Prologue –
The serpent lay waiting, peering through the foliage that was its cloak, examining the child before him.
Eyes, scrutinizing and cold, embraced the pale skin. Traced along the soft, almost regal features, the chestnut-brown hair that fell in waves over the boy's forehead. Dressed quite simply in what many would describe as rags, tattered and loose-fitting, the child could not have been older than seven. The serpent watched, and the serpent waited. And the serpent drank in this tribute's, this immaculate sacrifice's essence. To its own surprise, the serpent found that the boy held a strange quality about him, as if, in some strange way, he was to play the role of the predator. And the serpent the prey.
Frightened by this thought, an experience never before held by a demon, the serpent feared for his own life. Ridiculous, it thought, as a demon's life cannot be ended, not without the use of that weapon, and the sheath of that weapon. . . .
At the bottom of a lake, thought the serpent. Trapped, eternally with her beloved little brat, her Highness. The Trancy child, but also that spider butler. . . . Claude Faustus. Yes, the she-devil Annafellows had dragged them all with her to her impossible grave. And Alois, that trouble-child, willingly. Happily.
Nevertheless, this child frightened him. The eyes that held his own were a deep, bright green, and half-closed as if exhausted, almost asleep.
And the child looked up.
Into the serpents gaze.
And the boy smiled.
I know what you are, Demon. The serpent drew back, surprised. It silently took up its coiled poise. Prepared now, for anything.
Are you afraid, Demon? Of a mere child? Surely not, no, not a high-and-mighty first-class devil such as yourself. Then speak.
The serpent drew closer to the boy now, excising the wound to its pride. The boy's smile grew even wider.
Good boy.
At this the serpent flinched. Actually flinched, which is outrageous in its own right. He, a demon, and this child, his meal? Why would he possibly, conceivably be . . . frightened?
The child's hand slid out from beneath his ill-fitting gowns, and stroked the tip of the serpents nose. Slowly, carefully, his delicate fingers curled around the point closest to the serpents skull. An ounce more of pressure, and the demon would choke.
Understand Demon, I do this not out of choice. As I have none. But your services will please me greatly should I bend them to my . . . tastes. The boy frowned, as if in thought, before continuing. Yes, I know. You will grant my wish, won't you Demon? And in return. . . .
Your soul is mine. The serpent finished, speaking up for the first time. A shiver ran up the serpents spine. That beautiful, delicious soul? His. In exchange for meager labours. A trifle, compared to the Demon's lifespan. . . . Yes. He would serve as this child's servant, his butler, and gain possession of his faultless being.
And so the contract is sealed, the child says, smirking. He drew, gently, the serpents head towards his own.
Your orders, master?
The boy put his lips to the serpents head, whispered words only for the Demon's ears, and waited for a reply.
The serpent flicked out its tongue.
Yes, my liege.
They stood together, child and Demon, and watched as before them the mansion sunk into the earth. Gone was the serpent. In its place, a tall, sturdy young man with exceptional beauty stood. Hair black as midnight smoothed back across his head. Eyes white as snow peered down on the sight so beautiful before them.
The manor, once proud and noble, had been reduced to half its size. This was, of course, because the other half was being pulled into the earth itself. Noblemen and servants alike screamed and fled in futility before an unseen force dragged them back towards where land met manor, and hell met earth. Shadows clawed and writhed, and sought only more nourishment. Satisfaction. Satiation.
How pitiful, the child said aloud. He grinned and turned to the man dressed perfectly in the black tailcoat and white gloves so befitting of a butler.
It is, however, much more efficient than having to go through the trouble of forming a contract with a human, and waiting, and serving. Why do you not just do this, Demon?
Believe what you may, master, but I am more than a raving beast.
The boy's smile grew. That so? Heturned back to the spectacle.
Remember, his voice came, darker now. I do not want you trying to weasel your way out of our contract, am I understood?
The demon inclined his head. Yes, my liege.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, a laugh rose from the child's throat. It echoed delightfully over the walls of the mansion, the bodies of the damned. They were both discordant and harmonic with the screams of the dying. He grinned maniacally.
Reap what you have sown, bigots. He grew silent. Then turned to his raven-haired butler.
From now on, when I call the name Joel Carlisle, you will appear at my side. This is correct, no?
Yes, my liege.
The boy smiled. And please, call me Elijah.
On the left of the child's neck, a bright red insignia shone forth. And on the butler, the same mark gleamed radiantly beneath the glove of his left hand. Now, they were together. Now, they could not be apart. Ever, and forever, they were bound to each other. The hunter will serve, and do his bidding. And in return, the prey can never escape.
Together, they watched as the world was drowned in misery.
