Sound carried a long ways in the tunnels. For the most part, they were quiet, but for the last few months, the sounds of murmuring voices and things living down there had grown louder at night. People were living in the catacombs beneath Paris. Supernaturals. Those who couldn't pass for human or were simply trying to avoid the authorities hid down there and tried their best to live in peace, but there were still squabbles every so often. Mostly about how rogue vampires living down there put them all at risk.

"That fucker down the hall needs to get out before we're all fucking killed." grunted an ogre as he and a few others tried their best to cook the contents of a small can they found without getting smoked out by the small fire they had to start. "The honeybees could come in and sweep the tunnel any second..."

"We're probably not helping things." replied a faun with a broken horn. She coughed, pressing her fist to her mouth before trying to wave the smoke away. "People can probably see this from the street."

"Well, if we don't do it by a vent, we'll suffocate, won't we?" a third supernatural reminded. He was an orc with deep scars on one shaky hand. With his good one, he held out his chipped bowl for the ogre to scoop a spoonful of beans into. "All we can do is hope that they don't decide to come for us tonight, just like always."

"It would be easier if he wasn't here." the ogre grunted. "Going out there, killing humans, and then bringing them back here so they can kill us… If there was a pattern to the sweep, we might've been able to hide or something, but that just isn't gonna happen."

"I heard that there was talk of moving us to actual houses." the faun stated. "Like the humans live in."

"Why the hell would they do that? It's fine if we stay down here."

"But what if they did? Wouldn't that be a good thing?" she asked. "What if-"

"Stop bringing up the impossible." the orc said. "Just… stop it. It's not going to happen and if it did, it would be a scam..."

"Probably just a trick to round us up and mow us down." the ogre nodded. He handed the faun a bowl. "Here. Eat."

She didn't want to, but knew she'd regret it later if she didn't. Holding the bowl in both hands, she begrudgingly placed it to her lips. The beans weren't even cooked all of the way. She shuddered.

Then, with the sound of the crackling fire overlapping with the sound, she looked down the tunnel, hearing voices. "What's that?" she asked.

"What's what?" the ogre replied, downing his meal in one go. He listened as he chewed, facing the direction that the woman was looking in. "I don't hear anything."

"It sounds like voices."

"Like ours?" questioned the orc with a chuckle.

"No, no… It sounds… aggressive?"

"Probably someone finally giving that bastard a piece of their mind." suggested the orc, raising his bowl. "Good for them."

Then, all three of them heard a sound. It was a scream along with some snarling. The trio froze as they recognised it as the voice of the vampire, calling out for help. They listened for a while until everything went quiet. Then, the orc turned his attention back to his beans.

"He must've gotten jumped." he said. "Sucks to be him."

"Should we move?" asked the faun.

"Why? What do we have to give them if they show up?" the ogre answered with a question. "It'll be fine."

The other two sat normally, but the faun's gaze was steadily fixed down that corridor. All that met her gaze was nothing but the twisting blackness. Her body was stiff and she was unsure of the others' certainty, but she had nothing else to go by. Slowly, she began to relax as minutes passed and placed her bowl to her lips again. When she lowered it again, she saw something. A pair of dots in the dark.

Squinting to make sure her eyes weren't just playing tricks on her, she stared at the dots and watched as they bounced up and down. "Guys..." she began, "What is that?"

The others looked up again, furrowing their brows at the sight. "What do you want?" demanded the ogre. "We don't have anything! Get lost! Find a different tunnel!"

The dots grew larger as they bounced in place. The group could hear the sound of feet padding against the floor of the tunnel, growing faster and faster with each second. All three of them stood up, now. Whatever it was did not answer and was clearly not interested in talking. The ogre reached down and picked up the lamp beside him, reaching across the fire to turn the orc around and shoo the faun.

"Run!" he shouted, sparking the group to take off. Their hearts raced, pulse booming in their ears as adrenaline overtook them. None of them knew where they were going. There was only one narrow path until it branched out into a maze of potential dead ends.

The footsteps grew louder. The ogre looked behind him, shining the light at whatever it was that was following him. There was a flash of teeth and claws as the beast lunged at him, knocking him over and causing him to drop the lamp. The light went out, leaving the other two in complete darkness as they heard the sound of their friend screaming. Liquid spattered the walls and floor as the beast snarled, gnashing and tearing.

When the sun rose, all was quiet in the catacombs again. The rest of the world had not yet woken up and the underworld was sleeping. Before the city could come to spring fully to life again, a truck rolled up to an unassuming door—one of the many entrances to the below world. Opening the door, Johnathan hopped out. His shoes hitting the concrete and keys jingling in hand. Stopping in front of the door he paused to find the right key, trying one and then trying another before finally coaxing the door open and spilling blinding light where it shouldn't go.

"Get out." he instructed. "Hurry up. We don't want humans to see."

Bare feet padded up the steps and out onto the sidewalk. There, Brittany stood, her clothes in tatters, long hair matted and tangled, and blood spattered all over her body but concentrated on her face and hands. She stared ahead blankly with dark bags under her eyes. She said nothing. Her face said nothing. Her posture said nothing. Brittany felt nothing. She was numb to the world around her. She couldn't even feel shame for her partial nudity and didn't react at all when Johnathan put a blanket around her shoulders.

"Get in the truck." he ordered. Only then did she move.

Once she was situated, Johnathan got back in the truck and they moved on, heading back to headquarters. The streets of Paris were peaceful as people began to stir in their homes, the hum of the vehicle the supernaturals road in adding to the general ambiance of the world round them, bleeding together until they were completely invisible, all the while the vibrations of the vehicle coaxed Brittany's blood-caked body to give into exhaustion. That is, if Johnathan would let her.

"Stay awake." the demon said, snapping his fingers at her. "If you fall asleep before you can wash off, we'll take the hose to you and shave your head. You're absolutely disgusting. We can't tolerate our soldiers living in filth."

She didn't have a retort. She didn't have the energy or safety to reply. All she could do was force herself to stay awake for a while longer until she could finally collapse in on herself.

Once they arrived, she was escorted back to her room and watched to make sure that she followed through on her instructions before being allowed to be alone in the barren space. Johnathan stepped out into the hallway, running into Caesar, who was waiting on him. Mister Merritt's supernatural features were hidden, making him look like an ordinary human being as he stood there, leaning against the wall.

"Wow, you're harsh, aren't you?" the incubus asked with a slight bit of amusement in his tone. "I didn't know that werewolves actually attacked people like that."

"They usually don't, unless they're just terrible people, but they can be coaxed." Johnathan replied as the two of them began to walk. "All you have to do is starve them for a few days leading up to their transformation. She's learned her lesson for now. She won't talk for a good while."

"Well… Maybe it's for the best..." Caesar suggested. "Now she at least knows what happens when she crosses you. The others have no idea."

"I'd prefer to keep it that way for now. Keep the fiction going."

"Right… Their friend is missing because he's a traitor, right?"

"Precisely." Johnathan smiled. "I doubt he'll come back, so it'll work out. By the sounds of it, he's being well looked after in England. He's still useful that way."

"Are you hoping to use him as a spy?"

"If I have to… Or if I'm just feeling a bit curious about how 'big brother' is doing."

"Think Phantomhive will really come? It's an awfully big risk."

"If he doesn't, I'll just keep pushing buttons until he does. He can't ignore me forever."

Caesar had learned better than to question Johnathan's obsession with the Earl. It simply wasn't worth it. He would refuse to answer and then think of some ghastly punishment to inflict for the sin. The incubus wondered if Johnathan even had an answer to begin with. He was just fascinated, somehow. It wasn't any of Mister Merritt's business, though. He didn't mind keeping things that way so long as he was able to survive comfortably now. With his new body, though, that was complicated. Truly, the power of demons was terrifying. Caesar was brought back from near death, with a few perks granted to him, but there was also a price. There were things he could no longer do and things that he had to do, even if he didn't really feel like it. Then, there was the fact that the longer he was in that new body of his, the more things he realised about the creature walking down the hallway with him.

"Where will you fight the Earl?" Caesar asked. "I want to know so I'm out of the way."

"Depends on how he comes at me, I suppose." the demon replied with a smile. "It doesn't matter, really. As soon as he sets foot on French soil, he's mine. He won't be able to get away. He'll be a wanted supernatural. I'll send out the hounds and drag him to me kicking and screaming if I have to."

As he spoke, Caesar thought he saw a flicker of something in his eyes. It was unusual. Normally, they seemed lifeless, even when he was smiling. It was risky, but the incubus tried to see if he could sense anything from the demon once again. His kind could do that—they could tell what a person desires most. Once again, however, he could sense nothing. Whatever it was that Johnathan was feeling, it wasn't sexual, Caesar knew that. Just like always, he didn't have any sort of sexual appetite, just as he didn't have any sort of appetite at all.

It wasn't just one of these things, or even both of them together, however. That could be ordinary or explained away. It was everything. Everything about Johnathan just seemed "off," but the more Caesar stood beside him, another word came to mind: "Empty." The only thing that he seemed to hunger for was a fight with Ciel. Whenever thoughts of the Earl ran across Johnathan's mind, it was the only time, it seemed, that his eyes lit up. There was a spark inside of him that died once more whenever he had another task to attend to.

The demon smiled so brightly as he walked down those halls. There was joy behind his grin as he eagerly awaited the arrival of his beloved foe. He prayed that Ciel would not spare a single moment in departing as his yearning to be completely and utterly despised grew stronger with each passing day. He wanted to see the disgust in the Phantomhive's eye as the roaring flames of hatred inside of him grew. Their combined heat would set all of Paris ablaze! That is what Johnathan wanted. That is what he needed.

"I'm going to break him." he stated. "That is a promise."

But not all could dwell on such things. The impending battle caused much anxiety with both HELLSING and ORSAP, as neither of them really wanted to go through with such a thing. But, with the knowledge that Emil was indeed Johnathan, a demon who was wanted by HELLSING, they had a slight edge. The two remaining ministers, Quincampoix and Devreaux, stayed behind on British soil and had their families join them for the time being. They agreed to begin the appropriate processes in order to support the demons as they enforced the order to exterminate the unwanted presence. It wasn't a routine mission, however, so they knew that they had to be careful.

It was going to be covert. The meeting between HELLSING and ORSAP to ensure that measures were being taken for the well-being of France's supernatural population would have to wait for another time. The two ministers would have to actually go in and make sure that Johnathan did not impede the process, to start with, but in addition, going into ORSAP headquarters when they knew they were inevitably going to be framed as a threat by Johnathan was not a smart move.

Using one of HELLSING's more inconspicuous vehicles, they boarded the ferry while wearing faces that weren't their own. They posed as a family of English tourists. Ciel and Jim were middle-aged husband and wife despite a great deal of reluctance on Jim's part. He didn't like his role and Ciel looked awful with a mustache. The sunglasses the Earl wore with his ensemble made it look even more ridiculous, but it was necessary to cover his eye. Their look wouldn't be complete without Damien, however. He was the reluctant son dragged along on this "vacation." While he couldn't shapeshift, himself, Wink made him a glamour that was good for a few days. It could be taken off if need be, but for now, it stayed firmly in place. Between that and his cat skin belt, he should be alright in the disguise department.

He had an obligation to help as well, he thought. He was an agent of ORSAP—the only one not under Johnathan's control, so it was only right. Now, as to how this was going to go, he wasn't certain. He wasn't a seasoned supernatural agent like the two in the front seat of the car, so his nerves were a bit touchy. It wasn't at all ideal for an agent on an undercover mission, but the other two would support them however they could.

When they disembarked, they ran into their very first obstacle. Normally, there wasn't a military presence, here, yet a checkpoint was placed up ahead, stopping any cars with a United Kingdom sticker on them. They wore police uniforms, but the demons recognised them. Cops didn't move like that. Militias did. They had "officers" positioned in groups of four so that all sides of them were watched at all times. They scanned the area repeatedly within the span of a few minutes as the demons' car drew closer. Moreover, they had guns. Big guns. Those were not ordinary cop guns—special forces, maybe, but not for a little checkpoint like this one. The honeybee logo on their collars gave them away completely once the demons were right in front of them. Johnathan was looking for them, trying to make sure that they wouldn't get in without him knowing.

One of the agents tapped on the driver's side window, prompting Jim to roll it down. Peering into the car, the man looked the group over. "Sorry to bother you all, but we are on the lookout for a group of criminals." he said. American. Terrible French accent. Looking over at Ciel in the passenger seat, he gestured to a soldier standing on the opposite side of the car. "His glasses." he said.

"Sir, can you remove your glasses for us?" the other soldier asked as Ciel rolled down the window as well. Damien's anxiety spiked as the demon complied, unsure as to how Ciel intended to get out of this. Then, the Earl's eyes glowed red as his gaze met the agent's.

"The ones you're looking for aren't here." the Watchdog said as the crimson glow reflected in the eyes of the solder. Blinking, the other man stood upright and looked to the first agent.

"The ones we're looking for aren't here." he announced as the Phantomhive put his sunglasses back on.

"You're good to go, then." the first man stated. "Enjoy your trip.

"We will~!" Jim replied with a smile. With the windows rolled back up, they carried on their merry way.

It wasn't a very nice hotel that they stayed in, but it was discreet, it was available, and it didn't put a strain on the company funding. Ciel retrieved their keys from the front desk and led the others to their room. It was run down and the sanitation levels were questionable, but the demons didn't plan on actually using the bed. Their warlock friend, however, had the disadvantage of requiring sleep, so they encouraged him to bring his own sheets.

"What kind of place is this?!" Damien demanded. "I've never seen a hotel so disgusting! You have to bring your own sheets, there's no food… Who would pay for this for a whole night, let alone by the hour?! Who stays in a hotel for just an hour, anyway?!"

"You really aren't used to this sort of thing, are you?" Jim asked while shaking his head, having removed his disguise momentarily and sat down in one of the chairs. His husband, meanwhile, shut the curtains.

"Luxury is a privilege that those in our line of business are not always afforded." Ciel replied, taking the other chair. "There will be no nice hotel rooms, there will be no fancy dinners… Don't worry about food, but we musn't be conspicuous. If Johnathan catches wind of us being here, it will make things far more difficult than they have to be. Then you'll really not like the accommodations."

"Got it..." the warlock sighed. "It's not like I expected James Bond, or anything, but…"

"But you expected the James Bond level of class." the blonde interjected. "I've got you. When this all blows over, you should take yourself a little vacation. Class it up."

"In the meantime, things are going to be unpleasant." reiterated the Watchdog as they sat around in a group. Holding up a finger, he began to explain: "Here is how things are going to work from now on: Damien, you will sleep during the day. One of us will stay in the room with you so that you aren't on your own if this place is discovered. Right now, it will be Jim watching you while I go out."

"Where are you going? The hit isn't until tonight." Damien arched an eyebrow.

"Yes, but I need to meet an old acquaintance of mine. He'll give is an update on the other pieces in play."

"Ans what if he's in Johnathan's pocket, too?" Damien questioned. "How do you know it's safe?"

"I don't, but what I know of him is that he has little patience for supernaturals and their nonsense." the Watchdog replied, standing up again. "That makes him perfect, in this instance. I'll be back in about two hours. If I'm not back around that amount of time and haven't contacted you, assume things went awry. I'm not terribly worried, though. Afterwards, we'll wait here until it's time to move out. Is everyone understood?"

"Yes, my lord." Jim jokingly replied, blocking the other demon from kissing him on his way out. "Ew, not with that face..."

Dropping his disguise for just a moment, Ciel kissed his husband goodbye before reapplying it and checking it in the mirror on his way out. With that, Damien and Jim were left alone in the room together. The warlock tried to sleep like he was supposed to, but how could he in this situation? He was on a mission. People could die. He could die. Ciel could die within the next few hours. Gunmen could burst into the room at any moment and kill them. They could die on their outing that night. How could he sleep? How was it that while the demons were the foreigners, here, he was the one who felt like an alien in his own home country? Even back when he and his family were hiding from Iscariot, he hadn't felt quite like this.

He laid there, staring up at the ceiling before forcing his eyes closed. Sleep still would not come. His mind was far too busy.

"Sir Phantomhive?" he called out, still laying down with his eyes closed.

"Yeah?" Jim asked.

"How do you stay so calm about this? I can't fall asleep at all, but neither of you seem bothered..."

"We are bothered." the blonde answered. "A bit. Differently. We're used to this, y'know? We're just doing our job. It doesn't mean we're being careless, but… Well… I was going to say that 'it's not worth freaking out about,' but it kind of is. It's just that you get to the point where it doesn't scare you as much as it used to and that's a good thing. You can't let yourself panic on every mission."

"What about falling asleep?"

"Not sleeping will hurt you later on, so it's best to sleep now." Jim explained with a wave of his hand. "It's sort of like performing maintenance on yourself. If you don't take care of your other needs on a mission, then you can't do the job. Maybe you can, but you risk a lot more going in impaired. Look, if someone comes through the door, the window, the wall, whatever, you'll know. They're not going to be able to kill you in your sleep. If anything, I'll kill them first. Realistically, you're going to be fine right now, so relax. Go to sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens."

That was easy for him to say, Damien felt, but he also felt as though he understood things a bit better. These were demons, so they could afford to go around, feeling a little less afraid than other people. Damien thought that should make him feel less safe, but it helped somewhat. Even if those two were demons, just like Johnathan, they weren't at all like him. They seemed like people. They weren't "normal" by any means, but they seemed more "human" and it didn't seem faked. They were beautiful, but different. They were people once, just like him, ignorant to how horrible and cruel the world could be. Damien wondered if he would wind up like that one day. Part of him wished it would come soon. The rest of him, however, wished that it would never happen at all.


A/N: Greetings. I have returned to thee! I'm hoping to update faster, now that I don't really have much of an excuse to take so much time lol, but I can make no promises. I know not what the future holds.

Do I know if you can rent hotel rooms by the hour in Paris? No. Could I have asked? Absolutely yes. Did I? Nope~! I totally forgot when I had the opportunity. We... Love accuracy... It's... Delicious...

I want to talk about Johnathan soooooo baaaaaaadddd! I think everyone's figured out his deal by now. At least parts of it. I haven't gone into detail, but there is a bit of a pattern emerging, here, I think. I'll reveal more in a bit. I just... Want to blab about the things I think are cool! That's the hardest thing about this writing racket. You just want to spoil everything all of the time because you think it's just so NEAT.

Until the next chapter, my duckies~!