It was quiet as the black cloak of night fell over the island and swallowed up the sun. There was not a single star in the sky, but occasionally, the moon could be seen and one found out why. The clouds were particularly thick on that freezing December night, dropping small flakes of snow down toward the earth. They accumulated, melted, and then froze before accumulating all over again, making the driveway up to Lexington's house slick and forcing staff to go outside to salt it.
After having trouble making it up the driveway by car, Johnnathan went by foot, walking in the snow rather than on the ice. He passed several workers, some of them faoladh who worked for Whelan and others were incubi and succubi who worked for Lexington. All of them were in a slightly worse off state than he was, as it seemed that they had been out there for a while before he got there. Snow stuck to their shoulders and hair. Some of them were visibly shivering as their breath came out in a dense mist. Some of them tried to help each other while Johnathan simply kept walking and listening to the sound of snow crunching beneath his feet.
"Here, put this on." said one of Whelan's people. They could be easily spotted because all of them were wearing capes. The woman removed her garment and put it over the shoulders of a very grateful incubus who was currently in the process of freezing.
"Th-th-thank you." he replied, taking a moment to pause from spreading the salt in order to recover. "Won't you be cold?"
"Nah. I've got fur." With that, the woman began loosening her clothing so that it wouldn't tear when she adopted a more wolf-like shape. Sure enough, when she transformed, she had thick fur that would keep her protected from the cold. Somehow, the realisation spread and others started doing as she did, sharing their capes and then transforming themselves. Fortunately, the area was secluded enough where a bunch of wolf-people and people with horns and tails wouldn't be spotted unless someone in the woods was watching them. Much like HELLSING was at that very moment.
Johnnathan was left out of this, however. He wanted no part. Somehow, he found the fact that they were working together so quickly annoying, but at the same time, he couldn't be mad at it. It was good to see allies working together without being instructed to do so. Perhaps his irritation was mere jealousy. His own allies left a bit to be desired.
No one in the higher ranks was truly on the same page when it came to the mission. Sir Lexington was only worried about his house and making sure it's upkeep was funded, while Lord Merritt only seemed to want to have a good time. The children of Abhartach and Whelan only went along with what they were obligated to, and for all Johannathan new, the old man could be a hostage. He didn't know because the man never spoke.
Upon reaching the house, his socks were wet from the snow and his hair was riddled with flakes. It's like when he walked in, the warmth radiating from the fireplace became blisteringly hot to the point where it felt cold as none of the group knew what to make of him, either. He wasn't like any of them at all. He was the least "human," as it seemed as though he felt nothing toward anything at all. He was hollow. He was missing a piece that caused the others to be slightly afraid of what it was he was seeking out to fill its place. When the demon walked in, his red eyes scanned the room as if challenging someone to speak up.
"Evening, everyone." he greeted. "I've just gotten done severing the last loose thread. Now, his majesty controls the wealth of all of the Philosophers. Not a moment too soon, either..."
"That's wonderful news, Mister Beattie." Sir Lexington replied. He smiled, but he didn't seem thrilled and Johnathan could only assume why. If Johnathan knew anything about Lexington, it was that he was seldom genuine. "What is it that you will be doing from now until invasion day, though?"
"Whatever it is his majesty wishes of me." Shaking some of the snow off, Johnathan paid no mind to how it landed on the carpet as he walked over to the liquor cabinet. The action caused the incubus to narrow his eyes into a glare for just a moment before Lexington collected himself.
"I would appreciate it if you would change your shoes first." the incubus informed. "You're tracking snow through the house."
"It's just water."
"And the dirt in the water, which gets into the carpet. That very same water, however, can seep into the wood of the floor beneath it, which I would rather like to avoid, as if that happens, it could damage it."
"Come on, Sir Lexington, it's just a bit of water..." nervously chuckled Farroel Whelan from the opposite sofa in an effort to diffuse the situation. Suddenly, his throat became very dry, forcing him to take a drink.
"It's not just the water. It's the principle." Stephane Lexington stated. "If I set no boundaries in my own home and fail to enforce the ones I do have, then everyone will walk all over me and this house will cease to stand!"
"I thought King Abhartach was King of the castle?" Questioned Johnathan, turning around before bringing his own glass to his lips. Casually, he leaned against the cabinet and let out a sigh when he brought his drink back down to elbow level. "That is the chain of command, isn't it?"
"He may rule over me, but the house is mine." spoke the incubus in a rather stern manner.
"I meant no offense." the demon answered, holding up his hands in a non-threatening fashion. "It was merely an observation. We all have our things we hold close to us. Things, people, values… houses. It is just the way things are."
Stephane felt as though the demon was being insincere. His assumption was correct, but he hadn't the power to call him out on it. There was no proof. Thus, he held his tongue and limited his response to a displeased look.
"Anyway… What about the mission?" Farroel asked in an attempt to change the subject. "Johnathan has gotten the last bit of the Philosophers under control, so what is the next course of action?"
"Judging by the fact that his majesty is continuing to amass wealth, I assume it's to collect more materials and people." the demon answered. "I believe that we're cutting it close, however. I have no doubt that HELLSING is already onto us and already preparing to stop us."
"Do you think they can?"
"I know so. As things are, they're still too powerful. If you want to make it out alive, we either strike quickly at their weak spots, or back out altogether."
"Be careful what you say, Johnathan." Stephane was quick to say. "You are also in the presence of the prince."
"I am unoffended." Phillip declared. He raised a hand to wave off Sir Lexington's concerns before turning back to Johnathan. "Explain your reasoning."
"It is true that our soldiers are all significantly stronger and more resistant to harm than theirs, but we must also take into account their own access to arms." the demon explained. "I've provided you with all I could and you've made up some of the difference, but the gap is still wide. We must also take into account the difference in experience. A lot of their forces have been to war before. At the very least, they've waged war against supernaturals. Most of our forces are above excellent in training, but their lack of a track record makes it it hard to predict how they will fare in actual combat."
"Indeed. We have accounted for this and are still trying to close that gap by use of your suggestions in targets."
"I am still not convinced."
"If you don't mind my asking, Mister Beattie..." began Farroel while folding his arms across his chest. As much as he tried to give the impression of neutrality in the conversation, Johnathan had struck a bit of a nerve. A significant chunk of those "inexperienced forces" on their side were Farroel's kinsmen and the underlings of his father. The faoladh, unfortunately, was sick with the same weakness of many others in the Whelan family: they were prideful. They took their duties with the utmost seriousness. "What exactly is your experience?"
"You already knew I worked for them. You also knew that I used to know people who deal arms. You already have a possible answer."
"Let me rephrase my question..." Mister Whelan began, looking down at his drink as he thought for a moment. Looking up to the demon again, he asked him: "If you're so concerned about the difference in power, why is it that you want us to move in now? More importantly, why don't you seem afraid? Mister Beattie, forgive me if I come across as accusing, but it's almost as though you actually feel excited about it?"
That raised a few eyebrows. A collective look of worry crossed the faces of every single person in that room. Farroel, Stephane, Caesar, Phillip, Evangeline, and even the old man and his caretaker. It was the most life that had been reflected in his eyes in a while, though nobody saw it. All eyes were instead on Johnathan as he stood there, drink in hand. At first, Mister Beattie didn't seem surprised in the slightest. His face was was like stone, firmly set in a rather unimpressed fashion, but with time, cracks began to form. Amusement appeared on his face as his muscles twitched before finally, he bared his teeth in a smile. Then, the ordinarily stoic man did something absolutely unthinkable.
He laughed. Howling, booming, laughter that shook his "allies" to their core as he threw his head back and laughed. It chilled the blood of his associates, rendering them unable to move. But then, he came to his senses and his laughter died down, leaving a smile on his face.
"You think I'm working for them, don't you?" Johnathan asked. "That I'm still loyal to HELLSING and have been gathering information to send to them, right? I'm afraid to burst your bubble, but that's an impossibility. I can't go back there. If I do, they'll most definitely kill me. They see my actions as 'inexcusable' and now I'm marked."
"What did you do?" asked Stephane, trying to maintain some sense of authority. "Johnathan, what did you do?"
"I stole a helicopter, fled my post, and killed the pilot once I was done with him." the demon said. "I had to get away from there. I needed to leave and think of a way to get back at their dog, and that's why I'm here. I know that if we raise enough hell, he'll come running. When that day comes, I'm going to crush him."
"Is that the man you told father about?" inquired Phillip. "This… 'Phantomhive' bloke?"
"Yeah." Johnathan replied, taking another drink. "Really, you should worry about him, too. The man's a monster- a real, honest-to-God, monster. When you stand in his way, he'll take everything from you. If he thinks he can use you, he'll play you for a fool. The bastard killed my father and killed my adoptive father after tricking me into helping him escape his own death. He even stole my humanity from me and made me a demon… Ciel Phantomhive… 'The Evil Earl...'"
He stared longingly into his glass, watching his reflection on the surface of the liquid inside. For once, he showed a genuine emotion around his comrades. Somehow, as terrifying as the man seemed, he also seemed rather sad. Looking up again, however, he stood up straight and began walking toward the group.
"Did you know that he was the one who took out the leader of that 'Scarlet Order' group that had been going around Scandinavia a while back?" he asked. "That guy hated Phantomhive's guts, too, because he got screwed over as well. Phantomhive took his humanity from him, too and turned him into a weird sort of 'in-between.' 'Omid' was his name, I believe. Killed him in cold blood. Worst part? They used to be good friends when they were at school together. At least, that's what Omid thought. Doesn't matter who you are, to Phantomhive. He'd probably off his own mother if he had to."
"Ngh!" grunted an unfamiliar voice, prompting the group's attention. It came from the old man. He sat off to the side of everyone, conspicuously out of their way in his wheelchair. The only one near him was a faoladh man who was trying his best to calm him down. The old man's eyes were wide and his breath was laboured as he reacted to Johnathan's words, causing the demon to wonder.
"Do you know a thing or two about Phantomhive, Mister Gardener?" Johnathan questioned with an arched brow. "I hear he screwed quite a few people over during the war. Killed people on the other side and ours. Were you one of 'em?"
The old man said nothing as the demon approached, instead choosing to focus on calming his breathing even as the demon bent down so he was on his level. They stared into each others eyes, one with a hint of curiosity, while the other seemed furious. It was the old man whose anger intrigued the demon.
"I see that look of yours." Mister Beattie pointed out. "I see that you're mad. Be mad. If you're angry at Phantomhive, you can have him when I'm done with him. Just wait a while before you kill him, though. I want him to suffer, first."
Standing up straight again, Johnathan nodded. "I want him to lose everything he holds dear. Everything he finds important. I won't kill him. I'll kill his family, instead. I'll kill his friends, next. I'll burn his home to the ground and sack it for family heirlooms. I'll wave them in front of his face. I'll put the heads of those he loves on sticks and make him stare into their eyes. I'll make him suffer the greatest acts of humiliation that I can think of. Then, I'll leave him broken and powerless. I don't even care if I die in the process. So long as Phantomhive feels pain, I've won. If you want him, old man, have him. Just wait until I've had my revenge, first. If you get in my way, I'll kill you. And I won't shed a single tear."
Mister Gardener was digging his fingernails into the armrests of his chair. He was obviously upset, but nobody save for his caretaker really seemed bothered. "I'm going to take you somewhere else to calm down." the caretaker said softly before grabbing the handles to the back of the chair. Carefully, he rolled the man our of the room away from Johnathan, but the demon seemed only amused.
"Wonder what his plan is." Johnathan asked aloud. Only one person was brave enough to answer him, though.
"Doubt he has one." Lord Merritt stated with a shrug. "I don't even know if he thinks."
"You work with him, though. Surely you know something."
"I take samples from him and clone him. There's hardly a similarity, there." Caesar pointed out. "But what exactly is your plan? Lure Phantomhive out of hiding and hope something happens?"
"No, I have a plan. A lot of it coincides with your plan, actually. Those points I indicated to you lot also happen to be relevant to my interests." Johnathan informed. "Don't get me wrong, it's mutually beneficial. Keeping Phantomhive out of the fray will do you wonders if you ever want a chance of winning. He's one of HELLSING's trump cards. You can't fuck around with him."
"Is he really that dangerous?" Whelan questioned. "He's taken out a group, before, but..."
"No. He's taken out several. The Scarlet Order, The Belmont Organisation, Ceberus… and even the group I used to work for before he tricked me into defecting. He took out my father's arms dealing company, too, resulting in his death. All of that is from the few short years that I've known him. He's been on countless missions defending the crown countless times. He has this down so well that it's just another day at the office for him. If we don't get rid of him, he'll waltz right up to us and wipe us out in an afternoon. That's a guarantee."
The group still didn't seem convinced as the demon didn't quite seem to be "all there" as he spoke. He hated Phantomhive, yet it seemed like he was praising him, somehow. He said that he killed his family, yet why did he seem more excited than upset? It made no sense. More pressingly, Johnathan said that he had switched sides once before.
"How do we know that you're not going to trade sides again?" the incubus inquired, finally breaking his silence. "If you wanted, you could turn us all in right now. So why don't you?"
"It wouldn't help me any. I want Phantomhive, not to help HELLSING. Besides, they're already staking the place out. They're just in the trees, beyond your sight."
"Now I know you're making stuff up!" Farroel declared. Abruptly, he stood up, puffing out his chest as he furrowed his brow. "My soldiers would have sniffed them out by now if you weren't!"
"They've been hunting supernaturals for over a hundred years. You really think they haven't come up with a way to mask their smell so they can fight werewolves?" As he looked on at the shocked expressions around the room, Johnathan got his answer. "Really, you need to be smarter. Things aren't like they were in the middle ages, you know. People fight with assault rifles and dirty tricks. They're not gonna come out on your schedule. They're gonna case the place out and then take you by surprise."
Slowly, the wolfman sat back down as he tried to regain his senses. As for his friend, Phillip, he had questions of his own. "How long do you think we have?"
"Dunno. They're probably trying to see how many people you have, what kind of weapons, what's the terrain like, how many civilians nearby there are, who your allies are..." As he spoke, the demon counted off on his fingers. "Then they're gonna tamper with what they can to weaken us. Attack our vitals like we are going to do to them."
Pausing, Phillip thought for a while, weighing his options. He knew the plan, but he needed to think in different terms. Ultimately, he didn't have final say on anything, but there was a little leeway with what he could do preemptively.
"Lord Merritt," he began, "Go to your laboratory right away. Make sure everyone is on their guard. You need to be ready in case you're attacked at any moment."
"Sounds good to me." Caesar answered. "I'm just happy to be included."
"Sir Lexington, make sure your staff is cautious as well. Make sure the weapons stashes and workshop are protected." Philip continued.
"Understood." affirmed the incubus.
"Farroel, tell your father about the possible reconnaissance going on outside. We need security to be tight."
"Uh-huh..." his friend replied, seeming a bit distracted.
"Farroel." Philip said again. "This is important. Go."
"Alright. Got it." the werewolf stood, albeit reluctantly, and moved to leave the room, only to look back at the other man one last time. The space between his brows were wrinkled as he seemed concerned, but he left, regardless. On his way out, his fiance stood as well in order to follow him. She called out to him and continued to do so until they reached the hallway.
"Farroel!" she called. "Farroel, what are we going to do? The wedding's in a few weeks and now there's this… What ever is going to happen now?"
"I don't know." the wolfman said. "I really don't know, Evangeline. I obviously don't know, so don't ask me. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but there are bigger things to worry about than the wedding, alright? Right now, we need to focus on getting out of here alive. Then we can worry about the little things."
"'Little?' Farroel, it's a big issue. Everything is already planned and if we don't go through with this, the morale of the troops won't be as strong. Unifying the families together will decrease the amount of deserters, and-" Evangeline was cut off as her fiance turned to face her.
"We don't know that." Farroel replied. "We don't know anything. Obviously. Mister Beattie is the one who knows everything. Not even father knew that there's soldiers out there right under our noses! How do we really know that this will affect morale at all? We'll have an heir, yes, but that takes time. Everything is happening right now. If we do nothing, it will be too late for all of us. Don't be selfish."
Blinking, the young woman stared back at him with concern on her face as she searched for his intentions. He sounded reasonable, but something wasn't quite right, whether in his gesture or his tone, or something else. Perhaps it was a woman's intuition. Perhaps it was something else entirely. Farroel seemed nervous, which was completely understandable, given the severity of the situation, but other thoughts swirled about in her head.
"Farroel..." she began, letting out a shaky breath as she moved forward. "You don't want to get married, do you?"
"What?" the man questioned. He scoffed incredulously while shaking his head. "No! No, of course I do. Don't be silly." Gently, he reached out and brushed her bangs out of her face so he could look at her. He smiled, but it did nothing to set the woman at ease. "Things are just complicated now, Eva. I have to worry about my people making it out okay. You understand, don't you?"
Nothing. His words, his touch, his expression… All of them were lukewarm. It was like there was a barrier between them. Evangeline had been banging on the glass, trying to get his attention, but nothing she did worked. Even the times when she thought she did, and she thought that he cared, she could see how hollow it was. Nodding, she agreed. "I understand." she said. "You really don't love me at all, do you, Farroel?"
"What does that have to do with this?" the man questioned, arching an eyebrow. There was no attempt to comfort. There was only the usual misdirection and dodging of the question.
"Nothing." Evangeline answered, shaking her head, causing the short, black curls that framed her face to sway. "I'm just so tired of waiting, Farroel. At least I finally have my answer." She began to turn away. "I'll talk to you later..."
If she walked away, the man had no idea what he was going to do. It was scary. Too scary. He didn't want to think about the possibility of no longer having his life in order. He wanted this path, even if he didn't want Evangeline in the way that he needed to. Farroel liked the woman well enough to not want her to be upset, but was also terrified of the possible consequences from both families if the engagement were to be called off. But what could he do? What could he do to stop her? What could he do to set things back on course?
Before the woman could turn away completely, he grabbed hold of her arm at the elbow and pulled her back, preventing her from leaving. Farroel turned her back around so that they were facing one another and before she could even think to protest, he pressed their lips together, emulating the most romantic of movie scenes that he could think of. There was no struggle. There was no effort to push him away. It was almost as though the woman was waiting to see where he was going, but Farroel didn't know. Neither of them did.
Yet, it was obvious to the two of them what was happening between them. There was nothing to this kiss. There were no sparks. There was no passion, nor affection. It was meant to be an intimate gesture, but somehow, it seemed cold. In this kiss, the truth was revealed. Farroel's feelings toward Evangeline were clear as day.
Nothing. There was nothing there. There was no love being expressed. There was only going through the motions to imitate it. It was obligatory. It was what he was supposed to do- what he knew was expected of him. This is what she wanted. It had gone on for long enough, however. Evangeline's senses finally caught up to her and with a harsh shove, she forced the man off of her before reeling back her free arm.
SMACK!
Her open hand violently collided with the werewolf's face. It didn't hurt him, but Farroel was so shocked by the loudness of the sound that he took a few steps back while clutching his cheek. Blinking, he turned to the woman with raised brows and wide eyes as he stared back at his fiance's wet ones.
The poor woman was on the verge of tears, yet she found it within her to snarl instead of cry. "You will not touch me until out wedding day!"she declared, shaking her arm free of Farroel's grasp. "And that's if there is one to begin with!"
With that, she stormed off again in the direction from which the two of them came from, angrily ignoring any utterance of the werewolf's voice. "Evangeline!" he called. "Evangeline, wait!"
Re-entering the room where all of the others were gathered, her unusual presence suddenly sparked attention from the others. Her brisk walk, furrowed brow, and clenched fists were all unbecoming of her usual ladylike demeanor, prompting the turning of many heads. First, her brother tried to meet her and get to the bottom of what was wrong.
"What happened?" Phillip questioned, but the woman kept walking.
"I don't want to talk." his sister answered before disappearing through another door, slamming it hard enough to shake a painting on the wall. Confusedly, the other looked to his compatriots.
"What do you think that is about?" asked Philip in disbelief, only for Caesar to look to Stephane and for Stephane to avoid eye-contact at all costs.
"Who's to say but the woman herself?" Sir Lexington speculated while staring into space. The thing about the incubus was that he was known to fib if it suited him, so the other suspected that he knew at least something. Philip knew that he wouldn't be able to coax anything out of him, however, so he had no other option but to drop it for the time being.
"Probably some needless distraction that has nothing to do with the situation at hand." Johnathan pointed out. "You lot need to be careful. Distractions can be fatal. Familial drama can cause the fall of kingdoms and this attempt will not be exempt form that danger." The demon was looking at Philip, as he was the son of their leader, but somehow, his gaze made the younger Abhartach uneasy as he folded his arms across his chest and shifted on his feet. For just a moment, Philip's eyes looked downwards and all of this combined gave Johnathan a plethora of information.
The son was weak. The son could be swayed. Doubt could lead to all sorts of things and Johnathan had no time for it. It only cemented the idea in the demon's mind that he had to act soon if he wanted his target. Lord knew that he did. There was also very little that Johnathan wouldn't do in order to make that happen.
Hatred ran through the man's veins at every moment he thought about Ciel Phantomhive. It was often. He fantasied about the pain that he would inflict upon the Phantomhive and what sort of face the Watchdog would make in the face of despair. Johnathan already knew that the other demon's psyche was injured from past traumas, so his ideas revolved around twisting the knife further, as knew that normal attacks would not prove effective. Sir Ciel Phantomhive knew hardship. He was strong. He could endure. There were weak spots, however, and Johnathan could figure them out rather easily. All he had to do was find the right triggers and he could break his archenemy entirely.
That is what Ciel got for taking advantage of his kindness. Johnathan wondered what Ciel thought would happen when the bluenette killed Heinrich. He wondered if it was assumed that Mister Beattie would just return to HELLSING and pay no mind to the fact that he had lost his parental guardian? That man loved Johnathan since the two of them were rather young. Heinrich was taken in by the Beattie family as a teen back before Johnathan was even born. He took care of the lad as his own, even when Johnathan failed to age as time went on. He would have carried on like that forever until his natural demise, as his dedication to both the family and Johnathan was strong. It was a familial bond that could only be broken by death and Johnathan could not accept that outcome. He completely and utterly refused.
The demon was a man now, having made up for lost time and assumed a shape appropriate for his age. Heinrich would have loved to see him like this. So would Johnathan's father, who the German revealed the murderer of to Johnathan before his passing. Victor Beattie was also killed by Ciel, and for that, the Watchdog would have to pay also. It was all Ciel's fault. It was all his fault that Mister Beattie's father and his adoptive father were dead. It was his fault that Johnathan joined HELLSING and the same was true for Heinrich!
With all of this information now clear to him, the man could remember very clearly who he was again. The forgetfulness of most demons when it came to their past lives had left him and Johnathan remembered with clarity. He remembered his life from before and he remembered the impact that the Watchdog had on his life from the very beginning- or rather, the end.
At the end of his past life, Johnathan was rather lonely. His mother had left the family, so she was not there. His father and Heinrich were out at sea, so they were not there. There was no adult to turn to when the bullying started. The other children at Warwick found out about what his father did for a living, so he was quickly labeled the son of a man who facilitates war and murder. Even back then, however, Johnathan was angry.
He was angry at everyone, from the bullies to his parents for leaving him alone. Powerless to do anything about it, he endured, but he seethed. Oh, how he seethed. Soon, his rage grew, and grew, and grew, and grew until finally, he refused to hide it within him anymore. He decided that if the children at school thought that his father was a murderer and that this would rub off on him and make him a murderer, too, that is what he would give to them.
The young Johnathan planned it out and gathered everything he needed. Everything was primed and prepped for his "mission" and he found no flaws. Then, however, he met Ciel Phantomhive and he ruined everything.
Johnathan was determined to unleash his rage in one way or another. If Ciel Phantomhive was going to ruin his plan by confronting him, he thought that meant that he could use the bluenette as an outlet instead. The Watchdog would not fight him, however, even as he drew a blade on him. All he did was move out of the way. Even now, Johnathan seethed as he remembered the other demon's words very well. They echoed in his head, taunting him with how sure Ciel was, but more importantly, how right Ciel was.
"You're going to fall on your knife."
Johnathan swung and swung and swung, slashing air. Sure enough, like some twisted prophecy, he lost his footing as he missed the Phantomhive for what felt like the umpteenth time. He tried to catch himself by slamming his fist on the ground, only to continue falling. He fell right onto his own knife, just like Ciel said.
That bastard. That blue bastard! If only he hadn't shown up, or if only he hadn't made himself a target, Johnathan would have lived like a normal human being! If Ciel didn't exist, he would still be human! If Ciel didn't exist, his father would still be alive and so would Heinrich! If Ciel didn't exist, he wouldn't be standing there right then, depending on what he perceived to be a rather disjointed group of individuals. If Ciel didn't exist, if Ciel didn't exist, if Ciel didn't exist…
But he did. Ciel existed and there was no erasing what had been done. His father was gone. Heinrich was gone. His humanity was gone, too, and there was no getting any of it back again. Therefore, it wasn't suitable that the Watchdog be punished by death. No, then he wouldn't suffer. He wouldn't lose his loved ones, nor his own wretched self. It didn't matter to Johnathan that Ciel had already suffered once, as the Phantomhive had suffered and then gone on to do these unforgivable acts. Johnathan would have to remind him. He would have to break him beyond repair. This time, Sir Ciel Phantomhive would not bounce back. He would never heal. This time, Ciel Phantomhive would be no more, as Ciel Phantomhive would be rendered an empty shelf of himself from sheer despair. That was the intention of Johnathan Beattie.
"So what will you do?" he asked. "What will I do?"
"I'm sorry?" questioned Phillip. "I don't understand..."
"Are you going to get rid of those HELLSING agents outside?" Johnathan questioned. "If not, I can."
"I don't… I don't know…" Philip confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "If we do that, won't they just send more?"
"I'll ask his majesty, then." the demon stated. "He has the final word, anyway, and he should be coming back from his mission very soon."
A/N: I struggled to think of a name for this chapter, but then realised that this is a chapter with the baddies that probably won't even do that well, so I just didn't give it any thought. For the first time, a chapter is named the whatever the fucking number of chapter it is.
Amazing.
I'm not feeling too good about this one. I threw out two and a half pages of content and decided to end it because it made sense to do the thing I was going to later instead. I dunno. I'm just gonna... wing it idk
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
