Note- This is a bizarre thing that I wrote in one sitting. It crosses over the manga's Murder Mystery arc and Kuroshitsuji II... If that makes any sense. I don't think it does- this doesn't even make much sense to me, to be completely honest. Claude and Alois are at the Phantomhive Manor the evening those murders take place, so just picture that if you will. Review if you like it, review if you don't.
I (clearly) do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters mentioned.
Claude rose to his feet and drew the curtains in, closing off the manor to the rest of the world- not that there was anything around for several miles, save for the surrounding forest and wildlife. He gently lifted the gas lamp from the table and carried it out of the room and down the hall. Pushing open the door to his master's bedchamber, he stepped in quietly and sat the lamp down on the side table next to the bed. Alois was sitting up, the blankets bunched around him like he'd been squirming to find a comfortable position. "Claude, there you are," he sighed, his face looking eerie and drawn in the orange light. "What the hell took you so long?"
"I apologize, your Highness," Claude replied in monotone. "I was writing a call for help in the study and thought it would be a good idea to send a pigeon out when the rain stops. Perhaps the authorities will find it and-"
He stopped abruptly as a ringed hand struck him violently across the face. "Did I tell you to write to the police?" Alois nearly yelled. "No, I didn't! So stop doing things I don't tell you to do!"
Claude was silent for a moment, staring at his master with an unreadable look on his face. Eventually he bowed, hand over his heart, and replied, "Please excuse me for my grave discourtesy, Your Highness."
"Rise," Alois commanded suddenly. Claude looked up at him and did as told. "That must hurt," the boy continued, his voice taking a very different tone than that of mere moments ago. He stood on the bed, meeting his butler at eye level, and brushed his ringed thumb gently over the wound. There were three cuts across Claude's cheek, each deep and bright red. "You love me, don't you?"
Claude's face showed indifference. "I want to greedily devour you to the very end, Your Highness."
Alois withdrew his hand and smirked, seeming satisfied with Claude's answer for once. "Well then, tuck me in and be out of my sight," he muttered, scooted back to his pillow and laid down. Claude said nothing, but tucked his master in once again and went to get the gas lamp after. As he leaned down to snuff out the light, Alois' voice came back to him again. "Claude," he began, his voice quiet. "Get someone to tend your wound, all right?"
Claude paused for a moment, his back to the bed and the master in it. "Yes, your Highness."
He walked to the door and blew out the flame in the lamp with a kiss of breath. As he closed the door behind him, he heard a quiet but very definite, "Well, good night to you too, bitch."
That awful child. That stupid brat! He demands too much of me, always trying to get a reaction for his foolish antics. Well, he'll never get one, I'll make sure of that, Claude thought bitterly, taking the stairs down to the ground floor. Not to mention, he commands me to get those wounds treated. Me, as a demon. The very thought.
Light spilled from beneath the door to the billiard room. The next room down was one of the first-level washrooms. Claude glanced around to make sure nobody was watching- it wasn't the servants' room, after all- before he entered and closed the door quickly behind him. The only light was that provided by the full moon through a window, but it was enough. He turned to his reflection, his face and features turned grey by the light of the moon. Three dark stripes on one side of his face stared back at him, oozing blood. His tongue slipped out one corner of his mouth and licked at it, but quickly darted back in.
His own blood didn't taste the way Earl Phantomhive's did. Ahh, yes, the earl's tasted like glory and purity, untouched by the darkness despite being surrounded by it- everything he craved in a soul, everything his own master lacked. Claude stood for a moment, relishing and reliving that fleeting taste, and shivered just thinking about it. A moment later, he ran water over a cloth and held it to his face, washing away the blood. He felt ridiculous, really, but an order was an order- even if he was a four thousand year old, near immortal demon that could heal from most injuries in a matter of minutes.
After the wound was clean, Claude exited the washroom and started for the billiard room where many of the other guests were chatting, but then something caught his attention. A scent, a very delicious scent, yes. He stood there, glued to the spot, mouth watering, eyes flashing. He was starving, and the fact had never been clearer than in that moment. His eyes followed the Earl Phantomhive as the boy gracefully passed him, that damned Sebastian at his side.
Claude had decided: he couldn't take it any longer. He hungered for the earl, he longed for him, but nothing could be done so long as Phantomhive's demon was nearby. Claude felt an emotion build inside him- that was a very rare thing to happen in a demon, even one that had been alive for as long as he. Yes, he believed it was called rage, and he felt it when Sebastian looked over his shoulder and smiled mockingly at him.
It was a good thing he had never sent out the messenger pigeon, Claude mused.
Tonight, he was going to disobey his master's orders.
Tonight, Sebastian Michaelis would die, and then he would drink in Ciel Phantomhive's soul in a manner most ravenous.