Redemption

Bells of sadness rang from the gothic church, the sky around it bleak and sorrowful. Within it cries and pain-filled sobs echoed as the atmosphere within seemed to be weighted down by a thick sadness. A sad music played in the background, repeating itself over in an attempt to console those who mourned for their large double doors of the entrance slowly opened, a woman dressed in black stepping through them with heavy steps. Her head hung low while her hands went up to her chest covered in black lace, pressing a white rose between her aching heart and her quivering fingers. Crystal tears slid down her cheeks, splashing quietly on the pale petals of the flower as she walked slowly toward the casket in the distance while her long dress swayed delicately with each step.

Once her feet stopped next to the casket, she collapsed onto her knees, at the same time feeling that her heart would fall from her chest as well. Her tears stained the black veil that covered her face, forcing her to pull it off. Her brown eyes appeared red from all the tears and her red hair shielded the others from seeing the pain reflected upon it. Her hand slowly reached inside the casket to the chest of the man who had died. She placed the pale rose upon his no longer beating heart, and held it there, trying to find any remaining warmth in his still body.

Whispers from behind her reached her ears, yet she did not turn to acknowledge the people sitting within the church. "How dare she come to the funeral?" one female said to another, "They say she was the one who killed him." another murmured scornfully. The whispers continued, some defensive and others condemning her. Despite the pain they were inflicting upon her honor, she ignored every one of them, her attention fully on her dead love.

After the burial was finished everyone seemed to vanish, leaving her standing alone before the tomb stone. Just as her tears hit the grass beneath her feet, rain poured down from the sky as if the clouds were crying with her. Hours passed and the sky's greys were covered with a black curtain, leaving her in darkness. "Lady Meylin…" A hoarse voice called from behind her, she did not turn around.

"Yes." she responded softly.

"It is time to go my lady, they are closing the cemetery." He told her, bowing apologetically to her. The man was in his forties yet his hair was white as snow and his beard accentuated his age. Without a word she turned around and nodded, walking slowly behind her driver.

Once they reached the mansion she was approached by the only maid that worked for her. The older woman wrapped a towel around her. "My lady… dinner is served for you." she said with a motherly tone of voice. Meylin slowly stepped forward and began to walk toward the stairs, looking around the lobby to look at the white walls, framed with sculptured wood and decorated with paintings. She eyed the living room to her right; the fireplace was shimmering softly with a dying flame, the red seats were empty. She turned to her left, looking at the numerous books lining the shelves in the far wall. It was all so empty now. "I do not wish to eat, or bathe, or see anyone…please let me grief." She told her servants while going up the stairs slowly. The servants did not protest or attempt to feed her and instead bowed in respect before going to their duties.

Her room was dark and full of shadows but the desire to see light was gone, she did not light a candle or oil lamp. She shut the door behind her and walked to the center of the room. Her maroon eyes scanned her surroundings; the bed was empty and perfectly made as the canopy above it swayed with the light breeze of the night. "I feel empty…just like this room." She whispered to herself. Her head slowly turned to see her reflection in a mirror in the far corner. The widow walked toward it, her damp dress dragging upon the carpeted floor. She stood there for a few minutes, watching herself crumble into a broken shell.

"What am I going to do now?" her voice was heavy, hopeless.

"You left me with all this… yet I feel like I have nothing." She saw her mouth move in the reflection, yet she could not hear her own voice. New tears began to form, and her eyes grew angry. She used to be a professional killer, a merciless assassin and yet she did not know how to pick up the pieces of her crumbling life. She used to work for one of the most powerful men in England, yet she did not know who she was anymore.

Everything was still fresh in her memories, as if it had happened the day before. Ciel Phantomhive had grown and married and the day of the wedding she had met Frederick. He was a young noble who did business with the Earl, transporting the goods of the company from one country to the other. The gentleman had gained interest in her clumsy antics, silly smiles and childish personality. He continually visited the mansion, sometimes with poor excuses that even the Earl himself could not believe. He continuously asked for her to bring him tea, at times even excusing himself merely to follow her and talk to her. Little by little the man broke through her hard shell and earned her heart.

"I was the happiest woman on earth when we married." She whispered to her reflection, her eyes trailing down to the diamond ring circling her finger. "But it lasted so little." She felt her heart beat change from pain to anger again.

"Who did this to you Frederick?" she murmured as her eyes once more were cast over her reflection. It all built up so fast. She grabbed the nearest object, and threw it at the mirror. It was the most wonderful sound she had heard that day, the sound of her being breaking into pieces before her own eyes. Meylin fell to her knees, her heart twisting and raging with anger. "I will kill them! I will hunt them like animals!" she yelled at the broken mirror. She knew her servants could hear her screams, but they knew better not to disturb her. Now she knew why her former lord wished to destroy those who had hurt him so. She experienced that same desperation and rage. She could almost touch it, the same desire to eliminate those who had broken his soul.

"You look so much more beautiful now."

Meylin's head shot up from staring at the broken glass, her eyes quickly scanning the darkness for the owner of that voice. She did not have a weapon, but she would use whatever she could get her hands on to hurt whoever was taunting her. "Who are you!" she snapped, pushing herself off the floor.

"My… it has only been a few years and yet you have forgotten me so easily." The voice sounded familiar, yet her brain was so clouded with emotions that she could not pinpoint it.

"Show yourself!" She hissed, grabbing one of her dead husband's decorative canes that had been leaning against the dresser next to her and held it high with both hands.

The candles suddenly lit up but Meylin did not flinch as the light began to steadily concentrate on the source of the voice. A raven stood on top of the only chair next to the door, causing the woman to narrow her eyes. "You have summoned me."

"I did not call for you." She responded in defiance. "I do not know who you are, but I wish to be left alone."

"Oh but you did call for me, Meylin." the raven eyed her, its eyes shimmering red.
"Your heart, the anger and hatred within it brought me here. I am here to help you find those who have broken you."

Meylin slowly lowered the cane, her eyes straying from the black feathered bird. She did not know how he knew her name, but she did not dare ask the question. There were a few seconds of silence, as tears rolled down her face once more. "Help me then, please." She whispered hoarsely.

"You accept this contract?" the animal shimmered with a dark purple hue. "If so…your soul will belong to me once your ultimate wish is granted." He forewarned, tilting its head up with pride.

Meylin considered it for a split second, but the image of her dead darling immediately helped her make the choice. They had taken what she most loved from her and along with him, they also took her will to live. Then if she were to die, may it be while destroying those who robbed them of their happiness.

"I accept…"

"Very well…"

A bright light shone from her chest, as a pentagram materialized upon her pale skin. She looked at herself for a moment, her face void of surprise and only filled with grief. She heard the sound of fluttering wings, but her tearful eyes continued to be lost in nothingness. Too much had happened for her to process; her heart felt like a slot machine, flickering from anger to sadness at random. White crossed her line of vision as a gloved hand rested itself on her shoulder. Her eyes trailed up slowly, her heart wrenching painfully when her eyes set themselves on the handsome face of a butler.

"Sebastian?" She whispered breathlessly, unbelieving of who she was seeing before her.

He nodded his head. "Yes…my lady."

Her being suddenly felt a deep sense of comfort, as if the presence of this old friend were enough to wash away her problems. Meylin held back a sob, her chest heaving before she threw herself at him. She buried her face against his chest, desperately seeking refuge without caring whether or not she would be pushed away. The widow felt his strong arms wrapping around her and comforting her while she sobbed uncontrollably. Minutes passed and as if something had drained what remained of her energy, she steadily went limp and silent.

"Rest…My lady." Sebastian whispered, his crimson eyes glowing in the darkness of the room.

End Chapter 1