Hello to one and all! This is Deiru Tamashi, here to welcome you to my house of plot-bunnies! As both the title and summary suggested, this is just a place for me to house the random ideas for fanfictions that appear in my head while I work on my ongoing ones. The ideas I post here may become fics… or they may not. It's all up in the air. That being said, I do wish to hear what you guys think of the ideas I put here, so that I have something to work with in regards to the response I get from my viewers! Have fun!
Summary: Ciel has decided that the best way to cast his enemies into Hell is to use the light of Heaven. And so, rather than a demon, he calls froth an angel to help his get his revenge. An angel of massacre. Rated M; follows the plot of the anime.
Kuroshitsuji: Shiromeido
Ten-year-old Ciel Phantomhive sat in the corner of his cell, knees drawn to his chest and shivering from the cold. The cell itself was built with dark brown bricks that were covered by a layer of water and had a small cot in the corner, with the cell itself lighted by a torch on the outside of the iron bars. He had been stuck in here even since the fire had burned down the Phantomhive mansion, taking his parents from him in a fiery blaze.
As if fate had wanted to be additionally cruel, the fire even consumed the family dog, Sebastian. Even since then, he had been sold by his kidnappers to a strange group of cultists, who had in turn branded him with their mark on his side. That mark consisted of an upside-down pentagram surrounded by a thorned circle, and Ciel absolutely hated that mark with every fiber of his being. Just having it on him made him feel dirty, unclean and, above all, ashamed. Ashamed that he had been unable to stop whoever had burned down his home from doing so, unable to help Old Man Tanaka when he had been knocked out, and unable to escape from his confinement.
That is not to say that the young Phantomhive spent every waking moment inside his cell. Oh, no. Whenever there was some form of menial work to be required (which there almost always was), they would pull Ciel from his confinement and work him like a slave from dawn to dusk. Once that was done, they'd throw him back in with a pitcher of water and half a loaf of stale bread for dinner. Or rather, he ate half of the loaf they gave him. The other half would be his breakfast.
With all this put together, it was a wonder that the ten-year-old had not suffered some form of mental breakdown by now. In fact, it was in fact because Ciel was that boy that he had yet to break. Prior to all this, Ciel had been naïve to emotions such as hate and disgust. Anger, yes, displeasure, yes, but never hate. It was these cultists and the unknown culprit for his parent's murder that had introduced Ciel to hate, and now he clung onto it as his lifeline.
Hate gave Ciel the strength he needed to carry on, to live until he had the chance to enact his revenge against these monsters. It reminded him to eat, how to drink, how to breathe. Until Ciel Phantomhive had obtained his revenge, he would never die.
Ciel was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Looking past his cell, he saw the door that led further into… wherever he was… open and shut as a pair of the cultists walked through. As usual, their appearances were obscured by their solid black robes they were, but by the scraggly beard on one of them he could guess that that one was a male, while the figure of the other led him to believe that the second was female.
He did know for certain that the man wasn't the same one as last time. Almost every week they sent someone new, hoping that at least one of them could get Ciel to cooperate with them in following orders more. Or at least with less resistance. He was proven right about their genders when the first cultist said "Time to get up, boy," and the second added "We've got one last job for you," in voices that were clearly male and female respectively.
Ciel didn't respond to their commands verbally, instead choosing to simply glare at them in defiance. For a moment there was silence, until the man said "Come on, we just need you to do this one last thing. That can't be too hard, can it?" Not believing them for a second, Ciel remained silent and continued glaring.
The woman sighed. "Give it up. He's not listening to you either," she said. The man sighed as well, quickly conceding that she was right. And so, as was the usual procedure, the man produced a set of keys and unlocked the cell door. Ciel didn't bother trying to run, since he knew that they specifically came in pair so someone could sand by the door if he tried. As it was, the man quickly approached and delivered a swift chop to the neck that knocked the boy unconscious.
Moving quickly, the make cultist caught Ciel before the child could hit the floor and stood. With a grunt, he hefted Ciel over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walked out, locking the cell shut behind him. "Looks like you were right. Damn brat; I don't know why we keep bothering with him," he stated.
The female cultist smirked in reply. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, we won't be needing to keep him with us after tonight," she said. That did get a smile out of her comrade, who stood straighter. "You know; this kid is feeling a lot lighter now. Let's get going," he said, walking out the door. His fellow cultist chuckled and quickly followed.
When Ciel awoke, he blearily opened one eye to take stock of his surroundings. Just from looking up he couldn't make much of the ceiling, save that it was too high for him to make out in the limited light on whatever room he was in. However, when he tried to sit up, he felt his arms and legs meet resistance.
Snapping his eyes opened in shock, the heir to the Phantomhive legacy looked around much more alertly. He was lying on top of wooden table in the main prayer room of the cultists' hideout, which in turn was completely obscured by darkness save for a ring of torches along the walls around him as from the skylight above him that exposed a full moon.
Ciel also quickly noticed that he had been stripped of any clothing with the exception of a red cloth that covered his from his waist to his knees. His wrist and ankles were also strapped to the table via leather straps with buckles, which bit into his skin when he tried to move. To add the icing on the cake, he could see the shapes of the entire cult surrounding him. Those cultists were chanting some sort of prayer or incantation, sounding rather excited as they did.
From amongst the cultists, one approached Ciel. This one's robes were different than the others, as while they were still black, that were lines with red on the edges and possessed the same mark Ciel was branded with on the portion of the robe over the cultist's heart. This could only mean that this one was the leader.
The head cultists cleared his throat and the others stopped chanting. "Tonight, we take our greatest step forward in achieving our ultimate desire. Under the light of the full moon and with this sacred circle, we shall call forth the greatest power of all and become unstoppable!" he declared, spreading his arms. The others fanatics cheered, and the leader said "But first, if we were to do as we wish, we must pay the accompanying tribute!"
The leader turned back around to face Ciel, drawing and dagger from his robes. Ciel's breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked onto the weapon. It possessed a curved blade and bottom of it had an onyx gem, while a pentagram was carved into the help. The blade gleamed almost unnaturally in the moonlight, showing that it had been recently sharpened and oiled. Likely for just this event.
Ciel struggled harder against his bonds as the lead cultists raised the dagger up high. "Wait a minute! You said that you had a job for me!" he cried out.
The leader grinned fiendishly. "That we did. And your final task… is to DIE!" he roared, winging down and plunging the dagger into Ciel's stomach, right below his ribcage. Blood quickly began to rise up from around the blade, which must have hit an artery. The blood got onto the leader's gloves as he pulled back, leaving the dagger lodge inside the Phantomhive.
Taking off his bloodied gloves and handing them to one of the other fanatics, he called "It is done. Now your blood will be the offering needed to complete this ritual, and you shall act as the stepping stone for our ascension!" The others cheered once again at this, before resuming their chants at an even louder and more feverish pace than before.
Getting desperate, Ciel thrashed around and gave everything he had to breaking free. But the more he struggles, the fast he bled out, until the blood began dripping off of the table and onto the markings written on the floor. Slowly, he began losing the feeling in his limbs, starting with the pins and needles and eventually total numbness. His thrashing began to lessen as well, Ciel's vision turning hazy as his hearing also grew muffled.
Despite his resolve, fear began to enter the thoughts of the young Phantomhive. Regardless of his will to live, his desire to obtain revenge, he still had failed to fulfill his desire. And now here he was, bleeding out on a table while being surrounded by a group of fanatic lunatics. No, there had to be a way out of this. There had be some way, someone, who could provide assistance! Summoning his last shred of hope and closing his eyes, Ciel, lacking the strength left to scream aloud, shouted as loud as he could in his mind.
'If there's anyone who can get me out here, help me!'
Now, let one thing be made perfectly clear. Even though Ciel hoped to receive a response, a part him did not actually expect one. His thoughts were the frantic ones of someone who was about to die, the cry of dying child. For indeed, that was what the ten-year-old was: a child. The idea of getting a response was frightening not only in that fact that it meant that someone could hear his thoughts—which was scary enough—but that meant that whoever replied was most certainly not human.
So, when he heard a voice talk back to his mental scream, you can understand his shock.
"Is that so, little boy?"
"Huh?!" Ciel said, snapping his eyes back open and looking around. He was still lying on his back and with the cloth covering his, but now he was hovering in a space that was definitely not the hideout of the cultists. Instead, the space around him was a blank grey tinged with white, while all around him feathers slowly fell to what constituted the ground below. And those feathers were as white as the driven snow.
Above him, he could make the shape of someone—a woman—whose features were obscured by glow of light that seemed to surround her. Nonetheless, he could hear her voice, as beautiful as chiming bells. "And what are you willing to exchange in return for my help?" she asked.
Coming over his shock, Ciel frowned and stared right at the unknown woman. "I'm willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to obtain my revenge. For shaming me, these cultists will die. And once that is done, I'm enact my vengeance and those who humiliated me and killed my family, no matter what," he said determinedly.
The woman chuckled. "My, such burning resolve, especially when possessed by someone so young. You have piqued my interest, Ciel Phantomhive. Be that as it may, I can offer no assistance without a bargain being struck. I shall free you from your confinement and assist you in seeking revenge… in exchange for your soul," she told him.
Ciel gasped at that, but remained silent. The woman continued "Now, I want you to think carefully. Should you accept this pact, not only will the Gates of Heaven forever bar you from passing through, but even the flames of Hell will not be in your reach. Instead, you shall be chained to this Earth, and to me, for eternity. Are you willing to accept that?" she asked.
Ciel glared at her at that. "Do you honestly think that I would ask for help if I cared about something like that?" he demanded. The woman chuckled. "No, I suppose not. However, I'll ask one more time. Do you wish to form a contract?"
He nodded. "I do. Now stop wasting my time and do as I asked!" he ordered. The feather surrounding them began swirling around at that, and Ciel's sight began to grow hazy once more. Before he lost his sight completely, though, he could see a pair of wing extend from the woman's back.
Back in the real world, the chanting of the fanatics had finally come to stop as they waited for the being they all hoped for to appear. However, as the minutes continued to pass by, impatience overcame anticipation, as it is wont to do with humans. One of the female cultists shouted "What's going on? Why hasn't anything happened yet?"
That one voice in turn caused the others to begin questioning the proceedings, asking what had gone wrong. The lead cultist looked at the ritual before them. Nothing was wrong, it couldn't have been. The circles, the writings, the incantations, even the timing of the lunar cycle and the live sacrifice. Everything had been done in exactly the right way. So where had it all gone sideways? Then he took a look at the prone form of Ciel Phantomhive, and realized it.
"The boy! He's still alive!" he called.
That caused surprise amongst them, at least until the male cultists with the beard called "Then what are we waiting for? Kill him!" The other fanatics also voiced that same sentiment, building up into a continuous shout of "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" The leader quickly stepped in front of Ciel and ripped the dagger back out. Ignoring the slight spray of blood it caused in his anger. Aiming for right between the boy's eyes, he called "We will not be denied!" and swung down again.
Only for Ciel to become wreathed in a cocoon of light that blasted outwards in all directions. The blast was such that the light hit him like a physical force, sending the lead cultist staggering and dropping the dagger. Within that light, the straps holding Ciel down erupted into blue-white flames, quickly turning to ash while Ciel was unharmed. In fact, the wound on his stomach quickly healed and began stitching itself shut, not even leaving so much as a scar behind.
Then the light grew in intensity and began coalescing above Ciel, where it faded to reveal a winged woman hovering over him. For the cult leader, even a baser part of him had to admit that the woman was beautiful in appearance. The woman was tall and dressed in a lavender and white dress, with the bottom half of the dress seeming to be made of feathers. She had blue-white hair and dark purple eyes which radiated warmth and serenity.
As beautiful as she was, though, the lead fanatic was able to quick tell exactly what she was. "An angel! An angel has interrupted this ceremony!" he yelled. The others shared his anger, and that rage only grew the longer the angel hovered there. Their objective was clear now. The boy could die later. First, the angel had to go.
Ignoring the ramblings of these lesser beings, the angel smiled down at the Ciel. "Tell me, child, are these the ones who you seek freedom from?" she asked.
Ciel slowly sat up and groaned, looking over at the cultists and glaring with anger. They quickly realized the situation they were in, especially when Ciel said "Yes, there are." The angel nodded and rose into the air, the gentle warmth in her gaze replaced with fiery disgust.
"I find the actions you humans have taken deplorable. Taking an innocent child and using him as a sacrifice for your own gain? How vile. Your souls are unclean, your greed unnecessary, your existence… unwanted," she said, flapping her wings. The feathers of those wings began glowing.
"Snuff out the unclean. Snuff out the unnecessary. Snuff out the unwanted," she said.
The light grew to blinding levels.
"End them."
And then screams began filling the air as the angel unleashed a volley of feathers down on the cultists. Each one had the power to pierce skin, tear through flesh, and even crack bones. Each flap of her wings sent another barrage of the feathers down, mowing through the fanatics with little effort. Those of the cultist with weapons tried charging at her, but they too were swiftly eliminated.
It was over in a matter of minutes. Before this night, the number of members the cult possessed had been approximately fifty. And now? Now they numbered at zero. Blood swiftly began pooling from all the dead bodies, though both Ciel and the angel ignored the smell of it. Instead, the angel lowered down to the ground and bowed her head while Ciel got off the table and stood straight, the cloth tied at his waist.
"Well? What now?" Ciel asked.
The angel looked up and smiled serenely. "Now, I must lay my mark upon you, Ciel Phantomhive. The mark I place upon you will bind the two us together and confirm the contract. The more obvious the placing of the mark, the more tightly bound the two of us will be. And once the mark has been placed, you will lay out the most basic terms of our contract. So, I must ask, where do you wish for me to mark you?" she said.
He thought about it for a moment, before shrugging. "I don't care where. Just so long as it gives me the strength I need to exact my vengeance," he stated. The angel nodded at that and reached forward, placing her hand over Ciel's right eye. Before the young Phantomhive could stop her, she released a large burst of holy light.
Ciel screamed as he felt the light burn his right eye, but the pain went even further than that. The light reached down into his soul. Changing it. Making it the property of the angel. When the light at last faded, Ciel opened his eyes, and in place of its usual shining blue, his right eyes was colored off white with a black mark in the center. (The brand on Ciel's side in canon.)
With the mark made and the contract made official, the angel folded her wings against her back and dropped to her knees. "Now, my master, what is my name and orders?" she asked. Ciel looked down at her for a second, before finally smiling.
"Your orders are to serve every command I issue. You will never lie to me in any way shape or form, you will place my life above yours in importance, and you will assist me in obtaining my revenge. Only once that is done will you be allowed to have my soul. Those are your orders…" Ciel said, before pausing as he thought of a name.
Then it came to him, and he finished "Those are you orders, Angela Blanc."
Angela smiled at the name. 'White Angel'. How fitting. But rather than say that, she simply nodding, accepting her new master and new life.
And that's it. This is the plot bunny that's been ravaging my mind for the past several weeks, mainly due to the fact that I finished watching both seasons of Black Butler and got the idea of Ciel having an angelic servant instead of a demonic one.
So! Tell me what you guys think of this. Should I add it to my list of future stories, should I not, and what would you like to see? My only request is to be constructive in any criticism you provide. Thank you!
Please review! If you flame me then Bruce Lee will smash you with his nunchaku. (I'm just kidding… or am I?)
