~Running from the Devil~
Darkness… It seeped through the cracks and crevices, slowly overcoming all obstacles as the eternal clock clicked and chimed. It was true that everything began with light; glimmering and full of promise and hope. But eventually it would end in the shadows, as the the forever night fell and the sunlight faded. It was only a matter of time.
Time and trials; it always came down to the two. How much time you'd been given, and how you handled your years. It varied from soul to soul, but the process was the same. The scales slid and were weighed by the unknown. Tipped back and forth, they shifted and marked the mettle of each spirit. Back and forth, past, present and future. . . Then the weight dropped, taking life or giving it. And all the while, the unseen beings waited, hoping that perhaps one might slip through the cracks...
These unseen ones were the children of the dark, watching with indifferent eyes as the fates were cast. They observed humanity from the depths of obscurity, and waited for the call to rise from their slumber. They listened and waited until they were needed or wanted, and then they attacked swiftly, consuming their most willing and supple of prey. And when they were done their soulless bodies slinked back to the darkness from which they were born.
Currently, one such creature waited, suspended in the void between life and death. He was weightless as he let his subconscious wander through the plains of the mortal world. He was forever drawn to the misery the humans exuded. Even though he watched them constantly, the creature didn't feel empathy or heartache for the humans. He only experienced some mild intrigue, along with the constant pull to find his next contract. He lived for the souls he collected, and the rest was just white noise. A necessary hindrance to his purpose, though admittedly one he found humor in.
Since he had first been made a demon, millennia ago, the creature had been fascinated by the mortals. They were such emotional beings. So addicted to drama and theatrics, so vigorous in their day to day lives, so utterly delicious . . .
For an unknown amount of time, the demon continued his vigile. Formless, he shifted through the shadows of the human realm, enjoying their antics and progression. An age of mankind ended under his ancient gaze, and another began, before he finally received the call.
In the years he had rested, the demon had heard many calls of desire, but none had met with his particular tastes. So he hadn't bothered to answer. But now, as his focus snapped towards the sound, he found his interest piqued.
With supernatural senses, the demon honed in on the one who had awoken him with curiosity. Devoid of emotion, he regarded the scene without bias, waiting to see what would happen. . .
Patchouli and frankincense, so earthy and deep. . . and blood . . . The mismatched fragrances wafted about the room, mixing and cloying enough to choke. From the window blinds, a thin crack of sunlight filtered through though did little to light the room in question. Save for a cheap lamp and a solitary, flickering candle, no other light entered here.
It was quiet, unassuming. . . Until the screaming started.
It rose from the calm like a choir effect, and rang shrilly against the walls of the house. It was a guttural, frightened sound that was soon followed by a deeper voice, just as loud, spitting out obscenities. Then a loud smash resounded, accompanied by more screams and bared feet scrambling against a tiled floor.
The woman who screamed so desperately was the first to run into the dimly lit room. Her blonde hair fanned about her shaking shoulders as she sprinted towards the door. She scrambled with the three locks that held her in, cursing frantically as her fingers were overcome with tremors. Her cheek was already swollen from the hit she had taken, and her eyes were red with tears.
Not a second later, the man who had struck her was barreling into the room, his eyes gleaming with wicked delight and fury. He was behind the woman in several large steps, his hands coiling in her hair as he yanked her backward. She screamed again and thrashed, fighting to break free, but he held her fast. There was no getting away. Not this time.
As she fell to the floor, he followed, hitting her with a barrage of unrelenting fists. At first she tried to return the blows, but the man was far stronger and had soon worn her out. Again and again, his knuckles met her flesh with a sickening crunch, until her screams echoed into sobs and pleas. Her voice was broken as she begged him, and it only made him hit her more.
Smack… Smack…. Smack… Again... and again... and again…
Soon, she could only gurgle as her own blood began to choke her. Her blue eyes lost focus as she was consumed by the pain and the torment. She writhed and began to fade, and yet the man never yielded.
By now, the woman's voice had abandoned her, and she was horrifically mute. And yet the demon heard her with striking clarity.
With every punch or slap, the woman's soul cried out to be saved. Though her invitation wasn't aimed at anyone in particular, which was odd. Most humans called for someone specific in their last moments, be it God or something else, and yet this woman had no one definitive. Just the same plea over and over again.
The man finally stopped his assault, as the woman lay in a pool of her own blood. In the sudden quiet, her raspy breaths were all that could be heard. The monster of a man had done his job well, and now he fled his crime, knowing that soon she would be dead.
Once the house door slammed shut behind the man, the woman tried to move, but in the end she was unable. The telephone was on the nearby counter, but for all the good it did, it might have been miles away instead.
The demon regarded the woman's soul with eternal eyes before he made up his mind. Though in the end the final decision would be up to her.
Slowly he reached out with his own mind and answered her plea for help. His aura wafted everywhere and nowhere, sliding like silk around the battered woman. As the demon fully willed himself into the humble dwelling, the lamp shattered into jagged shards and the candle went out in a puff of smoke. All fell into darkness, while otherworldly black feathers began to fall and float with a mind of their own.
In the shadows, a pair of wine red eyes could be seen glowing, as they openly studied the dying woman. The luminosity of the gaze matched the power behind his presence. Inhuman and beautiful. . . Like the fantastical thing of a dream or long forgotten memory. Thus was the allure of his kind.
"Lisa Karnes~" The demon whispered her name lowly. His disembodied voice echoed far longer than it should have, as his sensual, accented register cascaded over the silence.
A sliver of Lisa's blue eyes could be seen from where her lids were swollen as she met his gaze. Her mouth tried to answer, but it was her mind that succeeded.
"You heard me. . . You came to . . .to help? ..."
"Indeed, my dear~ I am here to aid you." He paused to let her take in the information before adding, "But you mustn't mistake the situation, Miss Karnes. . . I am no angelic being sent to save your soul for the Almighty One." He chuckled, a demonic sound if ever there was one. "Quite the opposite, in fact."
The woman's mind was obviously struggling to stay coherent, but after a moment her reply came in way of a snarky retort.
"...No shit, Sherlock… The black feathers and red eyes gave you... away…."
The demon smiled, appreciating the boldness of the comment. Though he didn't linger on it. Her time was running out, and now was the moment to act.
"Do you know what I am offering you?"
"...A way out?"
"Yes. If that is what you desire."
"In exchange for-?" Lisa Karnes internal voice cut off as she choked and gasped for air. It seemed when her husband had beaten her, Lisa's beautiful face hadn't been the only part of her to pay the price. Her lungs and chest cavity had suffered great damage as well. She was fading faster than the demon would have liked. It became all too clear that there wouldn't be time to fully discuss a deal before she passed out. He would have to improvise.
"You are dying, Miss Karnes," he stated softly, his wine red eyes never faltering as they studied the mortal's swollen, broken face. "So you must make your decision now. . . Will you consign yourself to the ties of a demon contract? Offering your soul as payment for my services. Or will you allow yourself to die and face the final judgement?"
"...Live…." The single word was thought with such conviction that it made the demon smile. Even when she was limited in speech and thought, Miss Karnes wasn't one for flakiness. He appreciated that.
"Think carefully now," he warned. "Should you reject the faith even this once, the gates of paradise will forever be out of your reach."
Lisa stared at the demon with unblinking bloodshot blue eyes, before she shakily raised a hand towards the darkness. There was nothing solid to touch, save for the ethereal feathers, and yet she reached for him anyway. Her expression mixed with such distinct emotion that it gave the demon pause. Sorrow, despair, desperation. . . but something else too. Something he had not seen in a hundred years. . . not since his last master. . .
Resolute strength and fire. A will and purpose to survive Hell itself. . .
Her husband might have broken her body, but Lisa's mind was a different story entirely.
"I'll ask but once more." He would give her a final chance to refuse. She had earned that much. "Do you wish to form a contract with me?"
". . . Hell . . . Yes . . ."
The demon's eyes shone with satisfaction and mild amusement, as the black feathers began to form into a singular mass. The feathers shifted and hardened, pulsing with something akin to life, before they began to glow bright magenta. The wine colored eyes closed against the shadows, as the demon willed himself to take on a physical form. Within the space of a second, the darkness dissipated and the light returned in all it's muted glory. And in place of the shadows, a handsome, lithe figure stood.
Skin as pale and perfect as porcelain, hair darker and softer than a crow's wing, and a suit of impeccable taste and style. A man of nondescript age and maturity; a proper front for his purposes. All that remained of his true form were the oddly hued eyes, forever mellow and wine red. They focused on Lisa once more- forever alert and attentive.
The last thing Lisa Karnes saw before she blacked out, was the handsome figure as he bent down to pick her up in his strong arms. She witnessed his obvious gratification at her decision, before she was lost to her pain. But the demon could have sworn he saw hope light her eyes before they rolled up into her head and closed. . . Perhaps he had imagined it. Or perhaps she would prove to be different and not come to regret her choice. Only time would tell.
The dark being cradled his newest Mistress gently to his chest, before he moved to action. In seconds, he had kicked the door down and was sprinting out into the evening. He moved faster than any vehicle or airplane, and denied the sight of the humans he passed.
Lisa Karnes had made her decision, now it was up to him to make sure she lived long enough to gain from it. . .
She screamed, blood curdling sounds of agony, and thrashed as she was smothered on all sides. She was suffocating! It was enough to overwhelm her, enough to kill her all over again. . . Until the hands saved her.
In the abyss they held her as she sobbed, writing patterns against her mottled flesh with feather light fingers. They comforted and soothed, and were always there when she needed them most. . .
They would always anchor her to life, before she drifted back into nothingness. . . And she grew to love them as time melded against itself and she drifted away. . . .
…
Lisa gasped violently as she awoke in a haze of dread and sweat. The woman tried to sit up, but her body didn't move at her command. And when she tried to open her eyes, her vision remained cloudy and dark. Without the ability to move or see, the woman began to panic, unable to fathom where she was or why she was so restricted.
But slowly, ever so slowly, memories clawed at her conscious, and then the angry tears began to fall. But even with her tears, her eyesight did not return.
She had died! Her bastard of a husband had finally beaten her to death- just as she'd feared he would!
. . . But surely the afterlife couldn't offer so much pain and confusion? Where was her bright light and otherworldly happily ever after? . . . Unless she'd somehow landed her butt in Hell? Which would explain why she felt like she'd been slammed by a semi-truck in the chest. . . Perhaps it was all a punishment of some sort? For her shortcomings and failures in life? Or maybe this weight on her chest was the vast nothingness of death itself. Perhaps there was nothing but longing and regret left for her. It all came down to shame and wistfulness, morphed into the form of flashbacks: her husband's violence and her heartbroken years of torment at his hands and actions.
An uncontrollable sob broke from the woman's lips then, as she remembered all the abuse she'd lived through. She had wanted to break free for so long, and yet she had stayed. Fear and an abused mentality had kept her in check, and yet now, she wished that she'd been brave enough to run.
My world is truly upside down, the woman thought as more pained tears came. Only for me would running away have been considered bravery. He fucked me up more than I thought. . .
For a moment, Lisa was lost to her anguish, both of body and soul, before her fists clenched.
No. Lisa wouldn't let the past defeat her. . . She'd already lost enough to the bastard, she wouldn't let him rule her death too. Not as long as she was sane enough to decide. Screw him and all he had molded her to be! Screw his beatings and his manipulative, twisted mind! SCREW IT ALL!
"I'd sooner die again then give him the satisfaction of seeing me like this. . . of knowing he made me cry. Hell! I should go haunt him, just for the sake of it! Teach his imbecilic ass what mind games really are!"
The thought was enough to make her laugh; a dark, gasping sound that set her lungs on fire. She coughed violently as air that felt like acid, scorched her throat and tongue. She could almost taste the flames, and yet she could not stop laughing.
"Milady, please. You must take care, or you shall do yourself a mischief." The voice interrupted her manic laughter, cutting her short with the stern reprimand.
"W-Who's there?" Lisa croaked, even as her full memory came flooding back.
Wait. . .
Lisa remembered now. She wasn't actually dead. . . No, she had been dying, that much was certain. But then the red eyes had appeared and she been offered a way out. She had agreed to a contract of some sort and it had all gone dark. . .
Lisa had made a deal with the devil. . . Such poetic irony wasn't lost on the woman as she fought more laughter. Such a development suited her, now that she thought of it. . .
"It is only me, milady," came the calm reply. "We have yet to be properly introduced, seeing as your illness has prohibited intimate conversation. But I had hoped we could remedy that when you are feeling more yourself."
He had an undeniably British accent, and formed his phrases with care, Lisa noticed. Odd, for a demon, and yet somehow it suited him perfectly. Posh and British; there were definitely worse things.
"Demon. . ." Lisa fought to breathe past her protesting lungs. "I didn't imagine you? You're real?"
"Very real, milady." She could hear the amusement in his voice. Then a gentle hand reached for her arm.
The hands. . . The gentle grip that had reached her in her dreams. . . And yet, Lisa still cringed away from the contact. It was more from instinct than fear, but the demon didn't seem offended by her actions. Instead he hushed her and continued with his task.
"Miss Karnes," he sighed. "You must hold still. I cannot adjust your IV if you squirm so. It's for-"
"Don't call me that." she spat hoarsely, though she stopped struggling against his grip on her arm. Being a trained RN herself, the woman understood what he was trying to do. And her knowledge was comforting enough to stop her movement.
The demon set up her IV masterfully, and she could hear the curiosity in his tone as he spoke again.
"Such hostility to a simple name. Why does Karnes irk milady so?" He paused to consider before it clicked. "Oh, I see. It's your married surname. The name of the one who did this to you. . . Yes, I can see why you wouldn't wish to be called such a title. Pardon my ignorance. I shan't use it again."
Lisa felt a new pinch as he inserted a fresh IV drip, and felt appreciation well in her. He seemed to understand her reasoning without her having to say a word. It was a relief to be honest. Not having to explain her feelings and thoughts aloud. To have someone understand her abuse and state of mind without her having to spell it out. She didn't think she could have explained her past if she'd tried. It was too dark and convoluted.
"Is there another surname you'd prefer me to use? Or will Lisa suffice?" the demon asked, interrupting her thoughts, as he finished connecting her IV. The woman almost moaned as blessed pain medication began to flow through her aching body.
Though Lisa still couldn't see, she could feel his eyes on her, as he waited for an answer. She thought for a moment before saying simply. "Lisa is fine. But if you have to have a surname. . . it's Dean."
"Dean? Can I assume it's Madame's maiden name?"
"Yes. . . And it's my preference."
"Then I shall oblige. Mistress Lisa Dean~" He experimented with her name before a smile rose to his tone. "I must confess it suits milady to a tee."
Lisa endured butterflies rising in her stomach, before utter confusion clouded her senses. It had been years since she'd felt anything akin to attraction. . .and yet she did now.
'What the actual Hell?'
Quickly, she changed the subject.
"...Why can't I see anything, demon? Did he blind me while he was beating the shit outta me? Or is it something else?"
"No, you are not blind." He answered immediately. "But your eyes suffered greatly when you were attacked. They've been swollen shut for quite some time, and I took the liberty of keeping them wrapped so they could stay clean while they healed. But if my lady is up to it, I can remove the linen?"
"Please," she agreed. "Being in the dark is driving me crazy."
"As my Mistress commands."
Once again the hands returned, though this time they brushed against Lisa's face instead of her arm. The demon's skin was warm against her own chilled flesh, as he began to unwrap her eye-bandage. His efforts were meticulous and soon enough he pulled the gauze and dressings away.
Lisa's eyes stayed closed for a time, as she tried to gather her courage. She counted to 10 before she slowly let her eyelids rise. As the first stream of light hit her irises, she gasped and slammed them shut again. It was as if someone had shone a high end flashlight directly into her eye. Lisa knew this reaction was normal, considering her orbs had been encased in darkness for who knew how long. But it still wasn't easy. So after a moment taken to recover, she tried again.
Slowly, bit by bit, she let the light shine through her eyes and eventually her surroundings began to come into focus. And in that moment, Lisa felt as though a weight had been lifted from her. She wasn't blind and she hadn't died, though the particulars were still a mystery to her. It was more of a happy ending than she had believed she'd get. Though there were still too many questions bouncing around her wearied mind for her to completely relax. She would have to come to terms with her new situation quickly if she hoped to find any peace of mind. . .
The blinding haze in her tired eyes soon faded into mild afternoon sunlight. As she looked around, she was surprised to find herself in what appeared to be a loft apartment.
It was a large apartment space, with high ceilings and white washed walls. There was very little in way of furniture or decoration, save for the bed she currently reclined in, and a scattering of medical equipment. To her far left, an operating table rested with a tray of tools and machines. And against the opposite wall, a bookcase was filled with medicines and ready-made IV bags. At a glance, Lisa realized they were the excellent quality of supplies that surgeons and high end hospitals would carry. . . How the demon had managed to procure such state of the art equipment and medicine, was anyone's guess.
'Well, he is a demon. I guess he could get his hands on anything he wanted. . .' Lisa thought, before her weary blue gaze landed on the figure who stood beside her bed, as still as a statute. Now, for the first time, the woman took in all the details of the demon's appearance. As she openly stared, she sized him up with curiosity burning in her resilient gaze.
He was gorgeous. There was no doubt about that.
Normally such a word would be an overstatement, but in his case it was obviously an understatement. He looked human enough- a man in his late twenties or early thirties- but his intelligence and poise was undeniably attractive and mature. Added with the smart suit and tie and flowing British accent and speech, Lisa had to applaud him. He knew what he was doing. The devil really did come in pleasing shapes and forms. . .
Finally after he'd given her some time to appraise him, the demon lifted a perfect eyebrow with amusement. It was then that Lisa realized he'd been studying her, while she had been eyeing him.
"Do you like what you see, Mistress mine? Or should I change my appearance to something more customized to your specific tastes?"
"You can change your shape that easily?" The question came before she could think it through.
He flashed her a closed lipped smile, while his wine red eyes danced with humor. "It might take me a minute or two, but yes. No choice is barred from you, lest you will it to be so."
Lisa considered this for a long time before she shook her head. "This form suits you. Stay as you are."
His smile grew just a little wider. "Thank you, milady. I am glad to hear it."
Lisa momentarily fell silent before she took a deep, cleansing breath. She fought her fatigue and sore voice box, before she asking. "What do I call you?"
"Milady may call me anything that tickles her fancy," came the serene reply. "Though I did quite enjoy my last title."
"Which was?"
"My previous Master called me: Sebastian Michaelis. . . In the years I answered to that title, I came to appreciate it for what it was. Since his passing, it has become a reminder of days past but not forgotten. I have grown rather fond of the moniker." He paused, before adding. "Though any name milady grants me shall do just as well. I am not by any means a finicky demon."
Lisa regarded him with tired humor, choking back another painful laugh. Who was she to begrudge a preference of names? And besides, the victorian name was perfect for him. "Well, you've sold me on the idea. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sebastian."
"Mistress, the honor all is mine." The handsome demon gratefully inclined his head to her. Then he gestured deliberately towards the bed where she lay. "I hate to be impertinent, but would milady take offense if I sat on her bedside? I fear the strain of looking up so long might cause you further harm."
"Be my guest, Sebastian. I won't break." 'Or at least. . .I hope I won't,' she thought, as Sebastian lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. He didn't jostle her at all as he sat, and was so still that it almost felt like he wasn't there at all. Once again, Lisa marveled at his otherworldly control, before she collected her thoughts and decided to get her answers.
"So, Sebastian," she began, once he was settled. "Tell me how I ended up in an attic with the best medical equipment possible, a handsome demon at my beck and call, and my body still intact after the beating of the century?"
Sebastian chuckled softly as he shook his head, letting his black hair waft about his head. "It is good to see milady's sense of humor wasn't beaten out of her. . . I suppose I should answer your questions in order, yes?" His eyes danced once again. "But first Mistress mine, what do you remember?"
"...I remember my husband, or rather exhusband, beating me and you showing up with a billion black feathers. You mentioned a contract of some sort, in exchange for saving me and I agreed. But that's all I've got. . . You mind filling in the blanks and telling me what you meant by a 'contract'?"
"By all means. It would be impractical for you not to have all the facts. It is your life after all." He said before the line of his mouth quirked and he moved to explain.
When he spoke it was matter-of-fact and light, as if he were discussing the weather instead of the tattered pieces of her life. It was all rather surreal, to say the least.
"Milady has been unconscious for approximately one month. You are on the mend, but still not at full capacity. Due to your condition when I brought you here, I have kept you sedated so that you'd experience minimal amounts of pain. We are in a flat that I procured, and the equipment was brought here by myself to ensure milady's care is of the utmost quality. I am far more practiced than any human surgeon and you were fading too quickly for my liking. That brute of a husband collapsed one of your lungs, broke your nose, and nearly blinded you. But luckily I was able to correct most of the damage inflicted upon your person. Given time, you will be whole again."
"And the contract?" Lisa asked when he paused. Her attention was on him, her blue gaze unwavering, despite her eyes' sensitivity and lethargy.
"Well normally, when I make a contract, it is finalized before I interfere or comply with my new master's wishes. . . But due to milady's condition, I was forced to make an exception. You agreed to a contract, but you blacked out before I could settle it with the demonic seal. And in order for a seal to be made and a contract to be accepted, a human's demands must first be agreed to."
Sebastian stared at Lisa unblinkingly. "So tell me, Lisa Dean, what would you wish of our time together? What desires hide within your soul? Tell them to me and I shall make them a reality."
Lisa was silent for what seemed like a lifetime, and Sebastian waited patiently. He seemed pleased that she wasn't rushing into her directives. So he allowed her time to consider.
Finally she spoke. "Well you gave me the thing I wanted the most when you saved my life. . . But if I had to specify other requests, your protection would be at the top of my list. . . and the need for normal companionship."
"Companionship? Such a simple request?"
Lisa flashed him a tired, wistful smile. "You seem to forget, Sebastian. . . I was stuck with a man who murdered me every day for years. If I am free to decide what I want, that would be it. I want to know what a normal relationship feels like, without the pain and fear. Without the abuse."
His wine eyes regarded her for a long moment before a easy smile rose to his pursed lips. "I cannot say how 'normal' our time together may be, but I shall do my best to provide a relationship unlike the one you've been forced to endure. . . What else would milady ask of me?"
"I'd like to have retribution against my ex, sometime down the road."
The demon finally showed his teeth. "It would be my pleasure to aid in such a venture, Mistress. Revenge is a specialty of mine."
Lisa found herself smiling despite herself. Maybe a demon contract wouldn't be so bad after all.
"Oohh! And I would love to time travel! I've always wanted to write historical novels, but writing them while living in the actual time period, would be the greatest thing ever!"
Her enthusiasm was now undeniable, and the demon shared her smile, though his brows lifted in humor at her outlandish request. "My Mistress has lofty goals, indeed. . . But I fear even I cannot travel through time. Only the Shinigami, or Reapers as you Americans call them, have the ability to jump through the ages freely. . . But I have an alternative we could perhaps look into. Where you could relive past centuries as if you had been present for them.. . . Would that be satisfactory to milady's demands?"
Lisa nodded, smiling as she settled back into her pillows. "Yes, Sebastian. That sounds satisfactory."
Sebastian bowed his head as his eyes began to glow bright magenta. "So be it, Lisa Dean. Then from this moment onward, you shall be my new Lady and Mistress. And until the end, I shall stand by your side~"
Lisa watched as a black pentagram tattoo rose to cover the back of Sebastian's hand, before a stinging, burning sensation erupted just above her heart.
When the woman hissed and pulled open her hospital gown to inspect the area, she was shocked to see a matching tattoo imprinted above her racing heart.
The contract was sealed. And the adventure had officially begun~
A/N: A commission for Than Blood over on Deviantart. Thought I'd repost it here as well. ;) Part 2 will be coming soon, so stay tuned! Please leave me a comment if you're enjoying the story so far!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own: Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji (anime, manga, characters, franchise, etc.), Sebastian Michaelis, Ciel, or J. Michael Tatum.