Here it is, my first story published on this site. I've recently delved back into Kuroshitsuji, specifically the second season, so I thought I'd try my hand at writing something for the series. This story is slightly AU, as I've altered the events of the season's final episode. While I thought the ending of Sebastian being forced to yield to eternal servitude to Ciel was poetic justice, it doesn't work for the purposes of this narrative. The reason isn't completely clear in the beginning; that is something that will make itself known in subsequent chapters.

I've only managed to watch the anime, so I have little knowledge of the manga beyond the first volume. Please forgive me. Enjoy the prologue.

P.S.: Excuse my lame attempt at adding nursery rhymes. I suck, I know. Also, this takes place around ten years after Kuroshitsuji II.

-Yume-Onata -

[ - 00 – Bound Butler - ]

The itsy, bitsy spider climbed up the water spout…

The wound inflicted upon her side throbbed, the blood seeping from the deep, jagged cut staining her powder-blue gown. She stared at its descent with half-lidded hazel eyes, the sticky red substance trickling to the cold cellar floor below her dangling feet. She appeared every bit the sacrificial lamb, both her arms suspended horizontally from her trembling body by rattling chains. Her wrists were rubbed raw by the harsh metal, the clamps biting into her flesh even as she ceased struggling. She wanted nothing more than for sleep to claim her, for the musty odor of her prison to fade away into darkness. Every breath she drew pained her, each moment she remained conscious reminding her of her impending fate.

If God was truly as benevolent as she was told, death would take her first.

…Down came the rain and washed the spider out…

"What is this soul that has called out to me?"

The young woman peered into the shadows, pupils working to adjust to the poor lighting. She groaned faintly, the sound of her voice akin to the sigh of a mortal taking its dying breath. The shroud of emptiness that pervaded her senses took hold of her, the sensation of fingers grasping at her skin enveloping her. The moldy cellar seemingly melted away, the bindings around her wrists replaced with the sticky silk of a spider's web. The scream of horror died in her throat, her mouth agape as she tilted her head. There, upon the crook of her shoulder, was the countenance of a spider, pronged fangs snapping in time to the blinking of her wide eyes.

…Out came the sun and dried up all the rain…

"What a clumsy cut…" She drew back as the arachnid scampered upon his perch, one spindly arm caressing her abdomen. The limb twitched as it smoothed across the gathering of blood. "This wound… You are dying."

She would have laughed, were the situation not so disconcerting.

"I didn't… I didn't call you," she answered, her cockney speech in sharp contrast to the smooth, proper voice which spoke to her in turn.

"You are mistaken, girl. Your soul knows what your mind does not. You wish to live."

"My soul…?"

"Yes," the spider replied, the web dimpling as it crawled about her. "It longs for vengeance against the individual that has enacted this poor display of violence against you." The creature doubled back, its abdomen sliding across her chest as it slinked over her body. She felt the fine hairs on its form, a wave of nausea pouring over her at the spider's touch. "You do not have much time, I am afraid. What will it be? Will you sate your thirst for death by turning to a demon?"

Of course, she thought. Only a demon would come to her in her time of need.

"If you know me so well, Mr. Spider… then you know my answer."

She watched, mystified as the arachnid began to alter its shape upon her comment. She could make out a pale face in the swirl of smoke and shadows, the distinct color of gold gazing back at her through the heady atmosphere.

"Speak the words that will bind us. Promise your soul to me."

As she glanced down, the seal of their contract began to manifest upon the injury in her side, the bright circle of light mending her torn and puckered flesh. The pain instantly began to vanish, any trace of doubt and fear dissolving into the gathering of mist at her back. She spoke their contract aloud, her words ensuring her damnation.

"What name will you give me, Mistress?"

A name? Bestow a demon with a name?

"What did your previous master call you?"

The creature hesitated, the shapeless face warping as its lips twisted into a sneer. "Claude Faustus."

"Then that's the name I'll give you," she said with a wry smile. "…Claude Faustus."

…And the itsy, bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.