Black Butler:
The Taking of Grell Sutcliffe
By Axel Ingleson

Disclaimer: Black Butler and its characters do not belong to me. Nor am I making any money from this fanfic.

-Chapter 01-

The angels followed the Reaper stealthily as they'd done for the past several days. Their leader scowled at the Reaper. He had watched as the redhead's hips swayed in a rather feminine manner. Watched as his hair blew, dramatically, in the wind as he ran, almost playfully, after the souls he had been sent to reap.

"He's teasing me," he told his fellows who stood by nodded "He knows we're here and he's deliberately baiting me. Him, a lowly Reaper. How dare he! He'll pay dearly for that! Let's take him."

The other angels knew what their leader had planned was wrong, but they dared not defy him. So they followed him to where the red-haired Reaper stood watching his prey.

Grell was about to claim his latest soul when a hand wearing a steel gauntlet covered his mouth. Struggling to look up, he saw a quintet of what he realized were fallen angels surrounding him.

"Don't struggle, my dear," their leader said as the other four forced Grell down onto the cold pavement. "You'll only make it worse for yourself."

"Sebas-chan!" Grell cried out in anguish as his clothes were torn from his body. "Forgive me!"

He struggled to reach his scythe as the remaining few articles of his clothing were deftly plucked from his trembling body. Humiliation and rage fought for control of him, as his fingers came into contact with the chainsaw. One of the angels saw Grell's scythe and kicked it away. As it spun out of reach, the fire left Grell's eyes and he went limp in the other three angels' grip as he waited for their leader to defile him.
He felt a strong arm being wrapped around his waist, holding him in place while other hands held his arms behind his back and someone grabbed his hair. He bared his razor sharp teeth, reminding them that there was one thing he didn't have to endure.

"I don't need your sweet mouth," the leader whispered as he pressed against Grell's opening. "I've got everything I need for my pleasure right here!"

Saying this, the angel thrust into Grell, eliciting a scream of physical and emotional agony.

"Stop!" Grell pleaded.

"But, my dear Grell," his rapist said, in a tone of mock-tenderness, "we've only just begun."

The other angels continued to hold Grell as their leader thrust brutally into him, ignoring his pleas and struggles until Grell stopped moving and his lips fell silent. Grell 's head was bent in shame and he silently prayed after each thrust that the next one would kill him.

"Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?" the angel asked, sadistically.

Grell did not reply. All of his normal flippant remarks had been raped out of him by the fallen angel who was now buried to the hilt inside him, crying out in triumph as the last shreds of Grell's pride were torn away.

When Grell was finally alone, he gathered up his ruined clothing and clutched it in front of him like a security blanket or teddy bear. Tears of shame ran from his eyes as he lie there, praying that nobody ever found him.

Sebastian and Ciel were riding in the area in their carriage when Sebastian held up a hand.

"Listen," he said.

"What is it?" Ciel asked. "I don't hear anything."

"I do," Sebastian insisted.

"Fine," Ciel sighed. "Investigate. But be back in an hour."

"Yes, my lord."

Sebastian leapt from the still-moving carriage and headed back to the alley they had passed when he'd heard the noise. Stepping into the alley, he saw Grell lying there, clutching his torn garments and sobbing brokenly.

"Grell?"

"Go away," Grell sobbed, "don't look at me."

Sebastian picked Grell up. The usual disgust he felt toward the Reaper wasn't there. Grell looked too pitiful in his current state, and Sebastian's mind was too busy wondering who would be powerful enough to overcome him so thoroughly.
"Don't touch me," Grell whimpered. "Please, don't dirty yourself by touching me."

Sebastian ignored Grell's protests and picked him up anyway. He ignored the muttering of onlookers as he carried the wounded Reaper down the sidewalk until he came to the Undertaker's shop. For a moment he considered passing by and finding a doctor. But then he realized that Grim would have a better understanding of how to care for a Reaper who had been so cruelly defiled.

"No," Grell sobbed, "Don't bring me in there. I can't be seen by someone I know. Not like this."

"Hush," Sebastian said, quietly. "He's the closest person who can take proper care of you."

"I'm so ashamed," Grell wailed, burying his face in Sebastian's chest as the latter carried him into the shop.