AN: long chapter, lots of gore, you are warned and I hope you enjoy.
The meeting was dull as he watched from the shadows as his Master manipulated his chess pieces. Sebastian wondered how many of them actually knew just how extremely tangled they were in the Earls webs, just how tightly they were wound with puppet strings jerking them along. He was well aware of the tightness of his bonds; he also knew that he had used similar puppet stings to strangle those that had sort to control him in the past.
He knew how his Master intended to play this game, and he was thoroughly unimpressed. What kind of twelve year old held themselves as bait and waited to get kidnapped? What kind of person also gave the strict order of no interference that used his other worldly powers? He was being told he could play with these ones; the Earl had given him a slightly longer leash than normal. The only restriction was that they had to suffer and he was not allowed to just rescue him as soon as he was taken, Sebastian had to at least make the semblance of going through the motions; even with his own personal demonic spin.
Yes, he was thoroughly unimpressed, and also absolutely itching to be able to have some fun with malleable humans without breaking the contract. It was rare but he really looked forward to those times when his master allowed him to sharpen his claws on human flesh. He would prefer to do it to the Earl but he would take what he could get.
Hearing that man's cold fear over the phone when he asked for the head of the Phantomhives, listening to Ciel bark like the dog he pretended to be and that Sebastian was made to act like, it had been satisfying in odd ways.
Watching those idiots in the car fall over the edge to crash and burn was rather anticlimactic, but something he wished the Earl would do in a slightly less literal way. He wondered what made them think that saying that it was just a job would have allowed them to live.
The best part had been entering that Manor. All those useless humans being broken by his hands, the marvellous crack of human bone twisted into powder, that delicious sound of metal thudding onto flesh and then the sound of bodies hitting the floor. He loved the glorious colour of blood on display and leaking from mouths after the internal organs had been scrambled, that sight of Phantomhive silver imbedded in bodies after easily sliding through skin and bone. The smell that was in the air, so much better to the demon than any perfume, fear and pain, blood and gun powder, that slight hint of fresh death and new decay, all or it hung heavy over everything. The panic of these pathetic humans was almost enough to send him in a frenzy it was so intoxicating.
But he was a Phantomhive butler, everything had to be performed on time and while maintaining self-order, besides the whole thing became repetitive after a while. He was quiet pleased with his appearance, though he had to keep checking the time and was rather disappointed in himself when he realised just how long he had taken, he needed more practice with timing, something he would have to mention to his Master when they got back.
His Master.
From the moment he had first passed the gates he could smell him, the smell of Ciel's spilt blood was something he was rather familiar with. The boy's presence called to him, pulling him ever closer to the room where he was detained, signalling like a beacon. Even with his entertainment the knowledge that his master was so close and injured was slightly distracting, he couldn't enjoy this violence as much as he would like.
Finally the majority of the vermin were exterminated and he was free to follow that pull, that contract, to find that fluttering flame that was his Masters soul. The smell of his blood was thicker now, with the slight undertone of something else.
When he entered the room the man's face had been amusing, what was not amusing was the rest of the room's occupants.
As a demon he prided himself on his ability to follow the contract, as a butler he prided himself on his ability to always keep a calm demeanour and polite smile when in the presence of others. These were the only things keeping him from destroying the man in front of him, that and the presence of more heartbeats behind one of the paintings.
If a Human entered the room and relied on their sense of sight they would have seen a man standing in the middle of the room with a gun in his hand and a bound boy lying behind him. For Sebastian his other superior senses created more of a story, his sense of smell in particular. He could smell his Masters blood all over the room, spatters of it, pools of it, streaks still clinging to his skin. He could smell his Masters blood all over this man with a gun, Mr Ferro, and more specifically on this despicable man's shoe.
This grime, this inferior rat, this insignificant Human had dared kick his master, dare stomp on him, committed a blasphemy of a similar nature to a mangy mutt trying to crush a diamond into dirt. How dare he to so to his property, his soul, his Master. But more important than the fact that this man had dared to tread on something so fine was the damage that action had done.
His master was dying.
The contract and all his senses confirmed it, the boy was conscious, bleeding internally with multiple broken bones. The undertone of something else was the scent of approaching death.
That pinprick of emotions started squirming rather annoyingly.
All this information he had from before he had even started talking. Now he had a role to play, the boy currently on floor had bound him by contract before this even began to follow that scenario. His master didn't live for violence, but he sure enjoyed playing with his pray; so like the cats the boy claimed to hate. Throughout the performance he kept all his senses trained on the Earl, if he got too close to death then order or no order by contract he would have to act.
And it all went according to plan, or almost. The part where he got shot because he was too focused on Ciel had not been part of the original lay out, but he could use it to his advantage. Ciel would not be happy, and he wished he could have saved his coat, but it would work in the end.
As he lay there with multiple bullets causing him no amount of discomfort he listened to that disgusting vermin trying to scare his master, heard him talking about selling the boy to market like the others had before. He wondered if the boy would have reacted if he didn't know that the demon was already there to prevent that from happening, if the fact that he was lying right next to him was the reason the boys heart didn't vary from it's even beat. He would have thought that even with his presence the threat of being treated in such a manner for the second time would have been enough to cause a slight stutter from fear.
The boy seemed to have the utmost confidence in his contract; either that or he was stronger than Sebastian already gave him credit for.
"That's because you were playing around you fool." Yes, his master wasn't happy, but it was his Master's fault for getting beaten half to death.
He wanted to break him, to tease and taunt and threaten to disobey, even though it wouldn't work. It was no longer about him breaking; it was about proving that he could not. The boy had planned this game well, but the demon had his own games.
The absolute reek of fear that man gave of when Sebastian responded, the way it increased when he so effortlessly killed the others, the way it got heavier and heavier as he and his master ignored the brute and continued on with their little games. Sebastian may have continued a little longer than he should have, but it was again his Masters fault. It was rather hard to enjoy the fear filling the air when the smell of death that was coming from boy was increasing as well.
He wasn't pleased when he could finally, forcefully, remove that offending, filthy arm from what belonged to him. He didn't feel a sense of relief when the broken and bloodied boy was safely enclosed in his arms. He didn't' feel pride at the dying child's complete look of boredom as he proclaimed the game "uninteresting".
The small, wiggling speck in his chest told him he was lying.
Listening to that man as he unbound his Master offended him. Hearing him babble on about all the worthless things he would give him to abandon the Earl was irritating. The man was so corrupt, it would be delicious but there was no tainting those that were already spoiled. It discussed him that the man was so use to the lack of loyalty that he just assumed that the demon could be bought.
It was satisfying to be able to kill in his true form, to practice all the skills he would use on the boy at the end of the contract.
An end that was not this day, the man's death wasn't the only thing he needed this form for.
Sebastian turned to the boy still sitting the chair. He had stayed conscious up until the man's heart had been eaten, but after that the pain had been too much. The scent of death now emanated from two locations, but it was the one that came from his master that concerned the demon. It was getting stronger.
He didn't have long now.
Gently, oh so gently, he removed the boy and lay him on the floor, careful not to injure him in this; his true form.
'Young Master, can you hear me?' no response, just the slow and steady heart beat pushing his blood into the pool bathing his organs and bringing him ever close to death. His heart was like the boy, sealing his own doom at his own pace.
'It is a good thing your unconscious,' Sebastian told the boy as he leaned over him and placed one of his "hands" over the boys abdomen, the place of the most damage. 'This would be rather unpleasant for you otherwise.'
Slowly he let his power flow through the contract, through the covenant, into the tiny being below him. He concentrated as it wrapped around the bruised organs, ruptured blood vessels, and broken bones. He felt it as his power knitted together the damaged flesh and removed the pooling blood. No change was visible outside, but inside the boy was being put back together piece by piece, brought back from the very brink.
If the boy had been awake the itching and burning of such a fast forced healing would not be something he could easily stand.
Finally, his work done, he shifted back into his human form with tatted cloths included and looked down at the boy now sleeping peacefully on the bloodstained floor. He was still battered and bruised but now it could be passed off as something you would get from tripping rather than tortured.
Smiling as he lifted his, now waking up, Master into his arms, and he tried to ignore the small amount of relief that he felt to have the boy safe in his arms away from those filthy scum.
And the small, squirming, speck of emotion got just that little bit bigger.
And that is the end of the first volume of the manga. Just so people know I am using the Yen Press English translation as my basis, so if the names or references are a little off from what you know that is probably why.