~~~Hello! I don't want to get in the way much during my story here, but I felt that this was an important thing to say before we get too far along.
First off, I do not or nor will I ever own any rights to Kuroshitsuji!
Also, this story is meant to be an exploration of the human that Sebastian once was and what lead up to his turn into Demonhood. Because of this, there is the warning that this story may be OOC at times to fit in his human side and has OCs as well for the same reason. With a fair warning as well, I politely have ignored some conspiracies of Sebastian's true age. I liked the historical time period I've chosen, and we will see more better by next chapter where he's from and all that juicy stuff. Thank you for bearing with me! I promise I'm done now! ~~
"Otou-sama!"
His voice resonated in the dark bedroom, calling out from the depths of Sebastian's restless dreams. The haunting high-pitched voice that called out for help in a desperate, fearful tone awoke the demon from his sleep in a cold sweat. Raising a hand to his face, Sebastian covered his eyes, attempting to hide himself from the garish scene. There was a reason demons didn't sleep: dreams come only as nightmares, more hellish than the inner realms of Hell itself.
Even with his face graced in the darkness of his bedroom in the Phantomhive household, Sebastian could still see the burning reminisce of his nightmare. There was blood gathered in dark inky pools on the wooden floor and in silken ribbons on the walls. Lifeless forms were strewn across the floor, seemingly tossed aside like unimportant ragdolls. A portrait lay broken on the ground, ash obscuring the faces of the slender forms.
But the last horrific seconds of this nightmare kept a stronghold on the darkness of Sebastian's eyelids and on the darkness of his mind. Sitting in the chaos of the up-turned and bloodied room was a boy child looking up with terrified cerulean eyes. This child was dirty and scared, crying for help, and staring up at Sebastian with a commanding gaze. Sebastian lunged forward, trying to close the gap between himself and this child.
The large oak door behind Sebastian closed with a thud.
Encompassed by the darkness, the child's voice rang out: "Otou-sama!"
This lasting imprint was haunting, or would have been if Sebastian were still able to comprehend the complexities of human grieving. Being human is an inconvenience I am no longer cursed with, he thought apathetically to himself. But even in that simple thought, somewhere stretching from another plane was the defiant whisper that this demon butler was wrong and he knew it. There was something worthwhile in a human life and in human struggle. But, then again, who would want to remember their own turbulent tumble from human despair to demonic indifference?
Sebastian Michaelis cared not for the stories of the past, or who he may have been before his presently perfected and irresistibly evil state. But the residual energy that called itself Kenjiro Nakano would make itself known to Sebastian's emptied soul. Kenjiro Nakano will make the demon remember the days before his hellish reign: of promises kept and promises broken.