It is not just the pain that Ciel had ordered Sebastian to etch into his soul as his inochi no akashi - the proof that he has lived - that coils itself deep into the heart of his soul.

The click-clack his butler's shoes as he walks away for the Angel of Massacre, towards Ciel.

The ragged edge and dripping, sluicing blood falling out of the space where Sebastian's arm used to be.

The rush of the river as it envelops him.

The soft petals of the flower ring.

The crow's beady eyes.

Sebastian's black tipped fingers on his cheek.

Sliding under the patch to slip it free.

His butler's voice sliding smooth into his ears for the final time.

And he feels the tug in his right eye, his chest, his hands, his ankles, his belly, his groin, and the stinging burn of Sebastian Michaelis' fingers splayed across his face. A rich and heady, potent feeling of satisfaction, so much deeper, yet echoing the curling anticipation that had been building slowly, inexorably from the day their contract was sealed.

The day Sebastian Michaelis, crow demon, seared his mark into Ciel Phantomhive's right eye, and with that into his mind, his heart, his soul. All the places inside him that couldn't be seen by the naked human eye. A mark far more powerful than the crude cattle brand of the Angel of Massacre.

Ciel's last thought before he is consumed is 'Will you carry me inside you, just as I have? Will you feel me spread within you? Hear, feel, see, taste, smell the phantoms of me even as I am devoured?'


Sebastian watches as the crow alights on his - … his Ciel's mortal shell and starts to peck at his eyes.

The corpse that he had watched over, come to know so intimately, cooled slowly in the pre-dawn light. "I will savour you, Ciel. Every last fleeting drop of sensation until you have long since past from the minds of mortal men." He whispers this promise into the pale blue light of the yet-to-rise sun as he lets loose the bonds holding together the construct of a mortal form he has worn for endless years.

To stand as all that he~she~it~they is~are; to luxuriate in the feeling of being unfettered at long last; to drown in the pleasure of it; it is indescribable. Different from the bloodlust that had filled him with his final orders from Ciel - the battle fervor of finally being able to, allowed to, let loose completely against an opponent strong enough to take it, but just as intoxicating.

Holding the feeling of Ciel's soul nestled inside the centre of the slithering, shifting morass of black of his being. Sebastian looks at the sprawled form of Ciel Phantomhive, Earl Phantomhive, President of Funtom Company, the Queen's Guard Dog and dissipates into a lingering mist that clings to the island for days after. Clings until Ciel's physical form rots and returns to the Earth, until it gives rise to rumours on the banks of dark things and evil deeds.


A/N: This is the first fic I've posted in awhile, it was actually first drafted several months back, but I didn't get to editing it until today. I wrote this just after watching the final episode of season one, before I realised that season two retconned that whole thing. Eh, I still like the introspective.