SAVING SOULS
Chapter 1: Introduction
Allen stared fearfully up at the mansion in front of him, a small whine of fear escaping from his lips as he stared up at the large, three story building.
How'd I get myself into this? He thought despondently, a sweatdrop forming on his forehead as he recalled how he had gotten roped in to the most recent scheme by his master.
General Marian Cross sat stoically in a leather winged chair, staring down at his young apprentice through his thick bangs. A glass of chilled red wine was swirled lazily as he let young Allen sweat and anxiously await his next assignment.
"Allen," General Cross said quietly. The young twelve year old jumped and began sweating as he realized he'd been taken by surprise.
"Y-Yes Master?" he asked nervously, fidgeting under the Generals hidden gaze.
"I have a task I need you to accomplish," he said, taking a small sip of his wine. "There's an old friend of mine who lives just outside of London. He's given me a lot of help these past few years. However, nothing is free. He's recently been urging me to send someone to help with a string of murders and kidnappings. I want you to head over and deliver this letter to him," he held out a thick, yellow envelope with a wax seal stamped on the back with the generals emblem. Allen gulped but nodded, relieved that his task was something as easy as delivering a letter this time. He reached out for the letter and safely tucked it into his shirt, before heading off to find the next train to London.
Allen gulped as the cart he had hitched a ride on stopped in front of the enormous, solid oak doors that made up the front entrance. Thanking the man and giving him a small percentage of the meager pocket change his master had sent him off with. The man grumbled at the small amount, but pocketed it all the same. With the cart driver gone, Allen nervously faced the gates and worked up his courage to knock. Before his hand even touched the wood, the door was opened smoothly, and Allen gaped at the old man who stood there. He was tall, but not taller than his master; and he was dressed in an odd black suit with a gold pocket watch. The old man stared down at Allen, making him squirm. It wasn't as if the butlers gaze was malicious, but it was incredibly intense.
"May I ask what a young boy like yourself is doing all the way out here in the country?" Allen cleared his throat nervously.
"Um...My name's Allen Walker; and I was sent by General Cross Marian to give the Earl Phantomhive this." he said, holding out the yellowed envelope. The elderly butler glanced at the envelope.
"It would be best for you to hold on to that for now Mr. Walker. I will escort the Earl to you immediately. Please, come in." Allen sighed in relief and followed the Butler into the expansive mansion. "I am Tanaka, the head butler for the Phantomhive manor. On behalf of all the servants, I bid you welcome," he said, giving a slight bow. Allen blushed.
"No, no, please! You don't need to go to such lengths for me! Just tell me what to do, I'm in need of a job anyway!" To pay off Masters horrendous debts, he thought with a nervous smile. Tanaka came back up.
"Be that as it may, for now you are a guest of the Phantomhive family, and shall be treated as such," he led the way into a medium sized parlor, heated by a cheery fire that added to the warm, earthy tones the room was done in. Allen took a seat on the couch in front of the fire, taking off his mitt and glove and putting his hands over the fire, sighing as the warmth crept into the very bones of his hands. The sound of boots on the hardwood floors alerted Allen to the return of Tanaka, and Allen hastily scrabbled for his mitt to cover his hand, not wanting the servants to be repulsed by the deformed limb. Unfortunately he had been careless and tossed it halfway across the room. By the time he got it, the door was already opening. Hurriedly he stuffed the mitt under him and tucked his hand into his pocket, squishing up against the side of the couch so it wouldn't seem so suspicious. Tanaka held open the door and a man younger than his master stepped into the room. His slate colored black hair seemed almost blue in the light of the fire, setting up a stark contrast to his warm brown eyes. His regal bearing and unconscious authority had Allen straightening in his seat. Phantomhive frowned briefly in puzzlement, before giving a heartwarming smile to the young boy, the same he would give his own child. Instinctively, Allen felt a similar smile creep its way across his face.
"Hello there, I am the Earl Vincent Phantomhive," Allen beamed up at this nice, gentle man.
"I'm Allen Walker, apprentice to General Marian Cross," he stated proudly. Vincent's expression went somber. So, that's what he was here for. He put a smile back on his face.
"Is that so? Well then hello to you Mr. Walker," he said, reaching across and shaking the young boys hand. "I'm Vincent Phantomhive." Allen giggled.
"You already said that Mr. Phantomive!" Vincent smiled merrily and laughed.
"So I did," he said, taking a set in the opposing chair and leaning against the back rest. "So, young Mr. Walker, I believe you have something for me?" Eyes widening in understanding, the boy began searching his pockets for the letter, only to realize- with a jolt- that the letter was in his left coat pocket, and he would have to show them his arm. Seeing the apprehensive look on the boys face, he leaned forward. "What's wrong? Did you lose it?" he asked, frowning as he thought of the irresponsibility if he had. Allen hesitantly shook his head. "Then may I have it?" he requested, holding out his hand.
"NO!" Allen cried, cringing into the couch and clutching his arm. Vincent frowned and began staring firmly down at the boy.
"Allen, if that's a letter from your master to me then I need to have it. Are you disobeying your mentor?" Allen flinched at the harsh tone of his words but shook his head, shaking and not making eye contact with the Earl.
"I-I don't want you to see..." he mumbled. Vincent's gaze became stormy.
"See what? The letter?" The boy shook his head. "What don't you want me to see?" Hh asked, gently reaching out for the boys left arm.
"NO!" Allen cried, curling further into the couch and trying desperately to hide his arm. The Earl leaned back into his chair. So, he had been right, there was something about that arm that the boy didn't want anyone to know about.
"It's okay Allen, I won't hate you, I just want to look," Allen flinched away from his touch.
"Yes you will. Everyone does, if they see it, they run away, or chase me off. The only ones who have accepted me are Master and..." Mana... Allen bit his lip and let the tears fall down his cheeks. Allen jumped when a gentle hand rested on top of his head, gently brushing his white bangs back and exposing the pentacle on his brow. He looked up to see compassionate amber eyes gazing gently down into his own. "I promise, no matter what, I won't be disgusted." Allen stared into his eyes a few moments more, then hesitatingly took his hand out of his pocket.
He couldn't help it. He stared. When Allen had refused to show his arm he had thought it might have been a scar, some sort of disfigurement that the boy was ashamed of, but nothing could have prepared him for this.
Red wrinkled skin, the color of old blood covered the entirety of the boys left arm. The skin felt dry and papery in his hand, feeling every bump and ridge of the arm under his thumb. He repressed the urge to shudder as he gazed at the black, talon-like nails and looked into the boys eyes, feeling all horror and disgust melt away. Allen's eyes were filled with tears and fear, fear that despite his promise he would become repulsed and send him away. Beaming down at the boy Vincent stroked the back of his hand with his thumb, noticing how soft the skin was, like velvet or old, well worn parchment.
"How long has it been like this?" he asked.
"Since I was born I think," Allen shrugged. "My parents abandoned me because of this arm. I was raised as part of a circus until Ma..." Mana... Allen wiped his eyes. "Until Master found me and told me what my arm was," He said. Vincent frowned. Throwing out a child simply because he as deformed? It was unthinkable.
"Thank you for sharing that with me Allen," he said, taking his seat back in his chair. "Now don't you have something to give me?" He queried playfully. Allen gave him a watery smile, before reaching into his left coat pocket and pulling out a thick yellow envelope with General Cross's emblem stamped in wax on the front. Vincent took it solemnly and opened the letter, unfolding a large sheaf of papers. He frowned and began reading the note written by Cross himself first.
Dear Vincent Phantomhive,
Based on the photographic evidence and dust samples you've sent us, the culprit behind the attacks is definitively an Akuma, most likely a level one. However, what worries me the most is the fact that the sites of these attacks coincide with the recent kidnapping victims. The Millennium Earl doesn't take hostages, it's not in his nature. Someone must have broken their connection with the Millennium Earl and is using them to help get their targets. This doesn't bode well. What worries me even more is the fact that whoever broke that connection, however weak it is at level one, would have to be extremely powerful and clever, and if they're smart enough, they will figure out you're looking for them and deal with you personally.
With that in mind I have sent my young apprentice, Allen Walker along with this letter to help you in your endeavors. I know he may not look like much, but his left arm is a very powerful Anti-Akuma weapon and his eye has the ability to spot Akuma, even when they're disguised. Don't worry, I've trained him well and he's a very bright boy, despite some outward appearances. He shouldn't give you any trouble.
Signed,
General Marian Cross
P.S: Tell your wife I said "Hi"
P.P.S: Due to his weapon being a part of his body, Allen's body needs extra nutrition, so don't be surprised if he eats half a banquet all by himself.
Sighing, Vincent Phantomhive pinched the bridge of his nose. Of all the...He knew Marian Cross was a good for nothing, womanizing lay-about; but sending a him a twelve year old? How much lower could the man possibly sink? I sincerely hope the good general has not been making the boy pay off all his debts like this. Resignedly, Vincent Phantomhive turned to Allen.
"It seems your master has employed you to work off a personal favor owed to me and wants you to stay here until this particular case is done," Allen froze, all color draining from him with a horrified incredulous look on his face. Vincent could almost hear the breaking glass as the young man processed what he had just said. "However, due to your youth I am reducing your work to acting as a bodyguard and playmate for my son Ciel, and his fiancé Elizabeth when she is here at the estate. If I require any further assistance I will call on you," he leaned down and put a hand on the stunned boys shoulder. "And just to spite the old codger you call a master, how about I throw in a private salary so you don't always have to bend to the old fool whims eh?" Allen stared, stunned at him, before an evil grin broke out on his face.
Vincent smirked.
