Before starting I'd like to say thank you for reading this story. I hope you enjoy it. Some aspects may be confusing, but I assure you all will be resolved in the end. Nonetheless, if you have any questions, do ask.

IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: the number and phrase on top of paragraphs is the music for that specific section. If you can, please listen to the music (on repeat until you finish the corresponding paragraph) until you reach the next section. You can find most of these songs on youtube. If you have no access to youtube or have problems finding the song, don't worry! It's just meant to enhance the reading experience.

Thank you very much for your time.

~Vox

beauty & the beast

I: Bioshock OST: 07 Dancers on a String

Confined to the darkness clouding a human's realm, a demon's life is that of eternal damnation. Surrounded by an impurity and evil that competes even with the most vilifying aspects of their realm, demons are cannibalistic monstrosities who crave their brethren.

However, unlike their brethren, humans are such hopeless creatures. It's amazing, really, how a human can fall for a temptation, and how that miniscule temptation can birth a domino effect of misfortunes for him or her.

This isn't the time or place to discuss Alois and Claude's failures, however. The slate has been washed anew, and, as I have nothing else to do in my heavenly home, I shall simply watch the tragic comedy known as Ciel and Sebastian's lives.

Now, please take a seat. Our story starts in 19th century London, with a young boy who was kidnapped at the tender age of ten to become a prostitute.

The setting is a tiny, foul-smelling cage with a single mattress, chains attaching our lovely Ciel to the cage bars, a bucket in the corner for excrements, and a few apples on the ground for the next few days' nourishment. And in the center of t his cage, of course, is Ciel. A malnourished but still beautiful young boy with a cold demeanor. Tough, isn't it? Disgusting, even. Do not fret. He has the help of a certain Beast.

II: Pan's Labyrinth OST: 02 The Labyrinth

The chains tying Robin to his perch were rusty and made oh-so-much noise at even the slightest movement. So if I attempt to escape, the guards will be alerted. It was a simple fact he had easily acknowledged the first day he had been escorted to his new home. It still didn't stop him from trying, and he had an array of burn marks and whip scars to prove it.

"Robin!" a rough, scratchy voice with a thick Cockney accent interrupted the young boy's thoughts, "You got a customer! Sebastian, Mey-Rin! Get the brat ready!"

An ear-splitting crash and a stuttered apology caused the guard to mumble, "Forget you, Mey-Rin. Sebastian will take care of this shit."

Eyes the color of the Mediterranean Sea glanced towards the only doorway connecting the row of fly-mottled cells with the rest of the household. A tall, lithe man gracefully strode through the doorway and stopped at Cell Fourteen: otherwise known as Robin's Cell.

"Sebastian…" he mumbled, eyeing the household's well-dressed butler. Sebastian's hands were behind his back, and, quite honestly, the young boy was both curious and anxious as to what he was hiding.

"Please bear with it, Robin."

The dark haired butler slowly removed his arm from behind his back to reveal a beautiful dress the color of a midnight sky, peppered with unidentifiable crystalline gems.

Robin's eyes widened just a tad (after a while, one starts to get used to the oddities known as human fetishes).

"Mr. Runnmore has a fetish for little boys in dresses," Sebastian stated bluntly, his head bowed down as if apologizing for the cruelty his masters forced the thirteen-year-old boy to face daily.

"I realized that," Robin sighed. His face crumpled for just a moment (as it did whenever he had a customer), but as quickly as it appeared the expression was gone and his face was blank as a slate.

"Then, Robin, shall I dress you?"

"Yes, Sebastian," the boy whispered, and immediately the raggedy cloth he was wearing was unbuttoned and tossed to the corner of the tile-floored cell.

Though he would never admit it (too egotistical, that boy), Sebastian was probably the only man Robin trusted exposing himself to. After three years of being forced into trafficking, his trust in the male gender had been reduced to zero at a surprisingly fast rate.

"Robin, you are ready for the customer," Sebastian stepped back and bowed, eyeing the young child (not quite hungrily, his eyes did had a tinge of hunger in them but there was more sadness and pity to the burgundy orbs than there was hunger).

Robin glanced down at the midnight dress he was clad in, and his shoulders sunk.

"Sebastian! Hurry the fuck up in there! Mr. Runnmore's got a hand full of cash and we can't keep him waiting!" the guard called again.

"Sebastian, please, no…"

The sentence was weaved together in his mind quickly and only when the phrase left his lips (barely) he noticed how weak and little it made him sound.

"We may talk after your customer is satisfied," Sebastian said lightly.

Heavy steps echoed throughout the corridor of cells. Robin's customer was approaching.

Even through a curtain of ebony velvet hair Robin could spot the stout man hobbling over to his cage awkwardly, sweating profusely.

Robin glanced over towards where Sebastian would have been, but, to the young boy's dismay, the butler had already disappeared (as he often did). When he turned back, the face of a portly pig examining every inch of his porcelain skin greeted him.

Disgusting…

"Ah, hello, yes, Robin?" Mr. Runnmore asked, kissing the young boy's hand with sweaty, full lips.

"Yes, pig?" Robin growled.

"Play nice, brat!" the guard barked, slamming a hand against the cage's door.

Robin was mildly startled, 'mildly' being the key word.

"He can't play with me if I'm dead," Robin glared.

With a sneer and a spit towards the boy's large, doll-like eyes, the guard asked, "Mr. Runnmore, sir, would you like me to punish your toy before you play with him?"

"No, please do not worry. I shall punish this little bird sufficiently enough tonight," the man said with a wink. The guard nodded and unlocked the chains connecting the "little bird" to his perch.

"Then, shall we go?"

The black-haired boy, with great reluctance, offered his hand to the portly man. Mr. Runnmore pulled him up and escorted him to a rather roomy carriage waiting outside the Mannchester Household.

III: Snowtime by Samm Neiland

I'm just a child…

Robin woke up on a spacious cream-colored bed, and, after examining the mostly Mahogany room, he recognized it as one of the Mannchester's.

Mr. Runnmore must have returned me late last night.

The pain (physical and mental) was unbearable.

I'm still a child…

No matter how many times he repeated the ghastly (damned) phrase in his mind, to these filthy rich business men Ciel Phantomhive, now simply known as Robin, was an item. An object to be touched and kissed and fucked.

Just a toy…

Deep blue tears welled up in Ciel's deep blue eyes, threatening to spill over.

I won't cry. I can't cry. I can't show weakness.

The three phrases just seemed to catalyze the sobbing process, and before he knew it, he was crumpled up like a broken doll in a plush blanket.

A pair of Mahogany doors opened, revealing a tall, lithe man who gracefully strode through the depressing room.

"Sebastian!" Ciel gasped, surprised (for once) that someone had decided to retrieve him. He was never retrieved so early in the morning.

"Rob-Ciel…" he sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed.

A silence filled the room with pathos.

"You're crying," Sebastian stated, hoping Ciel would elaborate on his obvious statement.

"No I'm not," the boy rumbled, burying deeper into the safety of the bed.

"Please don't lie, Ciel. It is quite obvious that you're crying, I just wish to know why. You're used to these disgusting businessmen, are you not?" he asked, quirking a dark eyebrow.

"How could I ever get used to these creatures?" Ciel suddenly roared, a string of bottled up emotions finally snapping within him. "How could I ever get used to the feeling of simply being a toy, a doll, some source of entertainment? How could I ever get used to this hatred, this fury, this jealousy for the normal!"

Ciel's voice wavered and his breaking point was finally revealed.

Sebastian, watching the boy sob, felt afraid.

There was an amalgamation of wrath for those who hurt Ciel and a wish to protect Ciel from further harm.

The demon was afraid the emotion bubbling up in his darkened soul was something solely human, and dismissed it as he briskly walked out of the room and the source of these feelings.

IV:

My, my, I rather like the beginning of this tale. You know, I've been thinking of a title for this tale while I was watching it unfold.

I shall call this story Beauty and the Beast.

Thanks again for reading! This was just a prologue of sorts, the next chapters should (hopefully) be longer. Also, I was feeling quite nauseous while writing this but wanted to get this idea out, so apologies if it didn't meet your expectations. Ta-ta!