CHAPTER 2: The Ritual

Birds chirped their hearts out, greeting the cheerful day. The slight warmth in the air, probed and spread, everything and every space that spanned under its rapidly expanding wings. The gaily sunlight, furnished the carpet with bright patches of yellow and gold, skillfully traversing through the pores of the gauzy fabric, fluttering by the window. Emma lay still, blissfully asleep like a new born, in one dim corner of the room. It was only when the warmth nudged her repeatedly and the chirping became too loud to bear, her lazy eyes parted leisurely, only to be welcomed by a vivid three dimensional triangular cone floating high up from the ceiling. "A star? A Christmas star?" she thought puzzled.

A glass of water and an ornate silver cup brimming with tea waited at the table on her bedside begging her attention. She spontaneously reached for the glass, delightfully emptying its contents that expeditiously tended to her longtime parched throat. While her mouth dutifully attended to her physical needs, her mind wandered to the last moments of her encounter with the Shinigami. She shuddered when the cruelly granted deal ghosted across her mind. Her fingers cautiously glided to explore the sore muscle that was shooting weak waves of obnoxious pain that only intensified manifold upon contacting causing her body to cringe and tremble.

'Looks like you are awake, darling'.

Startled, Emma snapped her head up. Glancing curiously at her was a lean lady standing in the doorway. Her more-white-than-grey hair was slicked back in a neat bun and her torso was buried under an old fashioned gown, spanning her ankles. Her twinkling eyes wrinkled at her efforts to put forth a smile. She moved closer to Emma and patted her head, 'I thought you wouldn't be able to join me for breakfast today either'.

'How… How long have I been here Grandma?' asked Emma, letting her eyes screen the strangely cozy room she had failed to notice before.

'Oh, you have been passed out for 3 days dear. You were screaming and writhing in so much pain, it got me worried sick. I constantly kept praying... and with his grace, you are up on your feet again.' she smiled, a very genuinely warm and a gentle smile. 'And that calls for rejoicing... Oh dear!' she stopped short, the smile waning in the wake of a sudden realization, 'I almost forgot to wish you. Merry Christmas my dear child! May god bless you and keep you safe from harm in the future.' She held out her fagged out hand and stroked Emma's head.

Emma listened silently to the lady's words that only floated discretely in her fuzzy mind making no sense what so ever. 'Grandma, where am I? And how did I get here?'

'Oh, we'll spare the details for the breakfast dear. Come on, get out of bed. I will help you with your bath. That is one nasty wound you have there. May god beat some humanity into the person who did that to you. Come on, hurry'. She gently pulled Emma out of the bed and ushered her to the bathroom.

Somehow, Emma managed to evade the old lady's offer to wash her. Cloaked in a thin film of steamy hot water, Emma examined her wound again. "I wonder if it will leave a scar..." she shook her head and dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared in her mind. "Does it matter anymore? Unfinished business, huh… How do I go about it?"

A faded, worn out light pink dress lying on the bed awaited Emma, causing her to halt at the bathroom doorway drawing a disapproving look. "The lady is too affectionate" she shook her head and draped herself.

'Oh my, just like I thought. That dress looks lovely on you. That was my niece's' said the old lady, her eyes twinkling with joy. Then just like before they lost their light in a jiffy, 'she passed away a year ago.' And again like nothing had happened, the old lady recuperated at a frightening pace, 'Well, past is past. Let that be. Now, we have scones, muffins, gingerbread, roasted goose, jelly and Christmas pudding. I made them all for you. So don't hold back and dig in right away!'

Emma groaned inwardly at the sudden display of erratic emotions declaring silently inside her head that she was never going to get used to it. "Wait... am I even planning to stay that long?"

Emma passed by a Christmas tree joyfully decorated with candies, bells, golden paper, gifts and ribbons, completely deeming its existence too useless to be of any notice. However she couldn't evade the intensely cheery and refreshing atmosphere that both the tree and the lady were putting forth for her to deal with. She simply wanted to disappear into a black void.

Emma began eating her food quickly, trying to drown her uneasiness and letting her impatience getting the better of her voice, before popping the unanswered question from before. 'Now tell me Grandma, how did I get here?'

The old lady sighed, with least efforts at refraining to show her disappointment. 'Well, three days ago, early in the morning, a young man with thick black hair, tied up with a red ribbon, wearing red rimmed glasses came by and thrust you upon me. He pretty rudely said to throw you out of the house once you regained your consciousness.' She paused and smiled, 'But you see dear, I have no intentions of doing that. I… I have lived alone for quite some time now. So your being here… well, makes me feel like I have someone to take care of. And I don't know if he will come back for you. So stay he…'

'I… I have some unfinished business I must absolutely attend to Grandma' said Emma harshly, disallowing the lady to continue further. She knew that the end of her speech would only awaken unwanted feelings inside of her which in turn would only weaken her resolve. The old lady's smile receded and a worried look stole its place. 'I understand dear. But... but... that man, do you trust him?'

Emma avoided the lady's glance. 'The food was delicious Grandma. It was really kind of you. But I must leave now.' she said with a swift bow as she got up from the table.

The old lady squeezed Emma's hand, 'Dear, I don't know what happened to you, but I will tell you one thing. Remember, no matter what happens, God will always be by your side. So don't lose hope. That is one thing that you must not abandon what so ever... Now wait here, I will fetch you a coat and a pair of gloves. It's insanely cold outside.' Emma stared at her hands as the tingling warmth lingered where the old lady had touched them. She smiled vaguely at the irony. It was true. For at least 6 months, if not god, the Shinigami would definitely be by her side.

When the old lady returned, Emma smiled and replied, 'Too bad Grandma, if it is God then he has forsaken me a long time ago and if it is hope, I have abandoned it a long time ago. Thank you for taking care of me.' She bowed again gracefully and exited the front door, leaving an astonished lady pondering over her words.

"I shouldn't get involved with kind people." Emma thought uncomfortably. "So… What should I do and where should I…"

'Ah! For a while I thought you had changed your mind' boomed a voice from behind her. She turned to face a smirking Grell.

'You sound worried Reaper.' Emma returned his smirk. 'Anyway it would have been your fault for leaving me behind with a generous person and not expect her generosity to affect me.'

'Eh! Reaper? What happened to calling me Grell san? Please don't drop the honorifics. Not only do I refrain from taking your soul and grant you a deal, now I am being blamed for showing chivalry? Ah… kids these days… They have no respect for elders at all' said Grell, dramatically rolling his eyes and touching his forehead with the back of his hand. 'Anyway that lady will be dead by tonight' he added on a flat note.

Emma stopped dead in her tracks. Without turning back, she asked in a small voice, 'What do you mean?'

Grell side-glanced her apathetically, 'Why do you think we are here in this particular village Emma?'

Emma was not listening. She had to heed her aching heart that was being devoured by black vicious smoke mockingly clawing at her resolve to not get affected by the kindness showered by that lady. She clenched her fist as she flashed her hateful fangs inside her head at a huge glowing ball of white, "Yet another kind, gentle, smiling person is going to be taken away from this world... What kind of plans do you have for everyone? Are you even there? Even though she completely believes in you, why are you not doing anything about it, God?" Her pulse quickened and hatred ate away at her heart.

Grell yelled behind her, 'Oi, are you listening to me?'

She instantly regained her tranquility and quickened her pace to avoid the annoying Shinigami to catch up with her, even if it was for a few nanoseconds... 'I am very well aware that you did not bring me to this village to be taken care of by a dying lady. I assume you have news regarding Sebastian. So quit babbling and get to the point' she replied sharply.

'You are smart for your appearance, princess. Just like that brat, Ciel was. You are right, I did find a way. But first we need to find a dried up well that is renowned to be the source of doom and illness. Sacrifice a lamb and the demon will appear. Oh! I can't wait to see Se-basu-chan...' squealed Grell in his obnoxiously high pitched voice.

'So where is the well?' Emma deadpanned, absolutely refusing to partake in the reaper's sick happiness.

'I don't know' Grell replied nonchalantly.

Emma halted, 'So Grell san you are saying that you found out so much but failed to get the exact location of the well and save us some time?'

'Well in a way that would be correct.' Grell grinned.

Emma shook her head, 'You are one lousy Shinigami after all!'

'If I do everything, what will you do princess?' retaliated Grell, in his defense.

Emma ignored his question and approached a woman who was busy drying clothes in her backyard. 'Excuse me, um... sorry for disturbing you while you are at work but would you be kind enough to tell me where I can find a dried up well in this village?'

The greeting smile that was plastered on the lady's face, until the question popped up, vanished immediately, and she stood stoned to the ground like she had peeped into the eyes of the Greek monster, Medusa. The cloth piece slipped from her hands and floated to the ground. Her eyes quivered with terror and horror as words nervously escaped her mouth, 'I... Its behind the ol… old church. G… Go s... straight on t... this road and w… walk, t... till you… you find a cem… cemetery. Be… behind the trees... the w… w… we…' words froze in her throat.

'Thank you very much', replied Emma patiently. She picked up the fallen cloth and tossed it back in the bucket. She turned to go. The lady suddenly seized Emma's hand and squeezed it hard. Her eyes were clouded with fear and her distant gaze screamed hysteria, 'God does not reside there! Evil does! Nobody gets out of that place alive. That place breeds insanity and anybody desperate to go there will lose their morale. No, no, you must not go there. Only death awaits that place!'

Emma listened carefully before placing a placid palm on the woman's trembling hands and replied, 'I have nothing to lose, and I am not willing to turn back now. Thank you for the warning though.' She gently brushed the perplexed lady's hand aside and walked on. Grell joined her on the way.

'I don't think it's the sacrifice of a lamb we need. There must be more to this ritual than what appears to be...' spoke Emma after careful scrutinization.

'We will find out when we get there, anyway' trotted Grell alongside Emma carrying a lamb underneath his arms which was struggling to break free. Emma side-glanced the lamb and quietly walked ahead.

A whole hour later, tiny crosses peeped from above the ground lined by tall pine trees stretching in the background. Desolation hung in the air. As the two skirted across the cemetery, an unsettling feeling of eeriness coaxed Emma causing her to flinch slightly. On the contrary, Grell seemed to be enjoying the scenery, getting excited by the minute.

Behind the silhouette of the trees, a tilted red cross appeared high up in the sky. Parts of a crumbling building were now visible through the heavily matted greenery. Upon closer inspection, they could see the dislodged rooftop and broken windows. The white paint from the walls had peeled off at many places and the base of the building had been engulfed by lush foliage. They felt the ominous presence of still air and deathly silence, wrap the atmosphere which was only enhanced by the absence of any life form. Though it was mid-noon, the sun's rays barely marked the ground.

Emma put on her gloves and pulled her coat closer. The icy wind was gnawing and tugging at her coat, battling for an opportunity to pierce her body with its icy blades stripping her off of whatever little warmth her it was trying to furnish.

Fading reddish brown colored queer looking symbols were etched on the walls. Here and there, on the stones and the ground, were thick pools and patches of the same color. Broken glass pieces, metal fragments, torn faded fabric, decaying twigs and leaves cluttered the ground, masked by a dreadful stench that was uninhibitedly toying with her senses, causing her stomach to lurch and gut out her bile. Not only did the place have a gaudy unearthly presence to it that tormented Emma physically, it also started playing mind games on her brain forcing gory images of some ancient unseen battle ground with humans tugging the internals out of each other, to emerge in the process. The ground sagged, sustaining no consistency what so ever, only adding fuel to her unsettling feeling.

'Behind the church. We will have to go behind the church' motioned Emma almost choking with the foul odor raking her nose begging for free entry.

The duo circumvented the church. Upon a short distance, they found the well. The walls were shaded with thick films of decaying blood. Mosquitoes and houseflies were swarming in and out of the mouth of the well. In addition to what they had previously seen, they found skulls and bones dotting the ground this time.

Grell had been grinning feverishly for some time. He repositioned the helplessly bleating lamb under his arms as his nose twitched with excitement taking in the sickening beauty of the rotting place painted with his favourite colour, dulled due to age. He was more than convinced that this was definitely Sebaschan's lair. 'Luring a priest and turning him against his own beliefs and morals to such an extent that the priest mass murdered his colleagues and the people who attended the church that day. That is something only Sebaschan can pull off!' chuckled the Reaper, his cheeks turning a flaming red. 'Finally the day has come when we meet again… Hmmmm… Sebaschan… I want to meet you so bad... and feel those moist lips set fire to my insides as we are locked in a passionate kiss... and... and...'

Emma felt disgusted. 'How do you know that?' she snapped, making her irritation very very evident in her tone.

'Tsk! Such a party pooper!' He sighed, 'It was written on the walls of the church. Looks like he made him write what he did before he asking him to jump into the well' replied Grell ecstatically, choosing to ignore the annoyance that was specifically directed at him.

Emma's mind rattled a bit. "What if a similar fate awaited me? Will the Shinigami save me? What if the Demon doesn't wish to make a contract? In that case will Grell let me be devoured? No, wait, Sebastian will not be able to stay on earth longer if he doesn't form a contract, right? But in that case, will I be able to convince him to make one?" She moved closer to the well and peeped in. 'Did the priest make a contract with Sebaschan by any chance?'

'There is no sure way of knowing that. But as long as the Demons sense a purpose for being summoned, they usually form a contract. I don't think the priest made the contract. All this looks like Sebaschan had a little fun of his own. Moreover he was picky when it came to choosing his master. What? Are we having second thoughts now, princess?' chuckled Grell san.

Emma had stopped listening halfway. Something carved at the side of the well had caught her attention. She bent down to examine it. A series of imperceptible symbols scaled the wall. She nudged Grell and directed his attention to it. He stooped and adjusted his glasses. His eyes twinkled almost instantly. 'This is Helshischweth language, the language of the demons. And it is looks like the ritual to summon one. It says',

Guetelle noctre grisht win sueon,

nos cleuor, nos bolbeura,

Prita parleur prec cistieq quesselle,

scapia chiateth grubboe

nos fecitia, nos fascinasuea

primora honstoppe maxicaddor

sette goerneiore reccreverbe

pichher welleth, devillethe pressentia...

'which means:'

When the day merges with night,

And it is neither dim nor bright,

Follow my instructions, simple and crude,

Throw in the lamb as my food,

The one who committed no sin, no crime,

Whose good intentions were always at prime,

One, whom you sought generosity from,

Throw them in and I shall come...

'Like I thought, there was a more deeper meaning to the ritual. Let go of the lamb, Grell san' announced Emma.

'A scapegoat huh?' Grell unconsciously threw the lamb into the well. 'Ah! It slipped…' he looked sheepishly at Emma and let out a nervous giggle that failed its way to reach his eyes.

Emma thought about the inscription for a moment. "What is the meaning of this poem? Who could he be talking about? One whose intentions were always at prime? Is he referring to an innocent person? And what does sought generosity from mean? Does he want a person who was betrayed? What is he referring to…" Her eyes widened as the meaning sank in. Her cheeks were shrouded in a deathly pallor as her heart raced at an insane pace, threatening to jump out of her ribcage hold. Her head throbbed, screaming, denying, rebelling with all its might to shut out the heinous truth from surfacing and baring its mockery filled vicious fangs at her. "It can't be…" she clutched the rim of the well tightly. "It can't be… It can't be! It can't be! It can't be! What have I gotten myself into?" She seethed and trembled as her morality was being belitteled, shredded and scattered to nothingness.

Grell watched her unruffled and after a momentary speculation, he said coldly, 'Let's get going. We have a lot of work to do.'

Emma couldn't budge. Her legs were rooted to the ground. The harshness of reality had struck her foundation like a mighty hammer and she found herself baseless, tossed about atop an inky black raging sea, with no direction, no goal and no end. Her breathing became shallow. She felt like she was already spiralling into a seemingly hell and her journey had even started yet...

Grell got irritated at this point. 'What did you think? Making a demon your slave will be a cake walk? If you want something, you have to let go of something. Get moving or I will decide your fate right here, right now' he threatened in a deadly serious tone.

Emma was in pain. She looked at Grell with teary eyes. However, Grell's cold eyes were fixated on hers. They showed no mercy, no pity, no faltering. He had violated his duty and yet he stood there undeterred. "Unfinished business, Emma, Unfinished business...", echoed a voice loud and clear inside her head. "Rebecca", Emma whispered, clutching her locket and closing her eyes shut.

When she opened them, they were dead. She wiped her tears and threw away her feelings. Like a killing machine set on a mission, she walked ahead and called out to Grell, "Come let's go Grell san. We will get late otherwise. I cannot afford to waste more time'. Grell was pleased with the development and followed her quickly.

The duo retraced their way back to the village. Emma felt her each and every step weighing her heavily down with guilt and hatred. But she didn't stop. She wouldn't. The decision had been taken and there was no turning back...