Hallucinogens- Part One
I can't recall the name of my surroundings, all I can recall is being here before. A long time ago. A stairway with a landing in the middle of it, where I am sitting. The walls and ceiling are white, the double doors at the top and bottom are a steel grey. A steel railing cuts through the middle of the steps. Everything is cold.
"Would you kill him again, if you had the chance?" I turn when he asks me the question. He is wearing blue today, like everyday.
"Of course, Master. He stole you from me." I answer, my voice apathetic. I don't move from where I sit, choosing instead to stare at the wall. Ciel continues standing at the bottom; I can feel him staring up at me. I look back at him, wondering what he wants. He looks relaxed for once, not on edge like he used to be, not holding himself up like Earls were supposed to. It is unsual, strange, and doesn't suit him. We stare at each other for a while, not talking or moving. Finally, he sighs, looking toward the top of the stairs. I don't have to look to know who it is.
"Want me to kill him, Master?" I ask quietly. But Ciel doesn't even look at me, he doesn't speak. He is still as a statue. This entire place is wrong, but I feel a certain peace with it. I turn to Claude.
"You shouldn't be here," I say smoothly. I know he SHOULDN'T, but I can't remember WHY. But it isn't important right now. At least, I don't think.
"What are you doing here?" He asks me, ignoring my statement.
"I don't know. I can't remember why I got here." I look back at the wall. "I don't belong here."
I am absolutely determined not to sleep, only to focus on escaping. My train of thought is redundant though. All I think is escape, with no proper plan, no way of actually doing it. Like an animal in a cage. My inner demon wants to tear down the walls, and, maybe, find Ciel. I might be using 'maybe' excessively too. Plus, my hand is still red, as are my clothes.
Whatever the light source is, it flickers on and off again. I freeze my pacing, looking around. Nothing is out of place. I am not hallucinating, there is no other scenery, besides the boxed in room, the steel bed and desk. The door. I start pacing again, slowly this time, listening for something.
The lights turn off, then back on. It occurs to me that, since I can see in the dark, it should be no problem. Yet it is, and it's unnerving. I don't stop moving though. What would happen if I pretended nothing is wrong?
Tick. A noise. Perhaps it is what is making eveything go black. Still, I keep up the slow shuffle. Tick. Everything goes dark, longer this time, before lighting up again. Maybe that is the way out? Through the darkness? Now I sound crazy. I already am, I suppose. No, I'm not. It is this place doing this to me, the demons, everything. I just need to maintain my sanity.
Tick.
It goes dark again, but I keep on going. Everything lights up again. Same room. Tick. Tick. Tick. My footsteps match the noise. Tick. Time feels like it inches by slowly. Giving up, I lean against the door, my back sliding down slowly until I am sitting. My hands lay by me lazily. Tick. Moving them, I slide my fingers under the door, but all they feel is cold metal and stone on both sides of them. Not moving, I close my eyes.
"This is ridiculous. Why lock your own kind away," I call out, praying someone hears me. The thought of praying brings a smile on my face.
"Anyone, listen to me. This is..." Closing my eyes and leaning my head against the door, I try to think. Ridiculous. Idiotic. Horrendous. I can't hink of a word to describe this situation.
Tick.
"This is..." I sigh angrily.
Tick.
"This is... absolutely annoying," I growl as I jump up, looking for that blasted noise. Tick. Angrily, I throw the thin matress onto the ground, ripping off the sheet. I tear the flimsy cushioning open, ripping through, finding nothing but fluff and feathers. Red scrapes like old paint on the white fabrics. I search through the sheet, effectively shredding it to pieces. Tick. I pause, then search through my pockets, looking for the source of the noise, before growling and going back to the door, looking under that small space. I can not see anything under it, nor on the other side of it.
Tick. I freeze, turning around, crawling to the bed. I let out a laugh, grabbing the object. A watch. My watch. Did I have it on me when I came in here? I am certain I didn't, or I would have noticed. My hand closes around the shiny metal, feeling it. Exhausted, but content that I found the source of the noise, I lay among the teared mattress and fabrics, closing my eyes.
"Tell me a story, Sebastian," Ciel orders. I nod, sitting on the edge of the bed. It is late, and he needs to be up early, but I don't say this. It isn't my place.
"A long time ago, there was a hunter, with one dog."
"What kind of dog? What was the name?" Ciel curls onto his side, pulling a pillow to his chest to hug tightly.
"Male, black wih soft brown eyes. His name was... demon."
"Demon?" Ciel frowns.
"Do you want to hear the story or not?" I ask, looking at him. He pouts and nods quietly. I look at the floor, continuing on.
"One day, they went out to hunt. The hunter was a poor man in the woods, living alone, except for the dog. One day, the hunter sees a rabbit. He lifts his gun, taking aim, when a crow appears, landing on a branch. Sleek and black, the crow calls out,
'Leave it, hunter. There are better things ahead.'
"Scared and surprised of the talking animal, the hunter obeys, moving on to find something else with his dog. A while later, he sees a doe. Happy, and thanking the bird silently, he lifts his gun, when the bird flys overhead, speaking once more. 'Leave it, hunter, there are better things ahead'. Confused, but not wanting to disobey, the hunter takes his chance. He moves on as the doe runs off, the dog still following the man. Some time passes, and the hunter finds a huge buffalo, already dead, having fallen off a cliff.
"Ecstatic, the hunter prepares to cut up some meat, glad to have found the animal. He is happy, knowing he and his dog will be fed for days, and the hunter can make use the the buffalos bones and hide. He didn't even have to waste a bullet. Suddenly, the bird flys by again.
'Leave it, hunter, for there are better things ahead.' The hunter scoffs, thinking, there can be nothing better than this large animal. But he doesn't want to disobey the talking crow. He gets an idea.
'I'll find somewhere to hide. When the wicked crow is gone, I shall go back for the animal.'"
I sigh and look at Ciel, who is starting to fall asleep, his eyes drooping. He pouts again, wiping at his eyes.
"Keep going, Sebastian. I want to know what happens."
"You are tired, Master. How about I tell you tomorrow? As a reward for the work you'll be doing." I get up, moving closer to him. I fluff his pillows and pull the blanket to his chin, and he settles down, closing his eyes. He rolls over onto his side, and I blow out the candles, waiting for him to fall asleep. When he is relaxed, his breathing steady, I leave to prepare for tomorrow. Every day is a busy day at the manor.
I feel like I want to throw a temper tantrum again. I am sitting at the dining table of Phantomhive manor, but everything is white. The only source of light comes through the windows, but it feels fake, artificial. It doesn't offer warmth; then again, I don't truly know what warmth is. Not really anyway. Claude sits all the way on the other end, but I can see him clearly through the distance between us. I don't want to be here, I know it can't be real. But this time, I won't run or fight. I need answers. My head feels clearer. I know there aren't any Masters here.
"Faustus."
"Michaelis," he answers calmly, leaning against the back of the chair.
"Where are we?"
"You don't know, so why should I know?" Only his mouth moves, like a ventriloquist doll, everything but the mouth still. He is wearing his butler clothes, the black suit, white shirt. Clean, too. Not like mine. I notice I don't have my jacket, but my shirt is still covered in blood.
"So... you imply that what you know, I know. So this isn't real," I look around, smirking to myself. "Of course, obviously it isn't real. But neither are you...?"
"I suppose."
"Is this purgatory? Limbo?"
"You know you're in Hell." Claude moves, a doll coming to life. He motions around us. "You should know this place, Michaelis. It is, after all, your design."
My design? Yes, I recognize the place. No, I did not design it. But I understand what he means.
"So, this really isfrom my mind. I suppose," I blink, looking around some more. The whiteness is unsettling. "Then you are not real. A figment of my imagination. The question is, why are you here? Why not someone else who means more to me?" I look back at Claude.
"You know why." Claude looks at the door, sighing. "Can you smell that? Food. The feast is ready."
I sniff the air. But there is nothing.
A/N: The story in this story was one I learned from a teacher. She said she heard it as a girl in Africa. Just thought I'd say that, I like giving credit where it is due.
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