Chapter Seven
Professor Hughes Comes for a Visit
Summer 2002
Cressida stepped back from the boy demons' seemingly lifeless body, and collapsed into an armchair, her skin pasty white and her thick black hair tousled.
Sebastian simply watched as tears rolled from her eyes over her fair skin. Bored as he was, he held out his handkerchief.
"A gentlemanly demon," She snorted, eyeing him. She snatched the cloth from his hand, and dabbed at her eyes.
Sebastian's eyes swiveled to where his young master lay on the couch. His breathing hitched in his throat every so often, and his skin dripped with sweat.
"Olive is trapped in your friends' memories." Cressida said, pulling out a cigarette from a carton.
She fumbled with lighting her fingers, before ultimately throwing the unlit cigarette onto the linoleum floor.
"The Door repelled her, because he was holding onto her. She was cast into his cinematic record. Messing with memories is dangerous for both of them. Olive is trapped in a state of reality and unreality. What she experiences is not real, yet real. The history which this demon-child knows is being rewritten; he is struggling to understand it all… They'll both be driven to insanity if they aren't careful."
Sebastian's face hardened. "My Young Master has always been too eager a hunter." He replied, placing the back of his bare hand against the boys' right eye. The contract glowed slightly against his oily skin.
Cressida pressed a sharp object against the back of his head.
She dug the tip of her wand into his skin. "What do you think you're doing?" She growled, her eyes narrowing.
Sebastian smirked, and pulled back. Cressida kept the wand pointed between his eyes. For a woman she was rather tall and masculine-looking, though the shape of her waist and bosom revealed her gender.
"My master is incapacitated, which subsequently defers our contract. Until he awakens, I shall enjoy my freedom." He explained, that pleasant smile ever-so-present on his angled face.
He knew well the boys' demon soul would overpower the girls' – no matter if she were a witch, she would die. He would have to enjoy himself as much as he could until then.
"Do I look like a babysitter to you?" Cressida snarled. The fireplace next to them growled with her, and probed for Sebastian, devouring his suit as a result. His eyebrow ticked. It was his favorite suit: an expensive, irreplaceable Armani.
"You look like a mother." Sebastian replied calmly. He wiped away the fiery flicks with his hand like they were nothing more than specks of dust. "It is what makes you weak. Affection is a weakness, which I gladly deny myself. I have suffered 114 years with this brat. The hour is takes to overwhelm your offspring's soul is time I've been neglected." He explained casually.
Cressida bit down hard, grinding her teeth. She wanted to hit the man. In fact, she very well wanted to kill him right then, but she was outmatched. It would take at least three powerful magic-doers to kill such an old demon.
"Surely there must be something even you could love. You did go through all the trouble to turn this child, regardless of the fact child demons are like child vampires. Their hunger is never satisfied, and they put everyone around them at risk because of their lack of self-control! The Council would have your head if such a thing were to occur under your jurisdiction. In fact, I wouldn't mind having your head as a mantelpiece above my fireplace." She spat.
Sebastian's mouth formed a thin line. "You are unacquainted with my master, Mrs. Carlisle, as I am unacquainted with this magical group therapy committee you speak of. Alas, my young master is rather disciplined." He hesitated a moment. "Though I must acknowledge I did not turn him, as I am far more humane than he. I have not harmed a single hair on your head, or your daughters', which proves how agreeable a monster I am." He closed his eyes and smiled, grimly.
"I wouldn't give you that much credit." Cressida stated, though she clearly remembered the creature which Olive had been so mesmerized by. It was so evil that Olive's eyes had begun to turn red and shrivel. Cressida had tried to embrace her daughter, but the moment she lost control of her spell… Perhaps she was weak, as the demon said. "I… cannot do this without you." She admitted through clenched teeth.
Sebastian lifted her chin to meet his gaze, smiling wickedly. "My services are not free, you realize." He said silkily, moving his hand to her cheek. Her soft skin burned against his, which was to be expected. The Randolph's were known for their elevated body heat.
Cressida slapped his hand away. "I will not give you my soul." She responded, earning her an annoyed stare.
"I can feel young demons approaching. They are plotting, and intend on overwhelming you. We have very little time, Mrs. Carlisle." Glass shattered. "You should make your decision quickly."
"They can overwhelm you, too!" She cried, zapping the hungry creature which came on all fours toward Ciel. It fell to the ground, dead. The expression on its face was so horrific, Cressida felt a wave of nausea pass through her.
She heard more of them tumbling upstairs, causing her eyes to widen in fear.
"It is highly unlikely." Sebastian replied, watching her expression change from confidence to horror in a matter of seconds. It amused him how quickly and suddenly a human could fall, especially a Gifted one. They were raised believing they never could fail, and when the time came when success was impossible, there disappointment was delectable.
A demon lunged towards her, knocking her to the ground and sending her wand across the room.
Sebastian picked up the ravenous monster by the nape of its neck, and snapped its back like it was nothing more than a twig.
"My master has made many enemies over the years." He sighed, tossing the limp carcass to the hardwood floor. The spell on the house was starting to flicker out again, turning it back to the fire-burnt home it once was.
Cressida forced herself off the ground, and snatched up her wand, wincing at the pain the action caused her. "W-We shall discuss business later!" She declared, stumbling to his side. "Agreed?" She breathed, when he didn't answer. She no longer seemed afraid; that displaced confidence had returned.
Sebastian took notice of her sprained wrist. She is useless. Alas, I suppose the Young Master would be rather upset if he lost limbs, though perhaps it would add character.
His eyes shone a bright, vibrant crimson, and his teeth and claws sharpened as he prepared for a kill. "For now I shall agree to these terms, Mrs. Carlisle."
"It's Ms. C-"
He didn't allow her to finish.
His fist collided with her head, and to the ground she went, into unconsciousness.
The hoard of bright red and yellow eyes hovered around the room, blotting out all light, with the exception of the dying, flickering fire.
Sebastian's eyebrow rose. "And here I thought you learnt your lesson from our last encounter. I suppose a price has been put on our heads yet again. To think the Demon Mafia would go to such great lengths to eliminate a child."
"Kill the boy!" One of the demons snarled.
The fire dimmed until the room was shrouded in complete and total darkness.
It was then that the screams started.
Summer 1888
"Professor Hughes," Sebastian acknowledged as the said man exited his carriage. He was short and fat with a pink complexion; in other words, he resembled a pig. In front of the 'vehicle' was a group of six horses. It seemed to need that many to pull this pudgy bastard around. "I do hope the journey from London through the country was enjoyable."
"It was dreadful. I must digress, however, that the weather in the country has cooled down far more than London. There are simply far too many people producing far too many obnoxious gasses. Surely the Earl would agree with me." The Professor replied, dabbing his oily skin with a handkerchief.
"Indeed, Sir." Sebastian responded, smirking a little. "The Master is outside at the moment, awaiting your arrival."
"In this heat?" Hughes guffawed, his turkey neck wiggling. "Only a child could conquer the battle between the suns' rays."
This man is simply full of…riddles. He thought, drearily. Perhaps if you resisted Turkish delight, you pig of a man, you would find the weather more tolerable.
"Indeed…" Sebastian finally responded.
"I dare say this place is quite dirty. Her Grace, Lady Margaret de Berg, resides a relatable distance from here, as I am sure anyone of polite society is aware. Her servants maintain the mansion to a pristine condition, not a thing out of place. Perhaps they could relay advice to those here." Hughes rambled, muttering the last part into his handkerchief.
Sebastian's eyebrow ticked. "Follow me this way, Sir." He instructed.
Ciel enjoyed the view from the patio. It was peaceful, and, with the light breeze and shade provided by the manor, simply perfect. He slouched in the chair (his body still ached from being thrown from that beast earlier in the morning).
Clove had been miraculously healed of his blindness, and Ciel was able to pet him (something he couldn't do before, since the vicious beast would try to bite at his fingers every time he tried).
"Is that girl some sort of healer or horse psychiatrist?" He wondered to himself, placing his chin against the palm of his hand. She was a mystery, that one.
Olive had been right about one thing: if Ciel learned to ride Clove, he would most definitely be viewed as a true Phantomhive (considering that Clove's grandfather had been Ciel's great-grandfathers' horse).
But saying so was completely out of her place. Besides, even if the damned creature rejected him, Ciel was a Phantomhive. Inside, though, he desperately wanted to be able to ride Clove. This irritated him nonetheless, since Olive essentially knew something personal about him. No one knew Ciel Phantomhive. He was a ghost. A figure as opaque as a perfect window. But he was still human.
Around the young earl were trees, lush green grass, and a pond with water lilies far in the distance. If he remained quiet, he could distantly here ducks and their ducklings playing amongst the water. Hunting season was upon this family, unbeknownst to them.
From his cruel dose of life, he appreciated the ignorance of such animals.
At times, he wondered if it were possible to turn a blind eye to his revenge as simple as a duck could with a hunter.
He knew well he couldn't. With or without the contract condemning him to death, he would search out those to justify his hatred and bitterness. He would provide the same cruel treatment to those who killed his parents, and he would not give up until they suffered just as he had.
No matter how Ciel worded it, he was not heroic or justified. Only his future self, the one in our dear Olive's head, realized this, though.
Clove neighed, signaling the approach of the butler, and Ciel's posture automatically straightened.
"Professor Hughes, Milord." Sebastian approached the patio. Lumbering behind him was the fat Professor.
"Hello Milord…" The fat-man heaved, causing Ciel to smirk.
"You are late, Professor." He greeted, holding back his laughter at the sight of the red-faced porker. The man went to reply, but Ciel defused him, "How is the Lord Falmouth?"
"Q-Quite well… He passes his sincerest apologies that he could not be here for this meeting regarding the sire." Hughes rambled, collapsing in a chair next to Ciel.
It screeched in agony at the atrocious weight of the man. He dabbed at his balding head with a handkerchief.
"Her Grace, Lady Margaret de Berg, has written you, I hope?" He inquired.
"Yes, a number of times." Ciel responded as he repeatedly twisted his ring around his pinky finger. Might as well get this over with. "I was preoccupied with the summer festivities. You will pass my answer on to her."
"I will indeed, Milord." Hughes consented. How dare the little brat tell me what to do, he thought, eyeing Clove as he trotted through the high grass. "He is a fine horse, but I was under the impression he was blind. Her Grace, Lady Margaret de Berg, was the only potential buyer for that very reason."
"He was. Blind, that is." Ciel replied, smartly. He smirked at Hughes' baffled expression. "His eyesight has improved exponentially. That being the case, I will no longer be in need of your or Lady Margaret's services."
"You aren't going to sell him?" The professors' face fell.
"Actually, I have grown rather fond of the beast." Ciel lied. He hated the creature, but... that filthy girl seemed to like the filthy horse. He might as well keep it around, so she wouldn't blow up another part of his manor. She seemed like one of those types: the kind who got themselves into trouble.
Hughes narrowed his eyes. "We had an agreement." He snarled, standing up. The chair, which had been stuck around his hips, fell to the ground with a loud thud. "I sell the bloody horse for you and you bloody well pay me for a job well done!" His Yorkshire accent was heavy in his heightened tone.
"A job well done?" Ciel snorted, standing. "It took you an entire year to find Lady Margaret as a buyer, and you expect me to believe your job was well done? Do you take me for an idiot?" He glared down the man.
"We had a deal!" Hughes shouted, and Ciel smiled one of those rare, arrogant smiles.
"You and Lady Margaret had a deal. Do give the gambling bat my most sincere of regrets."
"Why you little…!"
"Sebastian, show the morbidly obese Professor Hughes to his carriage, and spare carrots to the steeds. I imagine they don't eat much if anything at all."
"Yes, Milord." Sebastian replied, dutifully. He latched onto the professors' arm, and practically dragged him off the balcony.
"Her Grace will not be happy about this, you little bastard!" Hughes yelled. "She will have your little prick on a platter!"
Ciel's face scrunched up, indignantly. "Sebastian."
CRACK!
Hughes let out a pained scream.
"Was that a pig? Screaming just now?" Bard wondered, throwing his cigarette butt to the ground.
Finni shrugged in response.
MEANWHILE...
"Why go through all that trouble?" El wondered, irritably.
"What trouble?" Olive asked as she used a scrub-brush on the dirt-coated steps. Her hands and back ached at the thought of having to scrub the floors of the entire entrance hall. This 'scullery maid' shtick wasn't working out, so, in her presumptuous mind, she was already putting into the works her 'escape plan.' Not that Ciel necessarily agreed.
"None of your concern. You don't listen to me anyway," Responded the demon in that cool-headed voice of his.
Olive huffed, indignantly. Why was he suddenly being so surly towards her? Was it her plan? No, it couldn't be her plan. That was the least of their problems.
Her back brushed against the wall, until her entire body rested on it. "I'm so tired…" She groaned, closing her eyes and wiping at the sweat on her brow.
"It's only been twenty minutes!" El sneered.
"Urg… If I had my wand, I could…"
"Don't even think about it! The last time you tried to use it, you blew up half of my manor!"
"Well, someone had to remove that boulder! Oh, and, by the way, this isn't your manor anymore!" She snapped, folding her arms across her chest. "It'd be a whole lot easier if I could wear my clothes…"
"Those clothes were disgusting, and stop whining."
"Oh, just shut up." She stared at the sunlight through the window, dreamily. "What exactly did you do to Clove?"
"I sold him." Ciel replied hastily. "To a wealthy noble, whose name, I can't for the life of me, remember. He reproduced some of the finest."
"Why?" Olive demanded. "He's a good horse!"
"A useless horse who rejects his master is not a respectable horse. If I kept the creature, I would be viewed as soft. And what if I had been thrown off during a hunt? I'd be the laughingstock of London!" He cried, shivering at the thought.
"Back to work, Miss Olivia." Mey-Rin instructed, nudging the girl with the tip of her boot. The bespectacled head-maid smiled, kindly. "M' sorry you 'ave to do this all by yourself, but Mister Sebastian insisted."
"That's okay, and you can just call me Olive." Olive consented, forcing herself to smile, though it hurt to do so. Mey-Rin had been tugging on her cheeks since they met, because she apparently found her 'so cute'.
"I really can see the resemblance between you and Mister Sebastian!" Mey-Rin exclaimed, blushing. She grasped Olive's soapy hands. "If you ever need anyone to talk to, please don't hesitate to come to me! I know it must be hard to have lost your mother at such a young age!"
Olive's eye twitched. How much of a backstory did that creepy guy come up with? Bard called for red-haired maid, and she gave an affirming nod to the young witch, before departing towards the kitchen.
"…I am your protection from the Young Master. At some point, I will reap my payment, but for now think of me as your… knight in shining armor, if you will."
Olive shivered as that memory returned to her. What sort of payment did he have in mind? She decided not to think on it too much. Her protection was the fact she was only a half-blood.
"What exactly is a half-blood?" El wondered, curiously.
Olive grabbed the scrub brush from the bucket, and began scrubbing the steps again. "It's when a witch or wizard reproduces with a human. Their child is known as a half-blood, because human blood is more potent than witch or wizard blood. One writer referred to it as being a 'mud-blood,' which is a common term in Europe. It's uncommon for things like that to happen, though." She explained quietly.
"It all comes down to blood, does it?"
"It's more than that. Blood defines us. From the stories, the Families began trusting each other after many centuries passed, and the younger generation began spawning the next generation of witches and wizards. Sebastian wasn't far off when he said he hasn't seen a witch or wizard in over three hundred years. They all went into hiding around the time of the burnings."
"You know quite a bit of history for a little girl." Sebastian mused, breathing seductively into her ear.
Olive knocked over the bucket in her fright, causing him to chuckle. "…My grandparents told me stories." She spluttered, using her apron to dab at the water. It seeped into a loose board (the wine cellar, she presumed), causing her to sigh, angrily. "Don't sneak up on me anymore please."
Sebastian gleamed. "Even when tempered, you remain such a polite little mouse." He stroked her short brown hair, causing her to stiffen. "You will have to trust me one day, if we are to be a family."
"Families don't enslave each other… They tell stories about our distant relatives. It's what we…" Her eyes widened. "My relatives…?"
"I see. Well, I shall read you a story before bed tonight." He decided, ignoring the girls' plotting expression.
He prepared to walk away, but paused in the doorway.
"The Young Master has considered making a trip to London tomorrow. Perhaps you might wish to accompany us." Sebastian suggested. "You are in desperate need of a uniform that actually fits. You will have to reimburse Mey-Rin for ruining hers." He added, condescendingly.
"Please tell me you are not going to try to find those relatives of yours…" El imposed in Olive's active, racing thoughts.
He hated where all this was heading towards. He was still the kind of person that waited for people to approach him. Let the mouse fall into the trap, so to speak.
She smiled, ignoring her associate. "I'd love to join you guys!"
Sebastian jerked his head once, before leaving the room. "Tanaka," He signaled to the old man, who was presumably behind the wall. Olive flinched. She hadn't even seen him! Had he been there that whole time? "Prepare lemonade. The Young Master has company in the afternoon."
"Ho ho ho…" replied the old butler. Once Sebastian left, Tanaka's sparkling eyes wandered over to Olive. "Are you to visit these relatives in London, child?" He asked, causing Olive to bristle. "I will not breathe a word to the Young Master, if that is what worries you."
She frowned. "Not exactly him."
"Sebastian is fond of you. He does not seem the type to explore attachments easily, if at all. He is an odd fellow." Tanaka explained, setting his green cup down on the ground. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "It would make him very sad if you went to live with another family."
"I don't think I could if I tried..." Olive admitted, inching away from the man. His breath reeked of green tea! "My uncle wouldn't know who I am… We've actually never met." And I don't think Sebastian would ever let me leave. She thought bitterly.
Tanaka's eyebrows knitted together. "Blood does indeed define who we are. It defines the Young Master, who lost his parents at a very young age, and it defines you, whoever you are. However, we should fight against this definition, this identity, for the sake of spontaneity and excitement." He smiled wisely. He suddenly collapsed to the ground. "Ho ho ho."
Is he alright? Olive wondered, blinking.
"He is out of energy." El responded dryly.
NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW:
Margaret smiled at Professor Hughes. It was too sweet of a smile. Behind it, he knew, it was filled with fierce rage. She was not angry about the horse. No, rather, she was angry with him.
"Your incompetence astounds me, Professor." She said softly. She stroked Kiano's white fur, and the lions' purrs echoed through the room. "I did not wish to mate my mare with just any sire. The Phantomhive's won the past Queens' affections due to their equestrian skills. You realize that such a match would have been to your benefit as well."
"Yes, Your Grace…" Hughes muttered. Dirty tears were strewn over his face. "If you give me another chance, I can get the horse…"
Margaret snapped her fingers, and Kiano stood up on all fours. He stalked towards Hughes, and the fat man shivered. The creature breathed onto his face. "I am feeling merciful today. See that you do, Mr. Hughes. I care little for the horse, so once you have it in your possession send it to the factory. Rather, think this a test of your abilities. If you fail, I will have to punish you."
Hughes took a deep, nervous breath. "W-What will you do, Milady?" He said in a voice as low as a whisper.
"Are you suggesting I ponder on it? I have full faith in your…less than agreeable abilities, Mr. Hughes." Margaret mused.
"B-B-But, Milady… the butler there… he's not human… I don't know if… I mean, blimey, look at what he did to my arm!" Hughes held up the bandaged limb.
Margaret suddenly appeared in front of him, and pressed her hands to his arm. His eyes widened in horror as it disappeared, leaving only his elbow. He let out a cry.
Her seething amber eyes glared down at him. "I can do much worse to you, if you fail, Mr. Hughes." She hissed, holding up his severed limb. She tossed it over to Kiano, who swallowed it whole.
"No!" Hughes wept, reaching out for the limb.
Margaret stepped on his outstretched hand.
"Unless you want to lose your other arm, I suggest you leave." Margaret sighed, sadly. She knelt down to the grubby professor. "I am a compassionate woman, Mr. Hughes. Once you complete your task, I shall return your arm to you, and make you richer than the Queen. Haven't you ever heard that a happy witch is a good witch?" She smiled, revealing her perfectly white teeth.
Hughes nodded, silently. "Yes, Milady… I shall do what you ask…"
"What I require, Mr. Hughes." Margaret corrected, returning to her couch. "Noah, show Mr. Hughes to the exit. He is quite ready to leave."
Red eyes appeared from the dark corner of the room. A teenage boy in a white butlers' uniform appeared. "This way, Mr. Hughes." He said in a steady, venomous tone, ignoring the vicious growl erupting from Kiano's throat.
Hughes scrambled up, and rushed towards the parlor door. He bowed his head once in the direction of Margaret, who responded with a glare.
"Oh, and Noah," Margaret called in a sing-song voice. "Kiano is famished. Bring one of Mr. Hughes horses. Alive."
"Yes, Milady." Replied the boy, his red eyes glowing in the dark crevice of the hallway.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
So, I know I added two OC's, but let me defend myself! Professor Hughes is a character in the manga, but (as far as I know) never elaborated on further. He is an authority in Knightcraft. So, I figured ("what the heck?!"), and made him the secret informant of the mysterious, avid horse-racing fan and gambler: Duchess Margaret de Berg. She will play a VERY relevant role in the story, so I hope you guys like her/hate her whatever.
As mentioned by 'El', he actually sold the horse to Margaret (this was in his "Original Memories", which are now being rewritten as Cressida so eloquently put it). However, in this multiverse, Ciel does not sell the horse and earns himself, and later Olive, a new enemy: Margaret, another witch, and her white-clad butler, Noah.
And, yes. Yes I did make a reference to J.K. Rowling. There. Take that.
I really tried to make this chapter as vivid and 'gory' as possible, but I usually fail in that respect. So, please REVIEW and tell me where I need to improve. If any of this was confusing, please let me know and I'll explain in the next chapter!
The Next Chapter will introduce the 'Randolph' family. Does that name sound familiar yet? Does it? Does it? Huh? Huh? Huh!?
