SLEEP CHILD, IT'S ONLY DARKNESS

HIS BUTLER, A DANCER

CHAPTER ONE OF "Sleep Child, It's Only Darkness"

A murky cerulean midnight painted the graceful skies with a hue close to obsidian. Moonlit shadows passed on the lonely streets that settled outside the gates of the earl's mansion. A starless obscurity threatened the fragile resistance of the young teenager's mind. Sky barren of all of it's treasures, except for the looming moon that bleakly glistened in the dark horizons. Timorous as his mind was, he'd never admit to the fact that the seemingly eternal darkness petrified his young mind, and once his mind enveloped itself into that neurotic stage, it was hard for him to crawl back out from it. So many mysteries lingered within his sanctity, and only within time would he figure this out.

And yet his blankets would insist on devouring his being, cradling him to comfort, and then strangling him to tears. Persistent as they were, he would never be able to succumb to them. Petulant pillows peevishly punished the youthful master, hardening hastily under his hindered helpless head. Creeping candles carefully chilled the room, blowing blissfully blunt until little light filled the room, almost desolate, though a dim glow from the outdoors lightly tinted the quiet room.

Staring, distance in his eyes as he glared at the corner of his room, as tears began to glide quickly down his face. The ever-lasting darkness spooked his soul, sending shivers down his spine, and the tendrils of light blue hair on his arm stood at end, poking out as if it were a porcupine, trying to protect itself. As he buried his pale face into the softness of the nightshirt that he was wearing, his knees rested against his head as he cradled himself as close as he could to his own being, trying to hide himself from the darkness, as if this position would fend off the sneaky depths.

And the hand that was heavily disfigured scorched with the pain that was caused by the able blade of the Trancy swords that had sweltered deeply into his flesh. The stench of coppery liquids was so prevalent to him now, as if it lingered with him for eternity, and it never went away. The Phantomhive earl had never thought twice before placing the mouth of a pistol to a person's head, nor never to a second thought when it came to plunging a blade into the flesh of another person. Yet this incident felt foreign, it made his stomach twist and churn like a ravage ocean, trying to beat him down and drown himself into the deeper feelings that his mind was beginning to process. And tonight was the first time that he had felt guilt.

Sunny, exuberant, that was a pleasant way to describe the day. The smell of coppery blood tinged the air like it was replacing the oxygen itself. It was a dual, a butler against a butler, to see who's mansion was the "fairest of them all", or so the young blonde Trancy had thought it was going to be.

Claude Faustus was the butler for the earl of the Trancy manor, Alois, he was a demon, as was Ciel's butler. Sebastian Michaelis was the butler for the earl of the Phantomhive manor, Ciel. They had agreed on a set dual, to see who the winner was. The bet was that whoever's butler won, the earl of that butler would be able to have the other earl perform a privilege for the other. And the deal was set.

Though, that deal would never truly happen. As the fight continued on, the Phantomhive boy had another thing in his mind. He was thirsty for revenge. Revenge for the fact that he believed it was Alois Trancy who had killed his parents, and brought shame to his name, and for that he would make the youthful blonde atone for his "sin" with his own life.

"Pardon me, but may you please give me a tour of your mansion? I'm rather bored." What a pathetic excuse that was, he wasn't particularly bored even, this was just a way to see if the younger earl would allow him into his manor. There was where he'd kill him, so that he could seek out his vengeance for his lost pride, there was where he would show all of England how pathetic the heir of the Trancy throne was, by slaying him in his own "palace".

"Why yes! Of course, you need to use the john as well?" The fair-haired juvenile obviously thought that the cyan-haired master had to use the bathroom. How queer.

Though, when they entered the large building, the icy-eyed Trancy never took his eyes away from the older boy more merely more than two to three seconds, despite the always peppy aspect that lingered in his tone, Ciel was recognizing the fact that the heir to this mansion was getting suspicious of his actions and manners. No matter, he'd still accomplish what he had come there for.

"Trancy." His voice was firm, tight around the edges, allowing the golden-haired fellow to recognize the seriousness in his voice.

"How rude of you, you can just call me Alois, no need for the disrespectful last-name calling!" A teasing tone lingered in the sharp, honey-like voice that sprung with a merry attitude every time it chimed.

"I would like to challenge you to a dual." It was said as if it were something casual, it wasn't a question either, it was a flat-out statement. It was going to happen; he'd make sure of it.

"Oh, so I suppose this is the true reason why you wanted to step foot in my manor…so you didn't have to use the john after all… a dual, why, I'd love to…I've never had the chance to dual before…it sounds like fun…but…I don't know how to dual, please explain?" There was a slightly confused aspect tainting the words that were spoken, his voice raising near the end as if he were nervous. Though a cocky smirk that was so familiar was glued firmly to his mouth, it was a Cheshire grin, annoying and insulting towards the already peeved Phantomhive heir.

"Oh, is that so?" This was going to be easier than he thought that it was going to be, "Well, first, we stand back to back, and then were each take ten steps outwards, we both say the numbers together until we reach ten, so that were know that we both have equal time and there can be a fair win, at ten we turn around and the dual begins, and I'd take it that you know when it ends, correct?"

A swift nod followed after the question was asked, as if he were expecting the blue-haired boy to ask him that question.

"Seems fair, may the best person win."

Swords were placed into the adolescents' hands. Blood would be shed that evening, staining the surrounding areas a dark hue of crimson and burgundy. A soul would also be shed that evening, collected by that of a hungry demon, taken by a reaper, or shredded to millions of pieces.

Turning around to greet each other's backs with their own, they were pressed firmly together, as if they were trying to huddle for warmth, though, it ended when they both sensed each other's need to move, and they took their first step.

"One…"

Though there was doubt growing in Ciel's mind, wondering what was happening, wondering why he was starting to wonder if he should work on his anger like this.

"Two…"

As another step was taken, he began to wonder if the icy-eyed male truly deserved the fate that he wished upon him so eagerly.

"Three…"

And they escalated to their third, and he wondered about how much other's cared about the golden-haired boy, wondering about if he had family, if he had anyone that loved him dearly, wondering how they would feel. The rest of the numbers seemed to burn away until they got to number seven.

"Eight."

And then the thought came to mind that urged him to proceed. The fact that he thought that Alois wouldn't care, because he thought that he had killed his parents, because he had no sympathy for them and had no reluctance to kill them, so he thought.

With a hasty swing, the navy-blue-mane male swung around, striking at the other with a fierce swing of the monochrome blade. Though was surprised when it was met by the blade of the opponent, soul-devouring eyes staring straight into his own.

"Ah nah ah, no cheating, I don't like cheaters." It was said in a childish fashion, though it was firm. Upper lip twitching is frustration, the teen growled lowly in the back of his throat before turning his back to the other male again, and they continued to their climax to the number ten.

"Ten." There was no trail after that number.

Speedily facing each other, metal clashed against metal, and an eerie screechy sound was the result of the encounter. And faster than he could even blink, the younger blonde had darted up the stairwell, speeding across the upper area of the mansion.

With a determined hiss, the earl of the Phantomhive manor dashed up the dusky ivy stairs, the staircase feeling like a mountain, that didn't want to allow him to go any further. However, he broke that resistance with a quick shift and a slight turn and leaped up the next two stairs and now stood where Alois had once stood. Eyes darting back and forth, trying to figure out where the other had disappeared, he had been there just a few seconds ago.

A dark magenta trench coat caught the blue eyes of the Phantomhive teen, and he instantly began his sprint over towards that area, which was near a well placed set of bookshelves, most likely made out of the finest mahogany. This was a tinge bit harder than he had expected, not calculating how swift his opponent was going to be, especially in his high-knee stilettos with mulberry laces.

With another nimble strike, blades went clashing once more, creating a demonic tune in their own sorrow. The blades, sorrowful for the life that they reaped from a body each time a soul was drained from a person's being.

Tedious tiny hand grappled the olive green six-buttoned double-breasted tailcoat that was buttoned tightly to the Phantomhive child, knocking the weapon out from the grip of his hand and allowing it to cascade to the ground, and find a resting place with a settled chime. Holding the dusty-blue haired male over the edge by his hands, the ice-eyed blonde snickered softly before whispered huskily into his captive's ear,

"Oops, look, how silly of you…"

With a sly swipe of the feet and a persistent push, pressure forced the earl of the Phantomhive manor to descend from the top height of the large building, falling off the "balcony". Snatching the air around him in tight fists as if it were to help him in any way, shape, or form, fright lingered in the back of his mind, slowly eating away ate his patience. This fear was snapping the last of the chords in his mind that told him not to kill the younger male. Fear, anger, rage, agony, and doubt flooded through the mind of the earl before he could feel the pain that began to linger in his lower back, slowly climbing like ivy up this spine.

And yet, a seemingly long amount of darkness washed over him, because when he opened his eyes to glance around, the heat of another body had washed over him, and breath-taking eyes stared at him, like an owl swooping in for the kill.

"And now…I have you." There was a grim, hushed smirk that tainted the Trancy's lips as the blade was lifted, and jerked down over top of the Phantomhive child.

Though, without his own will, his hand shot out, and grabbed the lengthy blade in his hand, already feeling the sharp metal begin to sink into his soft, babyish skin. The thin blade sunk to the bone of his hand.

"No, it seems…that I've…got you!" hissed the bluenette between his teeth, the dual sword plunging into his opponent's side. As the sharp-edged metal sunk deeper into the insides of the blonde "devil" above him, and he could feel the thick, crimson syrup splatter onto his face, the foreign substance of the younger male painting his face. Nimbly, he slipped out from under the blonde, hatred gleaming in the usually calm oceans of his eyes.

Pointing the sharp edge at the fair-haired male, a deep, almost growl, bellowed from the young thirteen year old earl,

"You have disgraced the name of the Phantomhive family, you have tainted the title, and tainted my royalty, and you shall repent for that, by replacing it with your life."

"Please!" A minuscule shriek strained from the pained Trancy title-bearer, icy eyes focused on the face of the bluenette that was towering above him, "Here me out, Ciel Phantomhive…I was not the person who slain your family…please…my parents were killed when I was just a young boy…when my village was wiped out…my brother was killed…please…spare me!"

"Why should I believe that? You lowly whore…" The snarl was deep in the back of his throat. When the sapphires of his eyes met the cerulean of the blonde, there was something that lingered in the back of his eyes at the insult, though the Trancy earl had never commented on it, and his eyes darted away into the corner.

"You just don't reply because you know it's true, you filthy hooker." It was a bit of a kick that he got out of it, seeing the agony in the younger male's eyes.

"And now, you shall d-"

"Why young master, I just cannot allow that at the moment, maybe another time though." And with that, the bluenette was lifted from the bloody array that had become of the Trancy manor.

"Sebastian! Let me go at once! I wish to finish my dance with revenge!" The snarl was demanding, full blue eyes filled with annoyance, seemingly searing into flames.

"Oh, but my lord! We are dancing a fine dance, dancing our way into a star-lit night! We wouldn't want you to be late for dinner, now would we?" Hand flailing, thick crimson liquor sprayed from the pure-haired youths, spraying who knows where.

Looking around once more to glance at his opponent, an irritated frown glued to his lips, though he could see the young earl splayed on the floor of his mansion, withering, crippled beneath his own butler.

"I do not feel sympathy for him, I killed him, he soiled my name, and I have accomplished my vengeance, he…deserves it…I wanted him to die." And the words slipped from his lips like honey, though this honey was tart, as if he were trying to believe in what he was saying, but that was not an option, because for some reason, his heart ached, and he knew that deep down inside, he actually could feel his regret bellowing in the underneath of his hatred.