Welcome to my new series "Corpse Butler". Since I already planned everythng out, hell no I'm not backing out like I did to "Love and Toys", which is being a bitch to me since it's so damn hard to write anything for it. I mean, I understand that people want to see more of it, but I'm really at a block. I honestly can't come up with anything else for it. Q_Q
I'm sorry.
Also, since this is a mystery story as well as horror, tell me if any of you guys can't pick up on things so I know whether to make an explanation of the case when the whole thing is done.
Genre: Horror, Mystery
Status: Not Complete
Rating: PG 13
Warning: Nonromance, gore, not-so character death, when I showed my friend my notes I had for this she screamed and couldn't sleep at night
Fandoms: Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler, Corpse Party
Dimension: Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler
Disclaimer: All rights go to respectful owners (not me).
ALL TOGETHER I
It's cold.
Pitch black darkness weaved through the room, making a thick, taut air that choked any living thing with its coarse threads.
It's cold.
Opening his eyes, the child could not see a soul, or rather, could not hear a sound over the harsh pounding of the valiant storm that quaked outside with roaring thunder to aid in chorus.
It's cold.
Pulling at the bids that bid the use of his forelimbs farewell, the boy struggled on the floor like a fish out of water. He was sure he looked the part.
It's cold.
Naked body twisting and turning in unimaginable poses that should not be able to be accomplished by any ordinary person, a croaked sound left the depths of his throat. He laid down helplessly on the floor only to realize that he was gagged too, with no way of making his little voice known.
It's cold.
Though the room had no window, or any facility that let in light whatsoever, the relentless pattering could be heard and found no end, keeping up the pace in a strangely comforting way.
It's cold.
Staring at the grey stone wall, the boy breathed heavily. He had no energy, as it seemed he did not eat for days.
It's cold.
Blending perfectly with the chorus of falling precipitation, the boy did not notice the small and almost unnoticeable patter of bare footfalls headed toward him. Creeping up on the quarry, the guilty—the unclean, the hated—walked over to the boy. Slowly realizing he was being watched, he turned on his back to face the eyes of a murderer, only to be met with the rusty blades of scissors in the abdomen.
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. IT HURTS!
"My little boy,"
Upon arriving at the subject matter of his investigation, bypassing the weak defense of Scotland Yard, and pulling his entourage along, the young earl headed into a rickety old hallway, paved with cheap wood and walls that seemed as if they would give way like paper. He had been told that this would be a risky mission, as the area held many rumors. Most of them were quite upsetting.
"First of all, I would like to say season's greetings, as Spring is approaching. But, I'm afraid I can't spend the season in peace. Apparently, there have been horrifying events happening over in Bristol. I have only heard rumors, but apparently many children have disappeared from the area with no trace left behind."
"My lord," the earl's loyal butler said, snapping his master from his thoughts. "I think we should be extra careful here, if I may voice my opinion. The very floorboards do not seem like they will hold with our weight. And with those three following us…"
The young master waved his servant off. "I know it's not an ideal situation, but Bristol is very far away from my mansion and I didn't want to risk it being burned down while investigating."
"The talk of the town isn't much, but from what I have heard from my vigilant advisors, all the students who have gone missing were all decent of students from the same primary school. The school has been shut down due to being bought out by some mining company who found evidence of gold under the building. Since then, nobody has inhabited it. However, nobody was able to wreck the building and turn it into a mine because something kept them from doing it. I don't know why, but that is not of my upmost concern at the moment."
The black-clad servant rolled his eyes, mumbling, "If we brought them, it's this building we might put at risk."
"Shut up," the earl said, poking at some loose floorboards curiously. "At this point of time, we aren't sure what we're looking for exactly. It could have nothing to do with this old school at all. It just seems like a waste of time to have it around." Mumbling to himself, Earl Ciel Phantomhive said, "I wonder why they were driven away."
"Humans are strange creatures," the butler shrugged off, looking at an old bulletin board with deteriorated paper scraps on it. Each one of them was dated at least forty years back.
"What I'm worried about is why they went missing. Why must the children of these people go missing in an old and abandoned school? I would love it so much if you could at least find out what happened and what is causing this mess and report it back to me at once."
A loud chorus of footfalls echoed down the halls, heightened only by the threats the floorboards made when nearly caving in under the heavy feet. "Mr. Sebastian~!" the three other servants yelled. "Young master~! Wait up!"
Glaring heavily at the cook, gardener, and maid—the three equally incompetent, but family no less—Ciel huffed. "Be quiet, will you three?" he snapped. "You'll wake the rats."
Sniffling out mumbled forms of "I'm sorry," the three trailed the master and butler, making faces at all of the gruesome details the school grounds had to give.
"Scotland yard has been working on the case for nearly a year with little to no leads. I hope you can be of help."
"Let's start here," the little earl stopped at a single door in the corner of the hall. "It's best to move from the outside and work our way in." He waited for his butler to open the door for him before stepping inside with his chin held high. "Hopefully those daft twits Scotland Yard has didn't ruin any evidence."
"I put my trust in you with the whole of this case. Don't fail me now, my boy!"
Sebastian looked around the dusty room cautiously. Desks were scattered about the room in no line or order whatsoever, sprinkled with dust and forty-year-old graffiti. The teacher's desk was at the head of the room, standing tall and erect despite the legs that were bent and worn with age. Two doors stood at the opposite ends of the class, one leading to a closet and the other leading back to the hall.
"Also, you must come and share some of my apple cinnamon flavored doughrings, they're simply marvelous! Sincerely, Victoria."
"Young master," he said. "Perhaps we should have researched more before hoping we would stumble upon anything."
"What was there to research?" Ciel mumbled, wiping away some dust on the desk to uncover hateful messages the students left. "The libraries and local records had nothing that would hint about past dilemmas. Only about recent news, since newspapers aren't kept on record for that long."
The butler just rolled his eyes and approached the closet, inspecting it as if it would help them bring a quick conclusion to the case. "Still, it almost feels as if we're going in empty handed."
"That may be so—"
CRASH
"Maylene!" Ciel snapped, staring at the blatantly confused maid on the floor who was shrouded in guilt, pain, and broken desk pieces. "What happened?!"
With the quick help from the gardener, the clumsy Maylene hoisted herself up on her untied booted feet. "I-I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-sorry, sir!" she stammered, reeling some steps away, hiding behind the stoic chef to the side. "I-I-I tripped, yes I did!"
Sebastian and Ciel sighed simultaneously. Their decision to bring their most incompetent servants was slowly falling into regret.
"S-she didn't mean it," Finny tried, trying to loosen the air between the master and the maid. "It seems quite easy to break things here."
Ciel growled. "We can't afford to lose any more plausible evidence here," he stated, sauntering back over to the teacher's desk. "Heaven knows if Scotland Yard will blame us for the mess."
The demon snickered in a misinterpreted response.
"Blame us?" the chef asked. "We ain't doing nothing wrong!"
"I beg to differ," Sebastian cut off, stepping in front of the busy young master. "Apparently our first mistake was deciding to bring you three to the crime scene in the first place."
The room went deadly quiet.
Across the plain, Finny leaned his weight on the wall and let out a loud sniffle. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "W-we wanted to help, but—"
CRASH
"Finnian!" Ciel yelped as the wall under his gardener caved in and turned to rubble under the power of Herculean strength.
In a daze, Finny got up and stumbled recklessly over to his friends. Looking at them all cross-eyed, he mumbled out another, "I'm sorry," before going to lean on yet another desk that caved in. Staring horrified at all the wooden corpses, Ciel's bitty fists trembled.
"Look at what you did!" he screeched, taking fistfuls of his slate-colored hair and giving each root a quick tug. "How are we supposed to explain this to the Yard, or worse, the Queen?!"
Tears bubbling up at the edge of their eyelids, both Maylene and Finnian backed toward the exit. "W-we're s-s-so sorry, Young Master!" they sniffed before running out of the room in different directions, wailing to the rats.
Smacking his face, the master sighed at the display. "You guys…"
"Eh, should I go find 'em?" Bard asked, gesturing to the door.
"No," Ciel shook his head. "I'll go. I caused this mess, no matter how you look at it. You and Sebastian go and salvage what you can. It shouldn't be too hard."
Sebastian flinched. "Young Master, I don't believe you should—"
"It's alright," Ciel smirked, stepping outside the doorframe. "What's the worst that can happen? Plus, if we don't stop them soon, even more walls are bound to break."
"Young Master!"
With that, Ciel left, off to find the most lethal of the two twits.
Bard approached behind Sebastian, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, mate? It's an old school. Not like any ghosts are gonna pop up and eat him."
"I most certainly hope not."
Not understanding the innuendo of the statement, the chef and the butler got back to work, obeying their master's order, no matter how anxious they were to leave alive.
…
"Finny!" Ciel called, running through the halls and making note of all the walls with dents on them. The floorboards creaked messily like a lute that had long been out of tune. Under each pump of his short thin legs, it almost felt like he would fall through paper to the next floor under, or even possibly Hell itself. "Finny!"
Loud sobbing echoed across the wing, followed by the loud creak of knees falling to the ground.
"Finny…" Ciel sighed, leaning over his form. "Why on earth did you run off like that?"
Between the hitches and hics of his voice, the gardener spoke. "I-I-I thought y-you were m-m-mad and meeeeeeeee! Waaaaahhhh!"
"Well of course I'm mad. But that doesn't mean things won't get better. There's a whole school to check out. I'm not going to kill because of one room," the master cooed, giving the childish companion an awkward pat on the back.
"B-b-but M-Mr. Sebastiaaaaaaaan! He-he said… SNIIIIIIFFFFF—"
Ciel sighed. "Forget what he said. He's not the master. He has just as much of a right to be here as you do."
"B-but I broke—"
"I said it was okay!" Ciel relaxed his back next to his gardener, folding his hands behind his back and looking down at him. "I told you, it's nothing to be afraid of. We'll try elsewhere."
Finny wiped his drippy nose on his arm. "Y-you mean it?"
"…"
"Young Master?"
"Hush." Standing dead still in pin-drop silence, Ciel held his arms out in front of him, eye darting every which way. "Do you feel it?"
Looking confused at his master, Finny tilted his head and stood up, only to be caught off guard by the shaking of the very ground his feet were planted. "Wha?!"
Clinging to the cracks on the musty wallpaper, Ciel refused to be thrown off balance. "It's an earthquake!" he stated. "We need to find the others and get out. It's possible the roof might collapse on us."
Finny gasped, adding his own trembling to the rhythm of the building. "Col…lapse…?" he whispered before the beats of the ground grew harder, faster, and more frequent, growing into a shaky crescendo as all of the creaky floorboards, weak walls, and moldy supporting beams gave way. Ciel was violently thrown off his feet, and Finny only had time to catch his waist before the roof over their heads was beaten out of place.
"Young Master!"
"Finny!"
"Perhaps I was wrong. I should have known better than to go off running by myself in this damned place. I was stupid, there I said it. But, in that sort of place, one cannot afford this. They cannot afford to be alone. Because an ally, however daft or small he or she may be, may just be able to rekindle the inkling of hope you have left... if there was any to begin with." ~Earl Ciel Phantomhive
"I'm sorry I acted to childish back then. I should have known that the walls would crumple like paper like on a stage. Now that I think of it, the school was much like a stage, controlled by a strong and vengeful puppet master. And we were his puppets." ~Finnian, Gardener of Phantomhive
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