The Blood Red Contract

Of Old Meetings

~*~

Sebastian licked his blood-stained fingers, the lingering aura of young Ciel still wrapped around them; his lips suckling gently against his fingertips. Crimson eyes glowed in the darkness that cloaked the ruins as he started regenerating his left arm. He could feel the return of his powers.

He flexed his left arm, testing out how his new muscles felt. It had been a long time between the decapitation and the healing; he had been slightly worried if he would be able to regenerate his arm back. And that accursed angel had dealt the hit, he was quite sure that would have complicated matters.

But it seemed his worries had been unjustified; he lifted the stone bench where Ciel had just sat on, smashing it to the ground. After the dust had settled, the rubble seemed to become a marker, a tombstone to show that here Ciel's soul rested.

It had nothing to do with sentimentality; he just did not like to dine in the same spot twice.

That had been a particularly delicious meal. He had ensured Ciel's soul had been marinated to perfection, slow-cooked and tortured to bring out the best flavour.

It was fine-dining of the highest form. He was cultivator, cook and customer.

Though the meddling of that detective had nearly caused his meal to be ruined. That interfering man had brought a spark of hope, infused a will to live in Ciel with his words. But that had merely been like a miscalculation in the balance of marinade sauces. He had quickly rectified the problem and ensured the young master would take on the salt of hatred against living once again. All in all, Ciel had turned out wonderfully.

Hellfire burned in his eyes as he relived the memory of consuming his prey again. Planning his next meal would prove harder. As a consequence of his servitude to the reputable Phantomhive heir, more and more demons were turning to his methods of organically growing their food instead of just preying on the easily forgotten junk of society.

Those souls had easily satisfied wishes, which meant easily hungry demons. They were like snacks, while his young master had been like a princely banquet. Ciel's soul would last him for quite a while, seeing as how he had to kill an angel in order to obtain it.

Standing on a precipice overlooking the calm lake that surrounded the isle, the black demon flexed out his feathery wings, jumping off the height and taking flight towards the human world in search of his next meal.

~*~

He landed in London again, quickly hiding his wings. As he surveyed the carnage that was once orderly London, he realised this was in fact a most excellent choice for a hunting ground. Although relief efforts had begun, there were still people injured and crying in the streets, corpses strewn like haphazard trash on the wayside. If he had been partial to junk food, he would have picked up a few snackables here. Stepping delicately around the bodies, he sniffed the aroma rising in the air. It was like smoking a cigar after a meal, he inhaled deeply.

As he walked, a little boy hugging a teddy bear ran into him, colliding against his legs. He swiftly clutched the boy's waist, preventing him from falling to the ground.

This scenario almost reminded him of dancing with Ciel.

He heard a familiar metallic noise which quickly brought him to release the boy. A long metallic rod with clippers attached narrowly missed where his left arm was just moments before.

What exactly was so appealing about his left arm?

He narrowed his eyes, red flashing angrily to the left to see the figure of one William T. Spears standing there, the lines of his stilted suit silhouetted by the light of a flickering fire, his glasses reflecting the light from the moon.

"I would prefer if you keep your hands off the surviving souls, Demon. They would fall under the jurisdiction of the Reapers. I do so hate an imbalanced inventory." His weapon stubbornly seperated the demon from the boy.

Sebastian tossed a disdainful look at the boy before turning to directly address the reaper, indicating with his body language his disregard for this particular soul.

"I have no interest in seeking out a meal for tonight."

It was a lie. And William knew it; his eyebrows knitted slightly. Feeling charitable from being well-fed, he pulled off a smirked as he continued

"I have had a sumptuous meal recently," he said, glancing his right hand across his taut abdomen to indicate he was full. His current form was still an attractive, lean body but reapers could sense auras as well. His was pulsing a dark, energetic black at the moment; signs that he had recently been feeding.

"I see you have. Thus, I would ask you to vacate this area for our convenience and yours. It would not do well to have an extra demon death on our inventory." William snapped back his scythe, adjusting his glasses with their sharp blades, continuously frowning down at the demonic intrusion.

Sebastian calculated the situation coldly. The area was still swarming with reapers as disease had become rampant from the lack of sanitation. Even a recently fed demon of his caliber would not be able to take on so many reapers without serious energy depletion.

"I shall bid you farewell for now, Reaper. For I have business elsewhere." Sebastian smirked, quickly taking into the cool night air on his wings and leaving the reaper behind.

It was then Sebastian realised why he had specifically returned to London. He could have argued that it was the currents of the wind that brought him back there. But in reality, it was he who had set this course from the beginning. He was a demon, but he had not lied to himself yet and he was not about to begin.

He found himself soaring towards the ruins of the Phantomhive manor. Nearly three years had passed since the forging of the Faustian contract, and the one defining moment when it all began would have to be when the manor had been on fire, like a sparkling diamond surrounded by the flames of a ruby rose. He made an elegant landing, stepping lightly on the stone steps that led to what once was the front entrance.

Stepping under the archways, he almost felt the splendour of the old manor again. He knew nothing would remain; so why had he returned?

"Sebby!" Amid a sudden flurry of flaming red hair and fabric, he knew why.


A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfic, I do hope you enjoy it. Your reviews will be much appreciated. *bows*

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Kuroshitsuji characters.