In memoriam of Bill and all that he was.
~X~~~0~~~X~
Darkness of Souls
The demon rested on the ledge of the old building, observing the oblivious crowd below him. The lights of the city did not reach him, his dark essence repelling the brightness from his lone corner. The demon could remember a time long ago when the humans truly feared his kind, making both sacrifices and wards to protect themselves, using all manner of religion and tools to appease their dark tastes or shield themselves from their wrath.
Now, as the demon gazed indifferently at those below him, the humans showed no signs of fear or concern, prating mindlessly about this and that on their cell phones and paying no attention to the sins they committed. Cities like these practically let the Darkness run rampant, propriety being the only thing restraining its powerful grip on humanity.
Lust was embodied in the stripper clubs and local prostitutes, in the perverted hands grabbing the flesh of others and the roaming eyes that found themselves settling on scantily-clad chests, in the mutual passion behind closed doors and the one-sided passion in the back alleys and basements.
Greed showed its devious grin on the faces of the powerful rich and the lucky poor, in the minds of thieves and the eyes of hoarders, on the fronts of gaudy casinos and in the secure safes of the banks.
Envy ate at the hearts of the unnoticed and the untalented, the second-place winners and the fourth-rate losers, the ones who were constantly outdone and the ones who wished to outdo.
Wrath reared its ugly head in the form of angry shouting echoing down the streets and fighting in dark-lit alleys, of parents beating their children and husbands beating their wives, of knives slitting unsuspecting throats and bullets piercing uncomprehending minds.
Pride showed its contempt through the upturned noses of the upper class and the confidence radiating off of superior professionals, through the smirks of those who win and the sneers of those who refused to lose, through the scorn of those above others and the rioting of those below.
Sloth could be seen lounging in the minds of couch potatoes and sleepers-in, snoozing workers and tired housewives, lazy officials and bleary-eyed elite.
Gluttony wormed its way into t he stomachs of overweight connoisseurs and hungry adolescents, into the maws of pampered lap dogs and spoiled children, into the digestive tracks of those who are overfed and those who overeat.
And yet the foolish mortals still ran around in oblivion, dismissing the signs of their gods as coincidences or unrelated events and paying tribute to the beings of Hell. Even though the city was bathed in light, it only made the sin surrounding it that much more obvious. It was reflected in the security cameras of the numerous stores littering the streets, in the mirrors of the rich, the sneaky, and the lustful every morning, in the fake polite smiles of the upper society and the unnerving, blood-lusting grins of the underworld's scum.
To think that the demon was resting on the ledge of this city's only church.
Then again, the demon mused, there are some truly pious souls still walking these streets. His eyes rested on such a soul, asking for charity donations on a street corner two blocks over.
I shall have to deal with them later. After all, it wouldn't have been truly thorough to leave anyone untainted.
The demon looked away from the nauseating sight, returning his attention to the congregation of souls below him. His next meal was to be among them tonight, a soul that lived in a world of darkness and yet lived for the happiness of others. It shined with determination and beauty, though there was not one shred of innocence to be found, virgin or otherwise. It had been interesting enough to catch his attention, so he had observed the soul's movements, followed its tracks, learned its routines. In other words, he had been a true predator.
There was always darkness within a soul. It was highly unlikely that any human could live without being tainted by sin at some point in their lives. A human's taint was what gave it flavor, the spices of a good cut of meat. Every time a new sin was committed, a dash of this or that would attach itself to the soul, adding its own mildness or zest.
This demon, like all others, preferred a certain sort of dish. To him, the taste of innocence tainted by the darkness, sprinkled with the spices, but letting the meat itself, the soul's innocence, shine through to be the forefront flavor – that was the most delicious soul.
Unfortunately, such a soul was hard to come by. The demon had learned to be patient, to wait for his food, only lowering himself to the level of his more barbaric kin when he was close to starvation. His last decent meal had been over a hundred years ago, during Queen Victoria's reign in England.
Ciel Phantomhive's soul had been well worth the years-long wait. Besides, "Sebastian Michaelis" had been one of the better names he had been given during his long existence (even if it was the name of a dog).
Slitted red eyes focused on their target, following a familiar head in the crowd as it wove around and through the ignorant groups of people. The demon watched as the human slipped into a back alley behind the church. He knew that this person did this every week; running away from their friends and family to find the church's cellar entrance, sneaking into the building to help any number of runaways who were trying to escape this town.
Tonight, though, the police were waiting to apprehend the one helping these runaways. The only officer inside was corrupt to say the least and would most likely attempt to kill the "suspect" as soon as they walked inside. That was when the demon would make his appearance. Depending on the situation, he might simply consume the poor, unsuspecting soul then and there or offer that person a contract, if they were interesting enough.
The demon grinned knowingly, recalling a certain event from a hundred years ago. In the early second decade of the twentieth century anno domini (as detestable as that sounded), a black magic cult created a secret base in the basement of their leader's home, etching a large summoning circle into the concrete floor itself. After many years the cult disbanded and the now ex-leader, regretting his actions against God, wrote in his will for his home to be converted to a church after his death, setting aside all the necessary funds and plans ahead of time. His will was executed by the man's nephew before he left for Hollywood. The church prospered for a while before it fell victim to money problems and went bankrupt. It then became a safe haven for runaway children and a visiting site for a certain charitable soul.
Through all that time, no one had ever removed the summoning circle from the basement floor.
The demon let himself fade into the shadows of the church's rooftop, grinning to himself. His most coveted soul should be able to summon him easily from so close, even if they were shot and fatally wounded. All he had to do now was wait, a simple task if anything. After all, an entire lifetime of these mortals was but a fraction of his own. This last stretch of boredom that came with immortality had been a long one after his last master.
It would be interesting to have another.
~X~~~0~~~X~
Okay, so this is my dedication to my recently deceased friend, Bill. He was in his mid-90s when he died of old age. Not bad for him, gotta say.
Some explanations about the story:
Yes, the demon is Sebastian. Just thought I would put that here in case you didn't get the obvious not-really-a-hint that I dropped in the story.
"...(even if it was the name of a dog)." - For those of you who don't know, in chapter 62 of the manga, it is revealed that Ciel named Sebastian after his dog who died in the Phantomhive manor the same day his parents were killed.
"...would most likely attempt to kill the "suspect" as soon as they walked inside." - Alright, the reason I put quotations around the word "suspect" is because this cop is really corrupt. He is the kind of person who would rather kill the first person that walked in through the door and make it look like that person put up a struggle so that he doesn't have to do any more work that night rather than actually wait for a suspicious person to come in so he could shoot them. In other words, even if the first person to walk in was a little kid or an elderly man, he would've shot them to get off of night duty. Yeah, like I said - really corrupt.
"...the early second decade of the twentieth century anno domini (as detestable as that sounded)..." - Ok, so this line is referring to what time the whole backstory for the church started. It is the early 1920s as we know it. An interesting fact, A.D., or anno domini, means "the year of our lord", which is why it sounds so detestable to a demon like Sebastian.
Please tell me if there are any inconsistencies in the story line, since I was a little out of it when I was writing this. PM me if you like if you are confused about anything else in the story.
Enjoy and review! =)