Chapter 1; In the Manor:

Warning: Rated M for swearing, violence, sexual themes, and merely a hell of a handsome demon. You have been warned…

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Kuroshitsuji' the manga or anime series 'Black Butler', or any of their characters. I am only using them to fulfill my own disillusioned dreams and fan-girl wishes. I will be following the anime adaptions mostly, as I own them all and have them at ready for reference. So spoilers.

I wanted to take my own spin with all of this Black Butler. I love this fandom to pieces and wanted to add my own little bit to it. So, yeah, different kind of plot other than having the girl be an angel or from our time, with a bit of inspiration from Buffy the Vampire Slayer if you know the series. Hope it will be interesting for you all.

This story starts just after the Red Butler arc. Please enjoy!

Vivian paced the floor. The sweep of her long, sheer dress followed after her as she paced and turned the length of her room. Her room. Such a strange thing to think. She had only lived in this house, this manor, all her life, and yet she never really thought of it as her own home. She had grown up in the dark towers of the castle in isolation, as had so many young women before her. Each had spent their days in this room, studying and training and pacing as she was now until they reached of age. And then…and then…

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Vivian froze. Her forget-me-not eyes watched the door in fear, but when the footsteps passed she breathed a sigh of relief. She had a few more moments to herself. Out of nervous habit, Vivian braided and unbraided her long hair, the same mouse brown as her mother's. Vivian had only known her mother through the portraits of her that hung in the halls. Cold and formal she was, with eyes of ice. To have been killed in childbirth after all the battles she faced in life must have been the worst of disgraces to her.

But now, those very battles, those enemies her mother slew and fought to purge from the world, they would be Vivian's. She would inherit them within the hour. Her heart raced with dread. She did not want this. She did not want her mother's life. But she had no choice. Vivian had the same blood, the same skills, and since the day of her tragic birth, she had been taught the same lessons. Now was the culmination of all that she had endured. If she was deemed worthy, she would survive to fight her way into the bowels of hell. If not, she would die this very night.

To Vivian it was not much of a choice. But it was one she would be forced to make tonight nonetheless.

A knock at her door. Vivian stilled as she saw the door open, and two masked men stepped inside.

"Lady Cartwright, it is time."

Vivian felt herself begin to shake, but nodded to the two gentlemen. She could not tell who they were under the masks, and did not care. They were all the same. The cowards who pledged loyalty to her family to profit from the sacrifices they made. Like leeches, they would enjoy the spoils of the war she was about to wage.

Without a word, Vivian followed the two men. The sheerness of her dress left all of her visible, but Vivian's modesty had been pushed aside by her terror. As she trailed after the gentlemen, she could hear the music begin. Drums, slow and chanting, were accompanied incantations of a hundred unseen people. Down, down, and further down into the manor that was not a home she was led. When they reached the vault, the light was limited to the few candelabras that had been brought below.

All along and around the room were men and women masked and cloaked. They had come to witness the Ceremony. Vivian paid them no mind, rather, her eyes were trained on her father. He stood in the middle of the space, within the concentric circles interwoven with ancient runes painted on the stone. Vivian could feel its glow of power even before she crossed its threshold. Abandoned by her escorts, Vivian faced her father with a cold familiarity. In her sixteen years of life, there had been no love garnered or lost between them. But now…Vivian almost wished he would at least look a little reluctant to sacrifice his only child.

"Intra ovili pecus et genua." He instructed her, his voice low. Vivian, fearfully, did as she was bid. She stepped closer to her father, entering the inner circle, and knelt before him.

"Utinam dignuz inventus erit vobis…may you be found worthy." Father's voice echoed over the stone walls, prodding the shadows the candlelight cast to dance. In his hands he held a chalice filled with dark liquid. One might think it wine, but Vivian knew it to be blood…

"Tempus est quia nova venator suam. Cum singulas generationes cunctae posthac ad aeternum, donec non hostem…"

Vivian could feel the power father's voice invoked well up within her. The power of her mother, and every woman and man before her. The power of the Hunters. She tried to accept it with pride, but something in her heart trembled. It took all of her strength to accept the chalice from her father as he handed it to her.

"The blood of the Divine will enter you, and if you accept God and your mission, the power of a Hunter will be yours." Her father whispered now to Vivian. "You will dedicate your mind, your body, and your soul to the eradication of the unholy. Do you accept this burden?"

"I accept." Vivian managed to say without stammering.

"Then drink the blood…and may you be accepted by the Divine as their Hunter…"

Vivian brought the glass to her lips, hesitated a little, and then drank. The liquid, the blood, burned down her throat like fire. She had managed to swallow it all before the fire took over her own blood, scorching her thoroughly. A cluster of sparks grew in her chest, overwhelming Vivian. Her breath was lost, her lungs screamed for air, but Vivian was too busy screaming in pain to pay them any mind. Her body was wracked in agony, and she threw herself prone to the ground to clutch desperately at the hard stones beneath her.

The fire grew and grew, and in that moment Vivian felt pity for the devils of hell if this was what they faced for all eternity. Vivian whimpered as a darkness closed in around her, wondering if she might ever get the chance to wake up again. The last thing she saw before it consumed her was her hair turning as white as milk…

…Two years later…

In a mist covered forest not far from London, there resides a manor.

A serene place, with well-kept lands, gleaming windows and grey stone walls. A fine estate to be sure.

Unlike most things in this world, the inside of this place was much like the outside, matching in finery and elegance. But whereas there was evidence of life through birdsong and the soft glow of the rising sun on the outside, here there was only silence and stillness. Thick and oppressive to those who are used to the lightness of the joyously living, betraying the true nature of the estate and its history.

For a brief moment though, sound stirred as a bell toll cut dully through the air, chiming the morning's hour.

And suddenly in the foyer, there stood a butler clad in pitch black, ready to start the day.

Sebastian, tall and poised, made his way up the steps with a grace that people often labeled as inhuman. The irony was not lost on him, despite his master constantly accusing him of being tiresomely dull in regards to humor. Perhaps he was, but then, it was always the little things that amused Sebastian. Life after all was about the littlest of pleasures, for they were always the sweetest. A polished set of sliver, well-tailored tailcoat, a carefully prepared meal, a drop of blood, a stained soul, and a contract fulfilled…ah, yes. The little things were indeed the things worth relishing, and how better to enjoy that relish than to postpone them as far as hunger could stretch itself?

To be a demon was to be ruled by one's hunger. And when one was a demon, satisfaction for that hunger could only be found in the sweet pleasure of a soul traded for a contract. But Sebastian was not one to be guided alone by such a debase instinct in favor of cheap souls. He preferred the savor of patience, the long steeping of time. A soul dripping with despair, once having been so pure, was the only true feast. While many of his contracts had been short, even by human standards, the petty, insignificant favors that were asked of him were hardly entertaining. A slaughter here, a rise to power there, a night of ultimate pleasure…oh, how dull. Many demons were satisfied alone with these, but Sebastian grew to enjoy the delight of a challenge over his many centuries. To postpone the contracts consumption, ah, such sweet torture… after all, the hungrier one is, the more satisfying one's dinner shall be.

Torture. Yes. That was a fitting word to describe the service Sebastian endured for the sake of his contract with the young Lord Phantomhive. While an intriguing soul who acted with a wisdom far beyond his years, in essence he was still just a child and very much a spoiled brat. Every day was a vexation, especially of late. After the unfortunance of Madame Red's demise, things had been quiet. Even among the servants. While this normally would have delighted Sebastian, this left him with a rather bored and frustrated Ciel. It would seem without a case to work on, the young master felt stagnated and jaded. As such, he found ways to entertain himself, namely by pestering Sebastian with all sorts of menial tasks.

Honestly, it was really quite tiresome. It is true a butler lives to serve, and Sebastian was nothing if one hell of a butler. But even he, a demon, could succumb to irritation at the very least. If only something would come their way. Otherwise Sebastian would have to endure tutoring the young master in yet another lesson in the waltz. And that was a trial neither of them wished to go through yet again–

A knocking rang out, lifting Sebastian away from the haze of his thoughts.

"Now who could that be?" Pondered the butler. Putting aside the silver he had been polishing, he went to the door.

"The Queen?" Spoke Ciel Phantomhive as he sat himself up in his bed, rubbing his eyes from the sleep Sebastian had woken him from. The demon responded by lowering the letter he had placed upon the silver tray he was carrying.

"Yes, and for it to be personally delivered this early, it must be of vital importance."

The young master nodded in agreement, though still looked quite irked for having been woken up so early. He could barely see the sun rising between the parted curtains of his window. Yes, for a letter to come this early, it must be of the utmost severity.

"Open it and read it to me." Commanded Ciel, too tired and bleary eyed to do so himself. The butler did as he was told, picking up the letter opener he had on the tray to swiftly break the seal.

"My dear boy, I am afraid I must call upon your services once more…" Began the butler as his master listened intently to his Queen's plea. By the time Sebastian was done reading, the Queen's reasons for urgency became apparent.

"Seven victims? And no leads?" Ciel wondered.

The demon smiled.

"It seems Scotland Yard is out of their depths once more."

"Yes, though it does not help us any that there are no clues left behind at the scenes of the crimes." Grumbled the young master as he started to get out of bed. He sipped the cup of jasmine tea his butler had poured for him, enjoying the warmth that traveled down his throat as he thought of his first move. In his mind it would be best to get this over with as soon as possible, to give the Queen assurance of the justice she so wished. The first step would be going over the scenes of the crime himself, which of course would mean traveling to London. Why was it always London?

"And neither does the fact that each victim has been torn apart, practically eviscerated. With their hearts missing..." Pondered the butler out loud to himself as Ciel reviewed the ghastly photographs taken of the crime scenes. Truly, a bloody sight. The work of someone clearly depraved. He had seen much of human tragedy and depravity, but he was gladdened by occasions like this in which they continued to surprise even him. Perhaps this was the very reprieve from boredom both he and his master had been wishing? This idle thought was confirmed when Ciel put aside the letter.

"Pack what is needed Sebastian. We will leave immediately."

The demon bowed with a hand to his chest.

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian smirked to himself. It seems the small, quiet reprieve was indeed at an end. It would be quite enjoyable to see where this little chore would take them. At his master's word, Sebastian prepared all that was needed. The journey to London would not be long, and not much would be needed for now. Who knew what they might find there though. Sebastian might be pressed to say he was eager to find out.

But then…why all of the sudden did the phrase 'be careful what you wish for' come to the demon's mind? He did not know…

Well, that is all for chapter one! It was sort of a prologue, as the chapters following this will be much longer. Please join Vivian next week as she comes face to face with a devilish butler...