Another update of this bizarre, sadistic story! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as always, and I hope this chapter answers more questions (and opens new ones too). The style is intentionally different because most of the exposition is stuff the characters themselves already know and I thought it was a neat way to introduce the background (skip to the end if you just want to see the cockfight). Let me know if it worked.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji
Among the most popular sources of entertainment in London, 1889:
1) The use, trade, and harboring of intoxicants
2) Gambling
3) Prostitution
Among the illegal activity in London, 1889:
1) The use, trade, and harboring of intoxicants
2) Gambling
3) Prostitution
There were no particulars for the location of these crimes nor did they make an effort to hide. The Law seldom, if ever, touched the trinity. The nation's underbelly was seedy, if not muddied all around, and the spread of debauchery was not limited to the corners of society. It was the mainstream itself that posed the biggest problem and the cleanest of men were quickly rooted out.
This was a world for the basest and it made sure to let its inhabitants know. These thoughts were on no one's mind and at everyone's at once. For instance, in one gambler's mind as he filed into his seat on the wooden stands within a rundown building, he worried that the purity of two children would lead to a con to his disadvantage.
Said children sat on either side of him, small dirty bobs lost in a crowd of sweat and grime. The cheap light dimmed and flickered before focusing on the stage beneath them, once meant for a dinner theatre and now reduced to a platform covered in dry blood.
This worried gambler didn't know the first thing about cockfighting. All he knew was that it brought money.
A few rules about cockfighting:
1) Killing is a choice. Once a necessity, it became evident that business blooms with more living than dead.
2) No interference, no extras, no bail- commitment is final
3) Winner take all
He knew little on the origins of this particular form of cockfight, but like most, understood it linked back to a deal with the devil, a tale that stretched eons backwards.
In the height of the Roman reign, Emperor Claudius VI was among the first to make such a deal. Born into a life of luxury and power, he was the thirteenth son in a family of women, the only one eligible for his father's throne. An act of treachery would change that trajectory on his fifteenth birthday. Not long after Emperor Claudius V was ambushed and killed en route to conquer the Saxons, General Livius returned to dispose of the family.
The son of a chambermaid and Emperor Augustus, Livius I was the shamed half-brother of Claudius V and the rightful uncle of his children. With a mind as sharp as the sword he wielded, Livius quickly impressed his father and rose through the ranks. Trusted adviser, friend, and brother, Livius' betrayal was made all the worse.
To save the prince's life, Claudius' sisters threw themselves atop him as Livius' army stormed in. Killing the boy would have been easy, but the servant in charge of the attempt had a crueler (or perhaps kinder) intention in mind. Too frail for the Colosseum, Claudius VI was branded and sold as a common slave, taken out of the Roman borders and far from Livius' reign.
Whatever tortures Claudius endured were overshadowed by the tortures that followed the empire- not since the plagues of Egypt had so much misfortune befallen a city. Crumbling within and attacked by enemies all around, the period of Livius was a time of unrest and death. Having fallen under the hands of witch masters, Claudius grasped the last thread fate had to offer him. It was here Livius' fall truly began.
Claudius willed himself to forsake everything- his body, his title, his very soul- and in answer, a legion of beings rose from the depths of hell. This was Claudius' Army of Imps and the two masters he had offered his soul.
Having watched the slaughter of his sisters one by one, young Claudius grew up with only one desire at heart: vengeance. He had returned as the storm let up in Rome, having survived the markings of a slave and the ravages of war. By his side, the creatures that had latched onto his hatred, later to be known as the steel advisers, named for their cunning and sadistic rule- Germanus and Domitius.
An aging Livius stood no chance against Claudius' army and was impaled by his own sword. The Army of Imps was sent back and Claudius regained the empire. Ruling with an iron fist, he took it upon himself to crush their attackers and raise Livius' children as his own. Ironically called "son," Livius II grew to hate Claudius. As the empire shed more blood under Claudius' name, the emperor left the infrastructure under Domitius' control.
And Domitius in turn, shared his power with his partner, Germanus, for both devils were gleeful under their contractor. Germanus was particularly fond of the Colosseum and its blood sacrifices. As such, the humans provided little entertainment for him. With Claudius' approval, he called back the Army of Imps, and one by one threw them into the ring. The humans stood little chance and the spectacle ended with the imps slaying one another until nothing remained.
Among Claudius' growing sea of troubles, this was an unexpected event. More bitter and bloodthirsty than ever before under the emperor's rule, the people clamored for Germanus' bloodsport. Gone were the days of the gladiator. This was the catharsis they so sought. And so Germanus' hobby bloomed into a business under Claudius' orders. Domitius was to gather their fellow devils and Germanus would see to it that they played their parts- deceit, intimidation, and raw power were the three keys to success, for these lesser devils were ants against the likes of the steel advisers.
When Claudius died, leaving behind no sons save the ill-fated Livius II, Germanus and Domitius eagerly devoured his soul. It was a feast for kings. The steel advisers stayed with the empire long after his death, for Germanus had taken Claudius' form, an act Livius II did not approve of. Upon taking the emperor's form, Germanus continued his trade with a thirst that even a flood of blood could not quench.
It is believed Livius II contracted Domitius soon after and split from Germanus for good, never to meet again. Germanus eventually left the empire to crumble, taking his business elsewhere. As humanity crawled in and out of the dark ages, he had his fair share of meals and fights, though for a time the blood sport was considered vulgar by the very humans he sought to sell it to. No longer the glorious battles of old, it had become an activity of the perverse and animalistic by the sixteenth century.
As Germanus steadily fell from grace, his followers and imitators did with him. He was left with demons he had bred as fighting livestock, more useful as fighting chickens than soldiers. True to his nature, Germanus sold what he could and abandoned the rest to wander the earth.
Germanus did not resurface until 1750, the year he contracted a Jonathan O'Connor, a heavy investor in the human slave trade, a business the devil was no stranger to. At O'Connor's insistence, Germanus brought the blood sport back to life and the Connor Corporation profited like never before. It was not enough for Germanus, who had once witnessed the stadium in all its splendor. These demonic sideshows did little to impress him, though they fared well with the lower dregs of the public.
Shortly after O'Connor's death, an imp rebelled against its masters, razing a town to the ground. To Germanus' great amusement, the Grim Reaper Dispatch Association finally took note- having kept an eye on him for centuries, this was the first act they found worthy of a battle. Quick-witted, he struck a deal with them; Father Charlamagne Arman, orthodox priest, was quickly gaining in popularity throughout Europe and it would not do the gods good if he chose to turn against them, for their very existence threatened his beliefs. The Dispatch would intervene as they saw fit and its agents would continue their mundane existence as sinning saints, left to do their reaping and shamed for their origin. Humanity would stay out of everyone's way, as it always did.
Connor Co. kept a hand on the business long after its founder's death and would have continued if Germanus had not had one last spark of ingenuity. He could not disassociate his fine sport with common cockfighting, but he could elevate it among its supporters. For once, he turned his attention away from the lesser demons. Having convinced a sinning saint to partake in his latest scheme, Germanus used this lost soul to lure his old partner in: Domitius. Now stuck in a dead contract with the aforementioned reaper, Domitius found himself bound to Germanus' will.
Germanus took no small delight in throwing Domitius among the other mindless devils. It was the thought of fighting him that drew more powerful demons, voluntary and vengeful. How long Domitius could survive under such circumstances was of no concern to Germanus. He had revived the blood sport and invigorated it with an excitement he thought lost to Rome. And whether Germanus still controlled the sport or had grown bored was of no concern to those who knew the tale.
And what was of no concern to those who knew was of no concern to the American gambler sitting between two urchins in 1889.
He and the children only had eyes for the performance. Their raven-haired contender all but danced through the first three rounds, swiftly clawing down its opponents or otherwise beating them into submission. The one-eyed boy held onto its clothes, a dirtied button-up and a black jacket that should have seen better days. Their demon itself fought with childish glee, from what the spectators could tell. It leaped and kicked, fangs bared in a grin for all to see.
The tally-shaped scars etched into the demon's back marked its victories, some still raw and bleeding. He would have thought their demon invincible if it hadn't swayed in the final round. The blonde girl had been the first to voice her concerns, in a shout of "Sebastian!"
As it struggled to stay upright from whatever unhealed wounds that ailed it, the other demon lunged and swiped, claws tearing across their devil's chest. The next swipe ripped past the demon's back, digging into fresh skin and dragging through until it curved over the torso in long jagged tears. The blood splattered like ink and the opposing crowd roared with approval. The boy in turn, booed.
Before the gambler could feel his heart sink for all the money that would be lost, their contender came through. The demon let its competition sink those claws into its shoulders before grabbing onto the opponent's arms and flipping the other demon on its head. The ensuing crack and explosion of blood received a bout of enthusiastic applause from the gambler's side of the seats. The surviving demon grinned once more, raising an arm to wave at the crowd as it struggled to limp off stage.
The dead demon's fate, though ugly, was not his concern. He and the children rushed out of their seats to rejoin their demon as the announcer appeared on stage, a nervous fellow in a shabby coat. His only concern was the words that followed: "winner take all."
The boy was quick to chastise his demon before leaving to collect their money- "walk normally or don't at all, you idiot. We can't let all of them know how bad off we are." In turn, the demon taunted him and rolling his eyes, the boy left.
The gambler was left holding the demon's clothes, thankfully unbloodied. At that point, the demon was sitting at the girl's feet, its grin slowly morphing into a pained grimace when she turned away to retrieve her items. To the gambler's confusion, the grin returned as soon the girl turned back. In her hands were two rolls of gauze.
"Bandages, lots of bandages," she had once told the gambler.
He had assumed they were for the children and their frequent street wounds. They were for the demon.
Thanks for reading! Hope that chunk of exposition didn't bore you too much. It won't come up again for a while, but it's not written this way at random. Any gaps in it are intentional and that little piece of history is important to the rest of the story.
Again, reviews are more than welcome! Please let me know what you think so far.
Guest #1: Yes, we'll find out how Sebastian injured himself, or rather how he was injured lol. But I'm going to keep it a mystery for a while longer- let's just say it's part of the reason why Ciel's been so cold to him for the past 2 chapters. Thanks for reading and reviewing! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint!
Guest #2: Yes, Grell will be in this story! That reaper from chapter 1 is Grell because who else could it be right, haha. Grell won't show up for a while longer, but will be sort of an anti-hero here. The shinigami aren't faring very well in this story either lol. Thanks for reading and reviewing!