It is a dreary day in London. The skies are clouded and slate grey; the black shadow of a storm is rolling in with the cold, harsh winds.

Ciel walks along the cobblestones beside me, polished wooden cane in hand. "I hope this won't take long," I tell him. "I'd hate to get caught in the rain."

"I'm sure it will not," says Ciel, raising a small gloved hand for Sebastian, walking behind us, to hand him a file. "This man's name is Charles Ashworth. He is a nobleman who's just returned from a lengthy trip abroad. Rumor is that he's begun an organization for the protection of animals' rights. It isn't much of a lead, but right now, it's all we have to go on. Whether this man is our murderer or not, he may know something of importance."

We come to a stop outside a brownstone townhouse on the street corner. I can see dim lights flickering from within the upstairs windows.

Sebastian steps forward and pulls on the brass knocker. Almost instantly the red-painted door is thrown open by a startled maid.

"Is Lord Ashworth present at the moment?" asks Ciel. "I am the Earl Phantomhive. I require to speak with him on behalf of the Queen."

"Y-yes, follow me," says the timid maid, stepping aside to let us enter.

The interior of the townhouse is dim and largely empty, as if it has only been recently purchases and inhabited. The maid leads us down a hollow corridor and into a small drawing room where a red-haired man sits before a flaming hearth.

"My lord," mutters the maid. "The Earl Phantomhive is here to see you."

The red-haired man turns to face us. He takes a long drag on his cigar before speaking. "I was not expecting any visitors this evening," he says. You really should have called ahead, my lord."

"This is not a social call, Lord Ashworth," says Ciel. "I have a few questions for you regarding a string of recent murders in the London area."

"Murders?" says Lord Ashworth, adjusting the lapels of his tweed suit. "I'm afraid I know nothing about any murders."

"Really, now? Asks Ciel. "You've heard nothing about the violent deaths that have been occurring in this area? Animal attacks, I believe the papers are calling them."

"No. Well, you see, I've been out of the country until a few days ago. Since then I've been here, going over the necessary paperwork and expenses from my trip. I was overseas for months. There isn't any way I could have heard about these things."

"Yes, I've heard you are a marvelous businessman, Lord Ashworth. In fact, I've been hearing quite a lot about this little group you've started…"

"We are professional organization for the protection of animals," snaps the red-haired lord. He clears his throat. "I apologize for my crassness, my lord, but are you aware just exactly how the leather for your shoes is made? What is done to poor, defenseless creatures to line your coats with fur?"

"No," says Ciel. "But I know you are aware that your organization started a riot in a meatpacking plant in India a month ago. Twelve people died. Innocent men and women trying to make a living. Human being, Lord Ashworth."

Lord Ashworth snorts and turns back to the hearth. The crackling flames cast hideous shadows across his gaunt face. "I have no comment on that matter, except that I will do whatever it takes to further my cause, which I believe in wholeheartedly."

"Hmm," says Ciel. "Very well. Then tell me this, at least. Are any of your associates in London currently? Have any of them been here in the past week or so?"

"No, not that I am aware of. Most are still overseas…" Lord Ashworth pauses; he looks thoughtful for a moment. "Though, now that you mention it, there was a woman that came by a few nights ago. She said we were fighting for a similar cause, and asked if I'd join her in some animal rights protest…or something. Ach, I don't know. She was an odd one. Dressed all in black, a lace veil over her face, like she was in mourning. I told her I couldn't help her, that I'm already too busy with my own pursuits. I thought she just wanted my money."

"Did you catch anything else about her? Did she give you a name?"

"No," says Lord Ashworth, scratching the stubble on his chin. "Although, I think she was French. She had a but of an accent, though it was almost as if she was trying to hide the fact. Anyways, I've known my fair share of Frenchwomen…"

"I thank you for your time, Lord Ashworth," says Ciel. "We'll be going now." he turns to leave, Sebastian on his heels. I follow them out onto the street, just as the first heavy drops of rain splash to the ground. Up ahead the thunder roars in the sky.

"Oh," I say, touching my hand to my bare head, "I do believe I've lost my hat!" My black curls fly loosely around my head with the quickening wind.

"I can send Sebastian to look for it," says Ciel, over the force of the wind.

"That won't be necessary. I'm sure I just set it down in Lord Ashworth's house and forgot it. I insist you go on ahead. I will catch up with you in a moment."

Ciel nods curtly to me and continues walking down the street. Sebastian, loyally behind his young lord, turns once to give me a cold look, a numbed threat floating in those dark crimson eyes. Ah, but you won't do a thing about it, will you, dear Sebastian? You have your orders and I have mine.

When I am sure they are out of sight, I turn back to the townhouse. I don't bother to knock on the door, but simply let myself in. The meek little maid is nowhere to be seen. Perfect. I flit down the corridor and into the drawing room where Lord Ashworth is, just as I left him, smoking his cigar, He doesn't hear me enter.

I creep up behind Ashworth slowly, deliberately. I am the hunter and here is my prey. My arm snakes around his throat. Ashworth lets out a pitiful shriek.

"You should have kept your mouth shut," I hiss.

"That voice!" he gasps. I can see his bloodshot eyes widen. "I know that voice! You're the Frenchwoman-"

And then Lord Ashworth is silent and speaks no more.

I watch as his eyes roll back, revealing the white; I see the steady stream of scarlet life that flows from his neck, the tiny rivers that drizzle from the corner of his past, cracked lips. I wonder at the ecstasy of death. It has always seemed to me a pleasant experience, and I wonder if I will ever have the chance to experience it myself.

I grab my satin-lined hat from the floor where I dropped it. I can hear the maid's footsteps echoing down the corridor. Slinking through the shadows, I slip out the front door, just in time to hear the maid's shrill scream of terror.

On the street, the rain has just begun to fall, I hurry around the corner, away from the scene of my crime, and then I see him, standing in the street before me. Tall and still, and all in black.

"I have suspected for a while that you are the murderer," says Sebastian. The rain pours down around us. He hardly seems to notice the black strands of wet hair that are plastered to his face.

I am suddenly very cold. Why didn't you go back to the mansion, you fool? You'll ruin everything! I let out a nervous giggle. "I don't know what you mean," I say. My fingers crush around the soaking brim of my hat. "How could I be? The murders began last week and I have been in France until yesterday."

"Yes, that was what I though. And so I inquired with the French government, and they informed me that you have been out of the country since June, They lost track of your whereabouts until you officially arrived in England yesterday, But I suspect you have been here much longer, planning.

"I do tend to slip out form under the government's nose rather easily," I say. "That is your only evidence that I may be the murderer, though, hmm?"

"That, along with your aversion to meat, your talents of disguise, and your inability to walk into that warehouse yesterday. It all adds up to one thing, You are the murderer."

My breath catches in my throat. The rain is suddenly so loud, a torrential waterfall around me. "You're wrong. It isn't what you think…"

"But you are the murderer."

I can deny it no longer. I can still hear the maid screaming down the street. "Yes."

"Tell me one thing, my lady," Sebastian says quietly, darkly. "Why are you doing this?"

"I have a certain…disdain for people who harm animals."

"A certain disdain?" he repeats, questioning, clearly unconvinced.

"You might call it a burning hatred," I say, forcing a smile. "A dire need for vengeance."

Sebastian remains silent, his cold, measuring glance falling upon me. Go on, I think. Report to your master.

There is a sudden flash of lightning nearby. The light is blinding, so very close. I can nearly feel the heat. I shield my eyes, glancing away for a split second. When the flash is gone I look back up, and the street is empty.

Sebastian is gone.