So, a certain friend of mine hooked me onto "Black Butler". And I've always been fascinated with mythology, and the infinite ways to interpret it. So, here's a new project I'm playing around with. Head's up- I'm following the manga plotline. So expect a slooow story, haha! I'll post at the beginning of every month, unless circumstances (ie: slow manga updates or increasingly inflexible real life schedule) interfere. Anyway, enjoy guys!

(This is only for fun- not for gain or to be some epic perfect tale.)

Disclaimer:

I own nothing but my OC(s). Everything related to Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso. And all songs quoted/helped to inspire this fanfic are property to their rightful artists. I intend no copyright infringement. (The title of this fanfic was based off the song "Firelands", sung by Tracey Hewat.)

Genre: Spiritual/Horror

Rating: Mature (for gore, language, and potential sexual moments)

Synopsis:

"Sebastian Michaelis" is nothing more than a fake identity; a toy in a child's war game. Formidable deities, who call themselves Reapers, continue to cross paths with he and his current "master". Along the way of this current game, an undertaker with more aces up his sleeve than predicted turns the tables of the game's score. But when a young woman of uncanny simple beauty enters the fray, where will the demon prioritize his focus? On the past interlinked to his future, or his next meal?

Stay with Me, in the Firelands

I.

I Cannot Believe

Nestled in between buildings and shadows, a small business with an overbearing sign shone ominously to those unfortunate passersby who took to London's backstreets, where the rats and Underground crimes crawled mercilessly. It was also where a company of five found themselves one afternoon. A man of Chinese origin, an upper-class woman robed in lavish red, a child of the same class, and two contrasting butlers.

Their business was theirs, and they had (to the dismay of the woman in red and her graceless servant) no choice but to seek the answers they lacked from the Undertaker.

This set in action, however, a string of events and meetings the butler in black was not prepared for…

"So, where are we?"

"You don't know!? Then what was that all about!?"

"It's a funeral parlor run by an acquaintance of my lord's."

"'The Undertaker'…?"

Chatter from outside brought the buried head of a young woman up from her work. It was rare for the employer and owner of the small business to frequent guests, unless for a very specific type of work. And from the rowdiness outside, it seemed as though her boss's "guests" were not here for that line of service. Putting the record file she was finalizing down, she turned to the door leading to the main room of the business front.
The funeral parlor, as the one man so simply explained to the party, was divided into two, maybe three, rooms. The main room or lobby, the office (doubling as miniaturized kitchenette), and one door that remained almost always locked. The woman in the office didn't see the need to inquire about the locked door. However, her eyes watched the door leading to the lobby. There was only one place the Undertaker frequented while at work…

"Are you there, Undertaker?"

Giddy hollow cackling resounded from a hollow coffin near the office doorway. "I thought I'd be seeing you before long."
The coffin's top creaked as the Undertaker pried the top off from the inside. "My lord, it's so lovely to see you! Do I finally have the pleasure of fitting you for one of me coffins, today!?"

And just like that, the atmosphere shifted from discomforting to simply awkward. 'Ah well,' the woman mused, stifling a chuckle behind her knuckles. 'I would expect no less from him. He's always been a bit odd- but sometimes that's what makes him charming.' She flipped the folder shut, pushing her way from the desk and out of the chair silently. 'He at least keeps the job far from droll. However…'

Her eyes widened as a familiar sensation wracked her body from its very core.

"- I know why you came. With just one look, I can tell what's on your mind." A fit of soft giggling followed. "Since the Earl went out of his way to visit me, I'll certainly do everything I can to help."

Hesitation. "You know something?"

"Now, now Earl." The Undertaker drawled. "I have only one requirement. 'A first rate laugh.' If you do, no matter what you want to know, I'll tell you…!"

'And only he would be able to emit such a fit of laughter from him.'

Eyes pinched together from absolute exasperation, but the woman laughed lightly to herself, climbing down from a countertop, successfully having obtained a new tin of tea leaves from one of the many upper cabinets.

The Undertaker's breathy chuckle subsided enough for him to speak. "Please, take a seat. I'll make some tea…"

'I had a feeling he would…' With a sigh, the young lady from the office finished pouring the tame black tea into five white china teacups, placing varying amounts of sweetness to four of the five cups. 'He's going to scare them with his gimmicks. Might as well show a bit more hospitality… They did pay his asking price, I suppose. Besides, I could use a break from his filing.'

With hands delicately gloved in ivory satin, she grabbed the silver tray and made her way into the lobby with haste.

Uncertainty hovered above the small group as they watched with looks of disdain and repulsion as the Undertaker began pouring a weak looking brew into beakers. But all their eyes flickered to the now open door, and the newcomer holding a tray with a white china set. And when she smiled their way politely, the woman in red and her presumed butler nearly buckled in relief. The man with Asian-inherited bone structure smiled bemusedly, while the child quirked his head and frowned. As for the other butler, the one dressed in black…

The woman set the tray down on the large coffin with the beakers. "Undertaker, you cannot serve something like tea to guests in those beakers of yours, I've told you that already." Hard eyes from the man clothed in black watched her every move, and she was well aware.

"Hehehe, sorry dear little one. Bad habits, you know firsthand about thooose…"

She brushed it off with a wave of the hand. "It matters not. Now this tea is of the black variety, and rather tame in flavor- nothing exotic to it. Three of the cups have only a light amount of sweetener." She pointed to the cups as she spoke.
"This one is for the little Lord, as I've heard mentions of your liking of sweets- I hope you do not mind." Delicately she handed the child his especially sweetened drink.
At her own leisure, she turned to the butler in black. "You don't look like the type to particularly enjoy anything substantially sweet. I didn't bother adding sugar to yours." Her smile could rival his own characteristic grin; sickeningly sweet and fake.

"What about me deary?"

Quick as can be, she snatched the beaker still clutched in the Undertaker's hand (a much larger glass than what the teacups could ever hope to hold) and gracefully poured the man a glass. "Because we ran out of chinaware." She reasoned simply. The same smile never faltered.

"Forgive me," the child was frowning, his mouth a thin line of contempt behind his tea. "But who are you? I've never seen your face around this city, let alone in the country."

"How rude, how rude of us!" The Undertaker cackled. "She's an acquaintance of mine. Far back we go."
The young woman laughed airily. Grabbing a handful of her baby-blue skirts, she curtsied low. "Forgive us. My name is 'Abbie', Little Lord."

"Sorry for intruding, Undertaker." Young Ciel acknowledged as he lead the way through the exit.

The white china clacked together as nimble fingers stacked the empty dishes onto the tray. The Undertaker waved a giddy goodbye as the last of the group scurried out the door, leaving "Abbie" to clean up. In no time all cups, beaker, and teapot were accounted for. Her eyes flickered to her boss.

"'Jack the Ripper', eh?" her laugh was hollow.

"Indeed, indeed. That fellow's been keepin' us busy of late." Undertaker grinned her way, reclining back against one of his bookshelves.

The dishes on the tray jingled as she walked. "And the Queen has taken it upon herself to hire a child to crack the case."
The tray hit the countertop without damage done. "I'll never comprehend the humans and their thought processes."

Long finger nails tapped together bemusedly; a wide, indecipherable smile stretched over the male's scarred face. "Most of us cannot. Yet we are intrigued by them and their short existences. All of us." Undertaker chortled merrily. "Even you, deary. It's why you always come back."

The woman frowned thoughtfully, lips pursed. Silently, she removed one of the gloves from her hands deftly, the material hitting the counter with no sound.

Undertaker stared at her backside from where he perched, taking in her reaction with a maddening beam. Her eyes did not stray from focusing on the black black fingernails contrasting prominently to her light colored flesh.

Author's Endnote:

And there you have it! Chapter I of Stay with Me, in the Firelands complete!

It's purposefully broken and disorienting for a reason. I won't give details away~ Especially since I'm following the manga's plot more than the anime. (However what "Abbie" looks like will be explained more come the following chapter, but the real description and understanding of her figure/personality will be explored as this tale kicks into higher gear later on.)

Next Chapter:

The butler in black returns to the Undertaker's place of business…