A/N: This was written after I discovered the significant absence of Madame Red fics on . And I fucking love Grell, who doesn't? Their relationship has always intrigued me to say the least, and I've always found Madame Red's tragic background something worth writing about. So this was born. This fic is written from Madame Red's POV and the words in italics are her ramblings to her dead love, Vincent Phantomhive. Please review!
Warnings: Mind-numbing angst, language, gore, violence, sexual content, non-con, Grell with a woman (If any of those things remotely offend you, please spare yourself and DO NOT READ! Flames will be mocked mercilessly.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of its characters. I am making no money off of this.
Red on Red
If I could only tell you in person how beautiful everything is.
I know that you would think less of me, but I wander the slums of White Chapel every night, and let me tell you; there is so much beauty that it produces a silence in me that lasts for days. Some would say that the only things worth seeing in London are the highlights of the aristocracy.
This is such a boldfaced lie.
There is as much loveliness in a begging, starving child as in a Duke's lavish dinner table, overflowing with succulent delicacies.
If I could only tell you everything, I would give up any of the few things that are left to me.
We would climb on top of the highest buildings just to feel above it all. The cold wind would catch us up as if it meant to throw us down onto the dirty cobblestones. But I would still stand there stoic and staring while Grell laughed his maniacal cackle and joked about the coming night's activities.
Grell, in his annoying falsetto, would always begin the night by complementing my taste in clothing for the evening. The conversations would be so informal and mundane that I almost forgot that I was talking to a lunatic death god with gender confusion. However, he was my savior. He taught me the ways of death and merciless carnage. If he had not, I would have drowned in my own rage and sorrow like a helpless child caught up in a freezing river current.
We both became the terror known as "Jack the Ripper".
"Oh, Madame Red! What a lovely night to cleanse this undeserving city of the whores that plague its streets!" Grell exclaimed in his high-pitched whine. He was leaning over the wall of a tenement building we were perching on. If he was not already dead I would have worried for his safety.
"Please. You could care less about this city or its inhabitants."
"What a fine pair we are! Both as cynical as an aging writer and both decked out in blood-red silks! I adore this night, in that it provides such an elegant backdrop for our performance!"
I rolled my eyes even though they were slowly filling with tears.
Is it even humanly possible to express how much I've been sobbing?
"Let's just be on our way."
I knew what I had to do. Why I came here with this ungodly creature to roam the pernicious city nights. And I knew after we were done I would be satisfied for a bit; I could put the happy façade back on again for my beloved nephew, Ciel. I could laugh and make uncouth jokes. I could dance with strange men at balls and even take them back to my mansion when the mood struck me to do so.
But it would never last.
Nothing I did these days could stay sweet and docile for long.
I hope you know that you meant the world to me. When I was pregnant I found myself shamelessly imagining that the child I was carrying was yours. As sick as it sounds, the thought gave me happiness beyond description. When you left me, the rest of my world went with you.
"YES!"
Grell's scream was so loud I thought for sure we would draw every sordid tenant out of their hovels to see our dark doings.
"Catch her!" I commanded breathlessly as the whore began to run away, her arm bleeding profusely from where my scalpel had slashed her.
Her name was Jessica. I had performed an abortion for her a few days ago.
You will be disappointed to know that the violence of this world, this city, has consumed me, eaten me from the inside out. And now that the butchery in my mind and heart has made its way to the surface, I am forced to express it in ways that are shamefully horrid.
Oh, God…
Vincent, please forgive me!
I do not, nor have I ever, cared for the approval of God, but you…
You are the only one who can judge me, and I fear more than anything that I have failed you!
But these arrogant whores…
They must pay for their sins!
Grell was cheering me at the top of his lungs, watching with anticipation as I thrust two scalpels into the wrists of the cornered Jessica. She wailed, struggling to free herself from the pain, but we had chased her into a deserted alleyway. Her cries collided, not with sympathetic human listeners, but an enraged doctor, an insane god, and dilapidated apartment buildings.
I was breathing hard now. Jessica was crucified before me and I was deciding where to begin.
Hating women came so naturally for me.
After all, it was another woman you fell in love with, wasn't it?
I like to think that the child I was carrying in my womb before the accident was a boy…but I don't suppose I'll ever know.
"Oh, her dress is just divine! Very becoming and tasteful, even for a tart, don't you think?" Grell exclaimed as he moved to stand beside me. He wanted to see as much of the blood as he could. He wanted it to cover him like the holy water of a baptism.
"Do you want the dress?" I couldn't help but smile. My darkest impulses were fighting for ultimate control over my mind.
"Well…here you GO!" My hand brought the third scalpel that I was clutching down on between Jessica's large breasts. The ripping of the fabric interlaced with her screams, creating a sickly harmony. I began to shred the dress to pieces.
Grell clucked over the sound, shaking his head as he began to lecture me.
"You naughty thing! You've ruined it!"
Jessica was in hysterics at this point, begging me, appealing to whatever humanity she believed I had left, to spare her. I responded by cupping her right breast and digging my knife into her nipple. The unearthly screams brought me partly back to reality, reminding me that silence was probably an element that I needed to add to this excursion. I slit her throat and let myself be blinded by the spray of red that flung itself into my eyes.
When I was young, I had convinced myself of the fact that I was ugly. Women's fashion at the time worshiped women with soft golden hair as demure goddesses that held up the ideal of what women should be; tender, submissive, almost ignorant creatures.
My red hair became a symbol to me.
I would never be like those women, and I hated myself for it.
But you, Vincent, turned my oddity into pride and strength. Why should I be like them? You made me bold, cunning, a hostess of many charms that exceeded those dim, giggly girls in countless ways.
Even after your marriage to my sister, I continued to thrive.
But then I lost everything; my husband, my child, my womb…and eventually, you as well.
If I could just tell you how much that changed me.
The power you had awoken in me conspired to corrupt me. I turned into a monster because of it, a blind woman who couldn't see past her desire for blood and revenge.
Blood…
Because that really is the color of my hair, isn't it?
The sharp, angular cuts of the hairstyle became symbolic of my personality and a reminder, a tell-tale sign; of the devilish nights I spent murdering those that wronged me.
Do you understand that this is what you left me with?
When I awoke I found nothing but the rotted, pungent smell of blood and dead flesh.
"Oh my, you're finally up! I thought I would have to reap your soul… I saved Jessica's hair for you, like you always want. Too bad you ruined her… I would've enjoyed applying her makeup. Not that the bitch deserved it!"
I still felt dizzy and uncoordinated, my limbs heavy as if the smell of the blood weighed them down.
"Where are we?"
"Oh, some seedy little rat's nest called 'The Fountain'."
Once my vision began to clear, I saw what he was talking about. The place was as horrid-looking as the smell with its ragged furniture, no doubt infested with fleas, a broken window that overlooked even more unsavory buildings, and floorboards that appeared to have rat droppings and vomit or blood stains on them.
"Jessica…"
"Beside you, love."
I looked to the right of me, where he and motioned with a toss of his head, and saw the gory mess that remained of my former patient on the bed next to me. She provided a lovely contrast with the fine clothing I was wearing. All of her hair was cut off and gathered in a pile on the floor, her body was almost unrecognizable; the breasts cut off, the stomach torn open, its contents overflowing onto the mattress and reaching my hand. The intestines were wrapped around her neck.
"Dear God, Grell!" I leapt off the bed in a sudden rush of nausea. Grell began laughing hysterically.
"Don't blame me! You were the one who did all that! I had to practically drag you off of her! You mean you don't remember?" He gave me a knowing look as if I was trying to trick him and he saw right through it. But I wasn't. I had no idea what he was talking about and I certainly didn't remember doing this to the woman.
"Why on earth did you bring her to the hotel with us?" I noticed his weapon (he called it a scythe but it looked like nothing I had ever seen before, with its loud machinery and sharp, rotating blades) propped up against the wall beside Jessica. It was covered in blood.
"Oh, I thought she would make a fantastic aesthetic addition for the remainder of the night's activities!" He moved in on me as he said this, grabbing a near-by chair, plopping in down behind me and giving me a soft nudge as an indication that he wanted me seated. I complied warily. My trust in this creature was always limited and I always had a hard time being in his company for an extended period of time. After our usual forays in the London streets we would always part ways almost immediately.
"I've decided to give you a little makeover!" He pulled his bag of cosmetics out of some bottomless pocket in his trench coat. I gave him a look that said I thought he was insane.
"Grell…I'm exhausted. I just want to go home and rest like I usually do. I still don't quite understand why we're—"
"Come now!" I heard the pout in his voice before he even arranged the expression on his face.
"You know I usually give your little victims a flawless new look before you have your way with them, but this time you went berserk and did your own thing!"
"For the love of God…"
"Please?!" His eyes were sparkling with innocent anticipation but there had been a slight edge to his voice that made me shiver with apprehension.
"Alright."
There were so many moments that I wanted you.
Times in the garden where I would consider throwing myself on you, but you would continue to ramble on, oblivious to any feelings that emanated from me other than friendship.
But there was always that ache. I wanted you to desire me the way I desired you.
But you never seemed to understand.
Grell was on his knees in front of me. The various make-up containers were spread out around him and I could feel the uncomfortable heaviness of the products on my face. I didn't take the hand mirror that he offered me, not wanting to see the results of his two hour endeavor. I had seen what the girls I had killed looked like. It was never pretty, always garish, and could be considered a travesty of the female mask.
When all of those other women looked at you, I held back so much of myself, unwilling and afraid to make my true feelings known.
He was breathing heavily. His gloved hands, stained with blood and make-up, were caressing my ankles where the straps of my black shoes dug into the flesh.
"You're so beautiful…" He muttered as he leaned down, and in an almost reverent gesture, kissed my right foot. His sparkling eyes met mine for a moment while he began taking off the leather heels.
"Do you have any idea how different you are from other women?" His hands had disappeared up my dress and were gradually climbing higher up my thighs like purposeful snakes. I tried to hide my discomfort at these strange romantic advances, but I couldn't help but feel entirely thrown by the situation. The chills he gave me were undeniable. My mind began racing for a way out of this dreadful room and this frightening, toothy, monster who had suddenly gotten it in his head to grope me.
"Grell, I thought you hated women?"
He frowned so quickly and viciously my heart seemed to lurch to a stop.
"I just told you…weren't you paying a bit of attention? You're different." At this he pulled his hands out from under my skirt, grabbed the hem of my gown and tore it all the way up to my waist. I cried out in surprise, the question of how I would get home in such a state flickering through my mind. Grell removed his gloves and adjusted his slightly fogged glasses.
"You do things that other women would flee from in hysteria. You're never afraid…"
I almost said 'No. You're wrong,' but something stopped me. I knew in an instant, instinctively, that it would have been the worst possible thing to say. A voice, awakening deep from within my skull, began to desperately clamor for my survival. It told me to check my words very carefully while with Grell.
But you made sure I would never be alone, didn't you?
Ciel is always there, always watching with those eyes that look so much like yours.
You abandoned both of us…but not entirely.
Because every time I see him, I see you, and every time he looks in the mirror, I'm sure he sees the same.
And you knew; you knew that this would happen!
And God, if Ciel discovers me, it will be like you found me out as well!
With every step the boy gets closer to finding the truth.
With every step he takes, I become more certain that I will have to kill him.
"But…I can't!"
His tongue was lapping my thighs. Licking them like a dog starved for affection and travelling, much to my chagrin, even further up towards my crotch. I briefly considered clamping my legs shut, trapping Grell between my legs and squeezing until he suffocated. The sharp flickers of his teeth made that line of thinking come to a quick halt. Tears were streaming down my face as he tore my clothing once more. This time it was the lacey panties that were my last line of defense against this depraved god of death.
"He's so close to figuring it out I can smell it." Grell gave me another smirk as he threw my ruined undergarments across the room.
"If you don't kill that boy, I will. And if I do it, it won't be one bit pretty. Not one bit at all." There was absolutely no humor in his voice and I had never felt more frightened in my entire life. Images of Ciel's tiny body being devastated by Grell's scythe made me cringe even more than the tongue that was now licking the moist flesh between my thighs.
"I-I'll do it…"
He paused his useless attentions for a moment to murmur, "That's a good girl."
How will you forgive me?
What would you have me do as penance?
If it were possible, I would rip my womb out again for you, kill hundreds, even thousands for your mercy!
But I know that no matter what I do, it will never be enough.
--END.