It feels like emptiness, being starved of a soul for so long. A hollow feeling, lacking the mournfulness of loss. It's settled in the pit of his stomach and it growls upon being acknowledged for the first time in years.

"Will it hurt?"

"Yes, a little," Hunger comes over him in waves now. This soul - this dark, evil, beautiful soul - which he has tempered to the most delicious degree, is his. "I'll keep it as gentle as possible…"

"Don't." He stills. Would he beg for his life? He feels his fangs sliding out and disgust sear his veins. Would he disappoint him once more?

"Make it as painful as you can. Carve the pain of my life into my soul."

Shock lances through him. Of course. Ciel Phantomhive truly is one of a kind. It would not be his first soul, and far from his last, but the young master's soul would surely be the best, the most savory.

He glides his bare fingertips along the pale jawline. His eyes are resigned, soft in a rare lapse of defiance. Ciel is ready. He is done with this world.

"Then," he says, gliding his hands through that silky hair and tilting his face up towards his. "Young master." My master. You wretched, broken boy I've come to love.

He presses his lips to his.

Will it hurt?

Yes, it will hurt.

Oh god, will it hurt.

He breathes, drinking in that elixir air that sates his demon hunger, years and years of waiting and loving, and whistles through his lungs.

At last. At last.

...

It feels like emptiness, losing his soul after so long. A hollow feeling, lacking the mournfulness of loss. It resonates deep in his chest, giving way to an unwavering growl in a last moment of defiance.

The Phantomhive Earl, King of the Victorian Underworld, is dead. At least he took his revenge, he thinks, and his enemies are razed to the bone by the same fires that destroyed all he loved. It hurt to love. He still feels it—the sting of his heart where life once dwelled.

But the life is being sucked out of him. By a demon. By his butler. Carving the pain of life into his soul.

And it hurts.

Oh god, it hurts.

He exhales a breath, and the last of his life escapes him in a rattling, throaty gasp that rakes his lungs and echoes through his lips.

At last. At last.


A/N: By far the most depressing yet satisfying end to an anime. There are already so many fics dedicated to this final scene, and I'm not sure my version is in any way different or unique, but I had to get it off my chest. I hope you enjoyed (well not enjoyed, but you get what I mean) and reviews are appreciated.