━━ [ ACT ONE ]
Jack the Ripper had claimed the life of Marian Jane Murray, Mina's beloved sister. Plagued by her memories of witnessing such a horrific murder, Mina is introduced to a world of demons, soul reapers, and creatures of nightmares — all monitored by a young boy, Earl Ciel Phantomhive, and his ever loyal butler, Sebastian Michaelis. Frightened, Mina is torn between her sense of duty toward the Earl and her religious beliefs as a devout Catholic. "Please Lord, forgive me for my discretions."
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𝒐. | PRELUDE
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"As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever."
— Rabindranath Tagore
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My Dearest Jonathan,
I write to you in deepest sorrow. Mary is dead, a victim to none other than Jack the Ripper. I will spare you of the horrific details I had laid witness to that frightful night. Just know that I am safe and unharmed. I was saved by an Earl and his butler whom so happened to be near at the time of the incident. If not for their intervention, I would not be here writing to you, and I shudder at the thought.
Jonathan, in your last letter you wrote to me stating that your stay in Transylvania has been extended due to unforeseen circumstances. Since I do not know exactly when you will be coming home back to me, I have to tell you that I have made a rather rash decision without first consulting you—please accept my apologies! I have promised my loyalty and servitude to the Earl. I am indebted to him. Not only did he save my life, he also graciously arranged and paid for Mary's funeral since I did not have the funds to do so on my own.
The Earl has offered me the position of housekeeper at his household. Once again, I hope you can forgive me, my dearest Jonathan, but I must repay the Earl for all he has done for me without first knowing my name. Once you return I implore that you do not try to change my mind, because as you know 'a Murray always pays their debts.' and I am not yet Mrs. Harker.
I apologize about the shortness of my letter, my mind has not fully gotten over Mary's death. In time I will recover, I am sure. Hopefully I will be well again before you return. I do not want you to see me this way. I am afraid that if you saw me at my lowest, you would not want to marry me any more. A silly thought, yes? I know your heart is true, as is mine.
I eagerly await your response, and for your safe passage home. I miss you, and wish you are in well spirits.
Forever Yours,
Mina
His hold on the letter tightened, crinkling the centre of the cheap parchment and thus soiling his beloved's scratchy penmanship. Anger bubbled within his belly, boiling until he felt the tips of his elongated canines pierce the flesh of his bottom lip when he clenched his jaw in his vexation. Who would dare attempt to hurt his precious angel? Despite her assurances about her safety and physical wellness, her delicate life was still at risk for danger; she was like a fragile porcelain doll without him to protect her.
Mina, her name echoed in his thoughts. Different name, same delectable appearance: same heart shaped face, same naturally rosy heavy lower lip, and same long dark tresses that greatly contrasted her fair skin; the only thing he had yet to see were her eyes, but he was sure that they were the same mesmerizing deep cerulean that he remembered them to be.
Her letters were what kept him sane, each lovingly crafted and filled with interesting tidbits so that the newest arrival was never the same as the last. Luckily she kept him up to date on London's current news, without her unintentional help he would have had a more difficult time blending in once he sailed overseas.
Releasing a loud growl of dissatisfaction, he swiftly spun on his heels to face the delivery entrance that resided at the back of his castle. "CAN YOU GO ANY FASTER!?" he bellowed at the working men loading large crates into the backs of various carriages. "Each second you waste keeps me longer from my heart's true desire, and I must leave immediately!" His commanding voice boomed and echoed throughout the barren castle, prompting the movers to speed up their steps. Despite the hurried hustle he huffed, still discontent. Mortals. With a scoff he sharply turned, quickly ambling down a series of corridors.
The steady click of his shoes replaced the hustle and bustle of the movers, and the silence soothed his irritation. The further he traveled from the back entrance of his castle the darker and more bleak the hallways seemed to become. Soon he was engulfed within shadows, thin beams of light filtering through old cracks and small gaps from the diminishing walls, which he nimbly avoided with practiced skill. While the sun's natural light felt warm and comforting to most, for him they felt like the sting of a thousand needles repeatedly prodding at any exposed skin, surely to remind him that the heavens above were greatly displeased with his change. He had long since grown used to the pain, learned to ignore it, but if sunlight could be avoided he would gladly take the chance for a moments peace.
He turned a corner, spotting three figures crowding a doorway. He sighed, mildly bothered, and delicately clapped his right hand against his left palm to gather their attention. "How many times have I warned you three about wandering the corridors before sundown? You could risk being seen." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, disgruntled.
Three young women scurried away from the door, each bearing the expression of guilty children being caught during a naughty act. Their hands were demurely placed behind their backs and their heads dipped low to hide their shamed faces. The women were stunningly beautiful in almost the exact same way: supple alabaster skin, long silky hair (one spun of gold, another of bronze, the last of reddish chestnut), and hourglass figures with ample bosoms on display with low cut dresses and tightly pulled corsets.
"But we're hungry now," the golden haired woman pitifully whined, childishly stomping their dainty foot.
"Yes, yes, please, Master. We don't feel much like hunting tonight," complained the brunette, bearing what she most likely thought was an 'alluring' pout.
"We gave him plenty of time to recover from our last feeding," said the bronze haired idiot through a proud smile. "We'll leave him alive, Master, promise!"
The women's improper behaviour and constant usage of contractions made him visibly cringe. No matter how physically beautiful they were, as always, he eventually grew bored and annoyed with each passing fancy in some form or another. Mainly for the fact that neither of them could ever compare to his true love, his darling and dearest Lauriel (who was now rebirthed as Mina). With Mina found, he wanted to be done with these harlots, to dispose of their shameless bodies in the most gruesome ways he could think of, but he had other uses for them once he crossed the seas to England. His beloved would need handmaidens to tend to her every need, just like any queen deserved. Should any of them refuse, he would use them as an example for going against his wishes.
"Not tonight," he declared. "I need to speak with him—alone." The girls took the hint, though they still pouted and muttered their complaints as they retreated into the shadows. Once they were out of sight, he straightened his posture and politely knocked on the chamber door.
"Co-" a hoarse cough disrupted the greeting, but he remained uncaring for the ill man that was behind the closed door since he was a hindrance in his plans to reunite with his dear heart. "Come in!" came the clear greeting.
Before he entered the room he made sure to wear a false frown of concern. "How are you feeling tonight, Mister Harker? Better, I hope."
The room was large, dusty and had a draft, but what else would you expect from a castle that was built in the 1400s? Even so, it was not like either of his mistresses would do any cleaning. They considered themselves 'above' common grunt work. Plus, Jonathan Harker was the first guest he had entertained in his home in over a century, he had lost the urge to socialize and mingle after the tragic loss of his beloved Lauriel.
A young man was laid on a four poster bed, sickly and pale, although some colour was returning to his hollow cheeks. Dark brown hair hung stringy and loose over sunken hazel eyes, and his complexion was waxy, slick with the sweat of fever. When Jonathan had arrived at the castle the young man stood strong and proud, with a lean build and a humble grin, but now he appeared withered and scrawny, nothing but bones, a frail heartbeat, and labored breath. He could make a quick recovery if the whores would stop molesting and feeding off of him whilst the poor man was sleeping. However, the master of the castle did nothing to stop his mistresses from their 'play time', not since he discovered who the young legal man was engaged to be married to.
"As a matter of fact I am, thank you for asking." Jonathan smiled, though it was feeble. Traces of his humble kindness still shined through his fatigued eyes, yet the Master felt no remorse for the plans he had in store for the young Jonathan Harker. He was the only obstacle in his way of regaining his lost love.
The Master untucked the envelope containing Mina's letter from the inner pocket of his emerald green silk vest, making sure to have the broken seal facing toward him. "You received another letter from Miss Murray. I am sure this will help to lift your spirits."
The look of joy that overtook Jonathon's face made the Master of the castle want to twist and snap the young man's neck, ripping his head clean from his shoulders. Jonathon's health seemed to increase ten fold merely at the sound of his beloved's name. The lawman even summoned up the strength (albeit a shaky one) to sit up straight and eagerly hold out his hand for the letter. "Yes, you are right. Hearing from Mina never fails to soothe me," he agreed.
The Master kept a false smile of warmth on his mouth. "Mister Harker, please, you are still gravely ill. Shall I read it to you?"
"I think I will be fine, thanks," the young man politely denied, his hand still outstretched.
The Master frowned, and with a shake of his head he let out a soft noise of disapproval. "I insist, Mister Harker. I do only have your best intentions in mind. As the doctor advised, you must not put too much strain on your body." Of course the doctor was a fake whom he hired to give Jonathon a false sense of security and comfort, but the young man in question did not need to know of his impending doom. Why not let him die in peace? Let him think that he had a devoted betrothed anxiously awaiting his return, along with a promising career as a representative to one of the most wealthiest men in the world?
"I..." A flash of doubt flashed across Jonathan's expression. The edges of his thin lips turned down and his eyes narrowed with contemplation. He let his arm drop back down to his side on the bed. "I suppose you are right."
The Master's false smile returned. Normally he would have given Jonathan his letters without complaint, but he had grown more and more excited with each coming letter from his beloved that he had hastily ripped open her latest message instead of waiting to steal it at night while Jonathan was asleep. His days of idly standing by were nearly over. He slid this pointer finger underneath the envelope sealing flap, pretending to break the seal for the first time with a swift swipe of his finger. Carefully, he plucked the folded parchment with such delicacy. While he had already read Mina's passive-aggressive words, he still wanted to keep and cherish all of her letters she had written to Jonathan. Unfolding the parchment, he started to read aloud his beloved's latest message to a weak man that was undeserving of her.
At the mention of Mary's death Jonathan sharply sat erect, panic striking his features. "I must return to her! Mary was all the family she had left. She must be devastated!" he exclaimed, scrambling to remove his limbs that had become entangled within his bed sheets. Once freed, Jonathan attempted to stand, but his valiant efforts to rush to Mina's aid appeared to be too much for his frail body; he quickly fell back onto the bed just as swift as he had stood up, face pale and skin coated in a sheen of sweat.
The Master was unimpressed at the sight, it was further testament that Jonathan was not worthy of his beloved. If their positions were reversed, he would have never left Mina to begin with. "Don't be hasty, Mister Harker. You are still very ill," he attempted to cajole.
"She… Mina… I have to go to her," Jonathan panted, his face set with grim determination. His jaw and hands clenched, Jonathan made another futile attempt to stand on his own two feet. He failed another three times before the master of the castle decided to speak up.
"And you shall, Mister Harker, I assure you. Who am I to keep a man from going to his love in her time of need? I will make the preparations for the both of us to leave for England as soon as possible."
Jonathan's brow furrowed. He turned to gaze up questionably at the Master. "The both of us?" he inquired.
Facade still in place, the Master continued with the next step in his plan to reunite with his true love. Gallantly, he proclaimed: "I cannot let you go on this journey alone, Mister Harker; not while you are in your current condition—it would be ungentlemanly of me. I will assist you the best way I can by financially procuring the travel necessities. We will simply rush my transfer to England, and after you are reunited with your darling fiancé, you will continue to help manage the transfer of my estate."
"Oh, thank you, Count Dracula! Thank you!" Jonathan cried out with glee, a wide, genuine smile stretching across his face.
At the sound of one of his assumed names the Count feigned another smile. "It is the least I can do for all that you have done for me, Mister Harker. However, perhaps you should write a letter to Miss Murray in return? Warn her of your illness–"
"Oh, I cannot." Jonathan adamantly denied, frantically shaking his head with denial. "Not with all she has been through. I will not add to her worries, I refuse it!"
"And what would she do if she saw you in this sickly state?" the Count attempted to persuade with his false good intentions. He needed for Jonathan to inform Mina of his sickness. While he promised to return Jonathan to Mina, he failed to mention that he planned on doing so with Jonathan in a coffin.
Jonathan seemed to deflate, his shoulders slumped and his eyes drooped with exhaustion. "Perhaps you are right. She would never forgive me for concealing the truth from her." He heavily exhaled, chest rising and falling. "You are a very kind man, Count Dracula. I am fortunate to have met you."
The Count smiled, this time with true sincerity. Everything was going as he planned. "Please, call me Vladimir, Mister Harker. You and I have become friends, have we not?" he inquired with an 'innocent' head tilt.
Jonathan nodded, an easy going smile crookedly curving his lips. "And you may call me Jonathan. I insist upon it."
Vladimir held back a sinister grin. "I think it was fate which brought us together... Jonathan," he eloquently replied.
Vladimir's gaze shifted to the small and simple picture frame which held a black and white photo of a young woman in her late teens or early twenties. Her eyes were closed, but her smile was infectious. It was obvious that the picture wasn't taken professionally, but rather by Jonathan himself, most likely before he left London. Long, straight dark hair hung lose at her sides, framing a heart shaped face with round cheekbones, a pert nose, and a slender figure; she wore a simple light coloured gown with a dark lining and no corset. She looked comfortable and happy. Vladimir could not and would never forget such a face.
My beloved Lauriel, you have come back to me. Soon we shall be reunited, and the world will bow to our feet and fear our strength. A new age will be upon us. It is time for the shadows to rise.
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.disclaimer. I do not own the beautiful brilliance that is Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji nor Bram Stoker's Dracula; never in my wildest dreams could my imagination conjure up someone like Sebastian, but I'm sure glad as hell Yana Toboso did. This is a work of fanfiction, created by an overimagnative admirer seeking to escape her otherwise dull reality. A rewrite of the utter mess that was my hormonal writing during my high school days.
.warning. This story will contain what is called 'shotacon' as Ciel is a love interest of Mina's. Although, historically speaking, back in the victorian era age really wasn't an issue when it came to relationships, all that mattered was elevating your familial status. If you are uncomfortable with reading about a relationship between Ciel and Mina then I suggest you stop reading from this point forward. Also, this story will contain a polyamorous relationship with Ciel, Sebastian, and Mina as contributing partners; meaning Ciel is attracted to Sebastian, and vice versa; Sebastian is attracted to Mina, and vice versa... you get the point. They're a mess and all need each other in order to feel sane. Well, more like Ciel and Mina need each other and Sebastian, because let's face it Sebastian is one of the few characters in any fandom that actually has his shit together—the manipulative fucker. God, I love him. Again, if may-december romances makes you uncomfortable, do not read any further.
Reviews, comments, and criticism are always welcomed; flames—tolerated.