Notes:
Surpise! This is an extra chapter that I'm posting as a gift for the Holidays...and because I'm writing these very quickly...mostly because they're really short. The next one will be much longer, I promise. I hope whoever is reading this enjoys this chapter, which focuses on our uninvited guest.
Chapter 4: The Demon In The Shadows
The amber eyed Demon swiftly made his way up the cracked marble steps that led the way into the entry hall of his manor, vines and other nature beginning to reclaim the stone. It was very old and falling apart. A thick layer of dust had gathered over the marble floors and among the rubble. The Demon grinned mischievously to himself as shadows darted along the walls and floor around him, none of them belonging to himself. He paused before a shattered mirror, taking in his image. He studied his reflection which showed a tall, muscular man with olive skin and curly stark white hair which, he made note of, was in desperate need of a trim. He wore black trousers, an ashen vest with a black button up shirt, and tied around his collar, he wore a dark blue ribbon.
His yellow eyes scorched through the darkness of the dimly lit entry hall. The only source of light came from the wall scones, the candles nearly burned to their end, their white wax dripping on the stone floor. This was his home and he loved it. He actually enjoyed the rubble and decay. He admired it's honesty. In everything beautiful, there was something broken and if it wasn't yet broken, it could be ripped to pieces. And he loved ripping things to pieces, but not right now. He had other things in mind. Specifically the dainty Demon he happened upon. He couldn't get his flawless image out of his mind. It seared in his head like light sears into one's vision if they look at the sun. He loved and loathed this feeling of obsession. He wanted to rip his eyes out of their sockets, but that wouldn't solve the feeling emerging inside of his chest. And without his own eyes, he couldn't admire the lovely terror he wanted so desperately to feel below his body.
He turned away from the broken mirror and strode up the steps, skipping a step with every stride. He knew what he was going to do. He would take the lovely terror. He would take the lovely Demon with dark blue black hair, pale skin that resembled porcelain, and eyes that lit up the room, even if they didn't mean to. The house slave would be an issue, but he had been in desperate need of entertainment for some time, now. He stopped at the top of the stairs and sat down in the make-shift throne, it's cushions ripped and it's wooden frame beginning to rot away. He would need to make some minor adjustments to the decor, if he were going to be having a guest. He grinned to himself, his canines elongating as he thought of the feeling of his lovely terror's bony arms pinned above him by his own hands. He anticipated the sound of his name leaving those rosebud lips in breathy moans.
"Cy...ril...Cyril..."
He covered his nose with his hand as blood began to pour profusely down his face.
The shadows darted around him and spoke in hushed voices to him.
"You don't even know his name!" one cried.
"He doesn't even know you exist!" another sounded.
The Demon frowned and narrowed his yellow eyes at the shadows beginning to engulf him.
"Daddy wants you all to go back to the manor we visited tonight and figure out his name, then, and find out who the house slave is, as well," He smirked to himself as his shadows began to whisper incessantly to each other.
"Yes, Daddy," they all whispered obediently.
"Make Daddy proud," he laughed maniacally as the shadows all at once left his body, darting along the floor and walls as they began their endeavor to the Phantomhive manor.
Ciel: Sebastian, what is the meaning behind the name 'Cyril'?
Sebastian: It means 'Lordly', Young Master.
Ciel: Pfft, how arrogant.
Cyril: It isn't arrogance, my lovely terror. I am simply God.
Ciel: You're a demon. You can't be God and a demon.
Cyril: I AM GOD!
Ciel: Okay...-slowly backs away from the crazy-