Prologue

"Are you awake?"

She refrained from answering, forcing her breathing to a shallow, inaudible pitch as she listened closely. There were two voices. Reverberating through the ill spaced walls of the dungeon. The drug should have left her system by now, but she could still feel its venom creeping through her veins. She was abducted mere hours ago, and the last thing she remembered was being ambushed by a group of spell casters, her family killed. In this moment, pretending to be bound by shackles of deep slumber, her conscience screamed at her to run. To beat the living shit out of her captors and escape. But, another part told her to keep perfectly still. And she did.

"She still isn't awake?!" the low tone sounded like a man's, roughly around their thirties. "I swear, when that bitch wakes up, I'm gonna skin her alive."

"Do not speak," this time, it was a woman who spoke. "It will only tamper with the herbs' side effects. We need her alive, and compliant."

"Why the hell do we need her?! SHE IS WEAK! Could barely walk, let alone chant!"

"We not only rely on her abilities, but she is the key to breaking the seal that is imprisoning our ancestors," the other argued. "Without her, we are nothing but blind mice. Our success lies in the strength of her amnesia."

She shook, but they didn't seem to notice.

"Amnesia, huh?" He sighed heavily. "Alright then, but you have to promise me one thing."

"What is it?"

A pause. "That I will get my revenge on that snotty brat."

"Of course," she giggled. "After all, you wouldn't be here otherwise."

Chapter 1

On a late evening Saturday mid-December, 1887, the Phantomhive carriage trailed down the dusty paths of stone and pulled beside the curb of an abandoned building east of London. Sebastian Michaelis, family butler, stepped out of the vehicle and offered a helping hand to his master, kneeling until the boy's toes touched the gravel. During the ride, the young earl contemplated over the wellbeing of his manor. The three imbeciles serving under him made a habit of constantly damaging the mansion's strong points, in such a way that was sometimes irreparable. It made his butler's job more challenging and kept the servant on his toes, which was probably why the raven was as witful as he was. Either way, it increased the boy's expectations when it came to Sebastian's ability. Otherwise, the game would be boring.

"Young Master," Sebastian called out, "was the ride bearable?"

The young earl scowled, calm yet irritated.

"Sebastian, I am not some homesick puppy that needs to be catered to every few minutes." he answered. "Do not underestimate the Phantomhive name."

The butler bowed. He wouldn't dare admit how amusing his young master was when angered. "Yes, my Lord. Shall we begin our search?" he inquired instead.

Centered in the middle of rubble, the Phantomhive lord could see the tainted markings of a symbol hidden beneath the debris, stained into the rock, painted in blood. On the other side of the room, beside a wooden desk covered in cobwebs, were a set of freshly used candles. Someone had been there. He had studied every detail about the scene for a brief period of time before beckoning his servant to come closer. For a short instance, a sliver of moonlight would reflect onto the floor, shinning in between two second intervals.

It was an amulet. The young earl glanced at the object with disdain-it's ornate silver chain sparkling around the emerald cut deep blue stone-dangling it between his fingers before placing it in his coat pocket. It matched the ring on his left thumb. "I don't see a reason for anyone leaving it here." he said, "after all, this is quite the clue, isn't it?"

The diminished flooring was lined with busted marbles, centered around the remains of a dead corpse.

It was cold. Dark. Stifling. And the boy felt his lungs tightening under another attack. Sebastian turned toward him, catching the earl with ease and untied the chords of his eyepatch. Ciel's chest violently heaved, shuddering under the butler's hold. "Young Master, call my name."

The Phantomhive lord's mismatched eyes faded into coral, slit by a diamond shaped pupil. "...sebas...seb...sebastian!..."

Sebastian lifted his chin. "It must feel horrible, being stuck in such a feeble form. Humans are weak creatures. But you are no human, are you, Young Master?"

The boy didn't answer. Instead, he fisted the servant's uniform and clung harder onto him. Sebastian grinned, feeling exceptionally superior over the noble, as if he was in complete control.

After a while the boy calmed down and removed himself from his butler, whipping his sweat soaked forehead. Wandering away from the scene, Ciel spotted what looked like a carving-the curving of letters imprinted into the bark of a towering tree, a single name that seemed to claim the enchanted wood. Cassandra Eberstark.

"Sebastian, take me back to the mansion," he ordered. "I think we've gathered enough information, for now."

"Yes, my Lord."

After a refreshing bath, when his alabaster skin was cleansed from his late night visit, the boy was dried off with a plush towel and sent to bed. He could still feel the boiling rage that built two years prior, the knifing pain that flared through his abdomen. Fire eating at his flesh from the inside.

Exiting the double doors of his bedroom, carrying nothing but a candlestick, his butler disappeared into the empty corridors of the manor.

It was then Ciel recognized the uncanny resemblance the markings he had found to the branding on his back. The shape, its design, the curse-all of his knowledge on the subject pieced together the moment he rested his head onto the pillows. But what will confirm his suspicion?

Ciel kicked his feet over the bed, leaving its silk sheets, and slipped into the halls of his home. His bare feet sped to his study, his heels lightly tapping against the floor with little noise. He quietly skimmed through the row of shelved books. They were old; the pages were wrinkled and musty while others exhibited mold, as if they sprouted tiny shrooms.

The noble underlined the string of sentences with the tip of his finger while he silently read to himself. From there he pictured the descriptions of unknown occurrences that linked to the recent murders, stopping at the sight of a sketch at the top right corner. It was the exact drawing of the amulet he now possessed.

Retracing his steps back to his room, Ciel opened the windows, inhaling the scent of grass and swishing trees. The wind seemed to be calling out to him. He stared at the ground, the bushes, and the garden until he caught sight of a woman. A red cloak shielded her identity, slumping against the curves of her body. The boy watched as her hands traced imaginary lines in the wind. Finishing as soon as they started. Something was pinning him to his spot, some sort of spell.

Then a light bulb clicked in the back of his mind, she was a witch.

Before he had any time to think, his butler broke the connection between them and swiftly yanked the long drapes off the rails and over his body. The woman vanished.

"You really shouldn't sneak around at such a late hour," the butler said. "What would have happened if I didn't make it in time?"

"...you would have..." Ciel grimaced. "...or else, it would mean going against the contract."

That's right, he was safe under the terms of their deal. A promise made under the influence of rage. Only one thing drove the boy to live as a little runt. Vengeance. On not only those who've stripped him of his power, but also the ones who sealed them. The demons that made him vulnerable. If it wasn't for Sebastian, he would have died that day. But now, he was alive. And one name swirled in his mind, the one clue that would break the curse placed on him. Cassandra Eberstark.