Author's foreword: This is going to be a five part/chapter series and comes to you from a request/prompt I received from two Anon. Its 'M' rating is well earned (in my humble opinion) and as a general disclaimer it will feature several things that are present and underpin the original Kuroshitsuji source material. For example: occultism, sexual content, and abuse.
Read and review, if you please, and I hope you enjoy one of my darker stories. -VV
Once a Lamb
Chapter 1: Captured
The hood smelt like whatever used to occupy it, rotten potatoes, beets, or some other kind of earthy vegetable…
But whatever it was, it stung Ciel's nostrils with an acrid odour on his every breath.
The rough burlap was coarse and abrasive against his cheek. And from where his head rested on the floor the bag was stuck between his flesh and the motion of the carriage had rubbed him raw.
Weakly he would attempt to alleviate the 'rug-burn' from the bag by trying to raise his head.
Each time he'd only receive a moment of reprieve before one of his captors brought their foot down against his temple and pressed him back against the floor.
His hands felt tight and sore from struggling and from the awkward way that he had been laying. The constant motion didn't help either.
The carriage he was in rumbled and rattled, seeming to find every bump in the decrepit road that they must have been on.
This constant noise wouldn't allow him to find solace in sleep. Even though his head swam from the abduction, and his body was rigid with exhaustion, there was no way he could lose consciousness.
He was far too afraid for that, and there had been far too much activity for that.
The panic came in waves.
As the chemicals in Ciel's brain would go through various cycles of dissipating, building, and then releasing again, he'd experience a terrifying collection of emotions. And as each wave would rise inside his chest he'd become more stricken and his resolve would weaken.
'These scum…' he began thinking.
'I… I've got to try and focus… what- no, where did they come from?'
As he tried to line up and make sense of the sequence of events which had happened so far he'd quickly stumble and fail in ordering them.
He'd been struck several times during and since the actual abduction, so much so that his memories were hazy at best and fantastical at worst.
The failure to have defended himself, the failure of Sebastian to intervene… Everything that had happened, it all made him want to scream in frustration, but he'd quickly learned from his previous verbal protests that his captors would have nothing to do with it.
Unlike the mafia goons who had abducted him once before these people seemed like complete professionals.
They said nothing to him, save for simple orders, and they maintained complete silence among one another too.
Eventually his tongue and his ego got the better of him and he mouthed off at them once too many times.
For this he had been repaid with a swift kick to his abdomen, winding him, and then the bag-hood was taken off so that a cloth gag could be tightly tied around his head and stuffed into his mouth.
Unlike the burlap bag the cloth gag was thankfully odourless, and had no discernible taste other than that of laundered material.
He tried to get any kind of glimpse of where they might be going but the carriage windows had been covered over by the cabin's draw-string curtains.
'Even if they were open…' Ciel thought, 'It'd be past sundown by now…'
He shuddered as he laid still and listened to the rumbling and rolling of the wheels below.
A noise came into the cabin and at first he didn't know wherefrom.
It was low and steadily climbed in pitch.
As his chest heaved and his eyes swelled with warm wetness he realised; it was him.
Quiet sobs were escaping his mouth involuntarily; and try as he might to bite down on the gag and mute himself he just couldn't.
His chest heaved under his loosened, pulled, and dishevelled clothing and his mind raced with maddened thoughts as he attempted to keep himself straight.
'Shut up, you child!' he tried telling himself, 'J-just stop… th-they're going to hit you!'
He shook and shivered at the thought of being beaten again and his skin grew clammy as he nervously anticipated the coming strike.
His stomach was turning over and over as a maddening level of anxiety over took him.
His chest and body were contorting themselves horribly, what he felt in his heart was leagues and bounds greater in its terror than when he had to speak in front of people or ask Elizabeth to dance…
His mind, no longer attempting to uphold any sense of decency, began pleading with himself; 'I'll never complain about such trifles again… I swear it… Lizzy, I'm sorry…'
He began shivering as his eyes watered and his mouth tensed around the gag.
Beside his head he heard the shuffling and the motion of one of those who had abducted him and he expected a hit to come.
He tensed and tried curling himself while on the floor, futilely attempting to make himself as small a target as possible.
Rather than a blow he instead received something far more insulting and far greater a wound:
The captor began laughing.
It was a low chuckle, but it was far more insidious than Ciel was seemingly able to handle at the moment and it threw him deeper into his lapse of self-control.
He didn't begin wailing, but his sobs were certainly much louder than before.
The nervous shiver which began earlier increased in its reach across his entire body. At first it was just in his fingertips and toes; a tingling which made his skin and limbs move involuntarily.
Now, it had radiated up his limbs and his shoulders shook and twitched.
Sweat began to form on the back of his neck, making his hair and his collar stick to him uncomfortably. Sometimes the bumps of the road caused the bag to snag and pull at his hair from out of his collar.
The shivering was so unnerving to him that it was all he could do to keep it from consuming his body entirely and reducing him to a catatonic, rocking, state.
'Sebastian…' he began to plead.
'He's going to be coming for me, shortly, I know… Shortly…'
'I'm sure of it.'
'I'm sure of it…'
…
When the carriage finally stopped his body continued to rumble from the vibrations and he felt a malaise brought on by the abrupt lapse in motion.
He wanted to say 'where are we' but he wasn't going to give these bastards the satisfaction.
He had to maintain his resolve…
He had to steel himself, no matter what was to come.
The door to the carriage opened and he smelt fresh air, it was cool and poured into the tight cabin, washing over everything with a refreshing and disinterested touch.
Ciel didn't know if that made him feel worse or not, but here was the wind, and by extension the earth, completely oblivious and mute to anything which transpired upon her surface.
In the recesses of his mind a child-like part of him did persist, and in times of great duress it grew just that little bit louder; why doesn't the wind help me? Why can't it whisk a message to him? Why couldn't it blow these men down and carry me away…
A strong and gruff hand took hold of his shoulder and began to pull him into an upright position.
"Sit" it commanded.
The sensation of blood rushing out of his over-gorged skull made Ciel shoot his hands out for purchase at either side. Yet the bonds at his wrist rudely reminded him he had to stand on his own.
Outside the carriage a voice spoke up, barely able to contain its excitement, "Is that… is it…"
He giggled perversely and shuddered.
Behind him Ciel heard the door on the other side of the carriage open and the noise of one of his captors exiting.
Beside him the one who had sat him up took hold of the top of the bag and ripped it off with a single motion.
"Aye" The man confirmed with a smile.
It was dark, around dusk, yet the exterior of the cabin was illuminated by freestanding torches and lanterns.
Blinking his eyes open Ciel tried to focus on his surroundings but then met the gaze of the adoring man who had spoken and giggled.
His mouth was agape exposing a bright pink tongue and filed ivory teeth. His hair was long, slicked back with an uncomfortable amount of mousse, the colour of pepper. His face was clean shaven save for two long side-burns extending almost all the way to his jaw.
He leant in and brought his hands to his face as he squealed; "It's Ciel Phantomhive!"
He jumped with excitement and did a pirouette. He was wearing a plain morning coat and the tails of the black garment sailed as he spun.
Ciel wanted to snarl and his lip rose in revulsion.
Beside him his captor spoke and placed his hands on his back pushing him towards the open doorway.
"Come on, out now my lord."
Shooting his legs out of the cabin he felt for the step-rail of the carriage, but became distracted as he looked up at what was behind the smiling sharp-toothed man.
Seeing his expression and following his eyes the man cleared his throat and eagerly spoke,
"Welcome to Y-Gorthwr-du, lord Phantomhive!" he exclaimed, punctuating the sentence he bowed at the hip and spread his arms out widely.
'Gorthwr? We're… they brought me to Wales?'
Ciel shook his head as he shivered.
An ancient castle soared behind the man, its towers long since laid low, the parapets had worn down from years of sleet, and rain, and howling wind.
Yet its keep was covered in scaffolding and canvas tenting.
Evidentially restoration was being done on the old fortress…
'Think Ciel… think! A castle… in Wales, if it's not on her majesty's rolls of crown property it's either been made public land, or private! Who could afford such an expense as to restore a thirteenth century castle?'
The boy's mind began racing as he looked down and began dismounting the carriage.
The file-toothed man smiled perversely as he watched Ciel descend.
"Oh my lord…" he sighed, "My lord will be most pleased to finally meet you! As I have…"
Ciel made no effort to hide his disdain and disgust.
Yet they were interrupted. A great cry came out from the gatehouse and a man fell, tumbling off the battlement to his death.
The man beside Ciel tensed and audibly reacted nervously while the file-toothed man merely furrowed his brow and looked over lazily.
"Huh?"
Looking to the men from the carriage he waved them along, "Well! Go look!"
The two guards looked down at Ciel uneasily, "But the boy… shouldn't we?"
Groaning the man ran his fingers through his shining hair and exhaled wearily.
The men nodded and moved away from Ciel as they wordlessly complied.
Stepping forwards he pointed at the two large men and complained, "It's so hard to find good help, wouldn't you agree?"
Ciel's lip shook as he did his best to contain himself.
The man raised an eyebrow as he smiled and looked the young lord over, "Though I'm sure I don't need to bring that score up with you, do I?"
He laughed privately.
Behind the man a rope noiselessly fell down the side of the wall and Ciel's eyes widened as he looked up to see a figure begin descending.
The man spoke again but Ciel couldn't hear him, he was entranced by the appearance of another person in their midst.
'They must have thrown that guard over the parapet? Then… they're no friend to these men!'
Ciel was tired, and he was willing to fly with any fancy which had the appearance of holding water. The appearance of a stranger descending a rope off the side of a castle wall was just such a fancy.
The figure appeared gaunt, with long dirty hair and rough-spun clothes. Yet their size and spidery motion made it clear that they were a youth, at least fifteen or sixteen years of age.
Watching with wild eyes Ciel could barely hide his interest as the figure climbed down hand over hand until they reached the grassy ground.
The sharp-toothed man looked away from his men and noticed Ciel's gaze and lack of attention to his words this whole time.
"What could possibly-" he said as he turned to follow Ciel's eyes.
The figure leapt forwards in two bounds and struck the man with their leg in a high kick.
Ciel jumped backwards and hit his back against one of the carriages' wheels as the sharp-toothed man fell to the muddy path with a loud groan.
His would-be rescuer could now be seen properly in the nearby torchlight and Ciel's head shot back in surprise; it was a girl! Her face was filthy, covered in mud and grime.
Grimacing she delivered another kick with her bare feet before producing a small sharp stone from a pocket sewn into her tunic.
"Give me your hands!" she cried.
The sharp toothed man rolled from under her and cried to his men near the gate, "Leave the body you fools! She's escaped!"
Ciel complied with the wild girl's order and shoved his arms forwards.
Wrapping her long thin fingers around his right wrist she held him tightly as she sawed her sharpened stone through his rope bonds.
The men began running towards them when the bonds finally came free.
She threw her stone and it skillfully hit one of the men in the face, he cried and brought a massive hand to cover his 'wound'.
"Follow me!" she roared.
Ciel was so bewildered that he didn't know what else to do and when the girl took hold of his hand he struggled to keep up as she tore away from the path in a sprint.
In the gloomy light Ciel could see a great wood which had slowly grown up and around the grounds of the castle.
They slipped into the underbrush, panting and cracking twigs underfoot.
"W-who are you?!" Ciel finally panted out.
In the dark she shook her head as she drove them through the gnarled and gothic trees.
"Questions later save your breath! We need to get as far as we can before they 'loose the dogs!"
Ciel didn't feel at all comfortable with the girl speaking to him with such a tone, or with how she was nearly ripping his arm out of its socket.
But
She'd saved him.
And if they needed to get away from dogs then… well he couldn't really argue.
…
