blowing out the candle as he stands by the door. Darkness. Darkness and the red tinted glow of Sebastian's eyes. One hell of a butler indeed. He better take responsibility for this mishap.
Something clicks in the boy, or young adult rather, as he recalls being rudely pulled out of sleep at a slight creek of his window. He remembers audibly cursing at Sebastian for leaving a window open in the middle of January. "Are you daft? Do you want me ill?" he had exclaimed groggily, sitting up with intent to silence the offending pane of glass. A deep, unfamiliar chuckle erupted in reply. Before Ciel could focus, a weight pressed down on his torso and the harsh, unfortunately familiar, smell of chloroform assaulted him, beating him into blackness.
And here he was, sitting against an unforgiving rock wall. The room is freezing and Ciel doubts that the walls, assuming that they're all the same, are very well insulated. As if being cold, restrained, and blinded weren't enough to make him feel right at home, the hospitable temperature was making the metal bindings on his wrists and feet that much more enjoyable, the cold metal burning as it rubs his skin raw.
Oh, when he got out of here, there would be hell to pay. Sebastian would be thoroughly punished for this.
He'd have to get out of here first though, which seems pretty impossible at the moment. The virtually endless string of profanities erupting in Ciel's mind would have had his parents rolling in their graves. Ciel sighs, knowing that however pleasurable yelling and cursing out his captors – his fate – would be, drawing attention from whoever put him in this predicament would definitely be unwanted. He had to take advantage of his time alone (he assumed he was alone, he hadn't heard anyone) to fiddle with his bindings and evaluate how to escape from them.
He starts with his wrists, feeling for the keyhole and allowing his fingers to press into the cold crevice, memorizing its shape. He pushes his elbows up, scraping them against the wall as he twists to reach into the waistband of his pants at his hip. Ciel pulls out a bobby-pin (When you live a life such as Ciel's you learn to keep strange things in strange places such as this.) and goes to work at picking the lock.
The click sounds through the room, ricocheting softly off the walls and Ciel pauses. He holds the cuffs in places, listening for any movements outside of his own. A minute passes and Ciel sets them quietly on the flood behind him, rubbing his wrists gingerly and exhaling a held breath.
He reaches up to remove the blindfold, the cloth proving to be a great irritant to Ciel. He feels no connection through his covenant for some reason, and having the contract covered brings more distress than it typically does. His arms are stopped a few mere centimeters away from his face, the restraint around his torso that pins him to the wall proving to be more of an issue than Ciel had anticipated.
He strains, digging his arms into the accursed strap and desperately clawing to reach the fabric over his eyes. He knows how close he is and it drives him mad knowing that he cannot cover the tiny distance between where his fingers stretch and the edge of the blindfold.
Against his better judgment, Ciel lets out a snarling "Fuck!" and slams his arms back down with an exasperated huff. And with that, all of Ciel's hopes of peacefully escaping a beating – and quite likely a sexual assault – quickly flew out the window.
If he could have pinched the bridge of his nose, he would have.
Ciel, being well aware that whatever cover he had had just up and vanished, figures that now was as good an opportunity as any to call for his moronic butler despite the hindering of his eye. He inhales as the door flies open, crashing into the wall with a sharp clang. Heavy footsteps thunder into the room.
"Sebast-!" A grimy hand suddenly covers Ciels mouth, smothering out his demand for rescue. Ciel bites into his assailant's flesh, his canines piercing the foul tasting skin. The man yowls, withdrawing his wounded appendage while pulling back his other to deliver a swift punch to Ciel's head.
"Son of a bitch!" The man snarls, shaking his hand. Ciel lifts his head back up, cracking his neck and sending an unseen glare at the intruder. During the small struggle, Ciel had moved his hands behind his back. He now prays that the motion wasn't noticed, that the man had paid no mind to Ciel's hands when he burst into the room. Praying, ha! Ciel knows that there is no 'God' for the likes of him. He had long since given up that right.
"What do you want?" Ciel questions, irritation glazing his tone with a thickness that gave the man the urge to strike Ciel again, to simply pound the insolence out of the little bastard.
There wasn't anything to stop him from doing so either, so he did.
Minutes pass and the pleasure of beating someone incapable of defending themselves fades. The man withdraws from the room, leaving bloodied footprints in his wake.
Ciel wheezes against the wall, arching his back into the sweet pain. He can feel his cursed blood soaking into the blindfold, weighing it down with the force of his sins.
Ciel's fingers reach up, tangling around the strap around his torso and feeling the length of it in search of the buckle. Finally finding it, Ciel fiddles and tugs at the unseen contraption until he frees himself, cursing at Sebastian all the while. 'How dare he not be here yet?'
"Sebastian..." He growls, flinging the strap away from his body in frustration. 'Where the hell is he?'
Ciel sighs, the action alone causing his lungs and ribs to ache. Stupid asthma, stupid cracked rib. The door slams back open just as Ciel reaches up to untie the back of that damned blindfold that's been causing him such a degree of grief.
Ciel curses yet again as a shout fills the room and the upbeat staccato pounding (then squishing, presumably from blood puddles,) of boots reaches him and snatches his hands. More boots, two or three more people from the sound of things, stumble into the room. Well, more people might be a good thing, having an audience typically deters any molestation. Unless it's gang rape. Scratch all previous statements about it being beneficial.
Ciel has to force himself not to actively engage in another fight with the group (A beating from one was bad enough, he would pass on three.) and stops struggling as they forcefully restrain him again. As the click of the cuffs sound again Ciel finally opens his mouth.
"Bloody hell, just tell me what you want from me," he rasps, rolling his eyes behind their cover. "At least remove the damned blindfold." He adds in irritation.
"How the fuck did you get out of this?" One of the men still standing growls, crouching down with an oozing hostility.
"Do you know how often this shit happens to me?" Ciel bites back, the third man in the room choking back laughter at the response. Phantomhive was proving to be much more entertaining than he had anticipated.
Who ever was re-cuffing him stands up after finishing the job, the crouched man making a swipe at Ciel's face at the unappreciated comment.
"How. Did you. Get out?" The man drags out as if he's talking to an idiot, his voice resonating angrily in the depths of his throat.
"When someone speaks, you should listen to them the first time so they don't have to repeat themselves, your mother would be ashamed." Ciel responds, the blindfold concealing the mischievous glint of his eyes. "Regardless, it would be beneficial to both parties if you tell me what you want." Ciel adds before his previous comment could earn him another bruise.
"What we want?" the crouched man repeats ominously, gripping Ciels neck with a large calloused hand, "What we want, Little Earl, is to repay you for your royal services under the Queen. Thoroughly. Your 'job' has virtually crushed my beautiful organization, so I'm going to crush you in return." The man's voice slithers out with all the sliminess of a snake, with the venom to boot.
"So, in short, the only thing you're after is the satisfaction of beating someone who can't defend themselves." Ciel summarizes, frowning.
"Oh, we're after anything we can get from you." The man corrects, a purely evil grin dominating his face, something that Ciel did not need to see to know was there. Ciel's frown deepens, he knows that there's nothing he could barter them with that would get him out of the worst of this, and his contact was being disrupted by something... perhaps by distance, Ciel hadn't the foggiest of where he was. Regardless of why, this issue may spell the end of Ciel. No, he can't allow himself to think in such a way! Sebastian would find him eventually. The state he would be found in though is a totally different story. Prospects are looking quite grim for poor Ciel.