Disclaimer: I own nothing
Bonus Chapter 05: Kuro's Christmas Carol pt1 (Mary Cratchit)
You know, I had my doubts about this world. It seemed like a pointless waste of time even with the otherworldly side to things.
The locked start didn't help either, being thrust into the role of the main character was annoying. I'm more of a man behind the curtains thing, the power behind the throne. Being the main character is a cause for dramatic speeches about friendship and good, and I just don't have time to write that many speeches.
But it honestly hasn't been that bad... and it's not like I have a limited amount of time.
Still, as far as main characters go this has been a pretty good one, Ebenezer Scrooge is a greedy asshole of the highest order, it's no wonder I fell into the role with such ease.
Kuro is my middle name this time, but it's also my preferred name. It works out I've found, even when I take the form of a person with a name I use Kuro as a middle name, and I have enough perks to stop people connecting the immense amount of historical and mythological figures that happen to be called Kuro, or some variant of it.
A Christmas Carol... it's definitely a strange one, I've seen no spirits yet, but for obvious reasons, I'm not particularly worried. What I have done is made my companies as profitable as possible, at the slight cost of my employee's happiness, but I have a part to play. Honestly, workplace deaths are at an all-time low in places like the mines since I bought them.
The funny fact is that I have barely used magic since I arrived here. Honestly, any well-educated modern-day person can profit immeasurably here with some work. If they're a white male, doubly so. The patriarchy is alive and well in Victorian England. I've used magic for comfort-related things, but business is just business. No spells have been required to make a fortune.
I don't actually recognise this particular version of Christmas Carol, I've been to one already, but that was the muppets version, and I went into Outsider mode and just observed, I always liked that movie after all.
"This cold and this smoke in this city... it does not suit a boy so tender. He has fluid on his lungs, a Surgeon has told us that he requires an operation... Thoracic draining... or he will die." Mary Cratchit explains, my... niece in law? Is that even a thing? She's the wife of Bob Cratchit, my Nephew, and the mother of Tiny Tim and their daughter whose name... I legitimately don't remember.
"Now, the cost of the operation is far beyond our means. It's very complex, in three stages." Mary continues as I move further into the building, looking over some paperwork.
"How much?" I asked, cutting her off, she doesn't like me. Bob doesn't like me. She wouldn't come here so early, hours before her husband is supposed to start work if she didn't need something. She hesitates for a moment,
"Ten, ten and ten. Thirty Pounds." she admits making me look at her as I attempt not to laugh. Thirty Pounds. The price of a life. I think I've spent that on fast food in a single day. After a moment I go back to the paperwork, barely glancing at her as I run some numbers in my head.
"You can't sell your house?" I ask, making her wince.
"The house is rented." she admits as I hide a smile, she doesn't know it, but I own her house. I own most of the rental residences, just a little side business. The housing market is always profitable.
"And you have no rich relatives?" I ask, excluding myself.
"Mr Scrooge, my husband is... too proud to ask you himself. But I weigh my pride against my baby's life and... the scale break with the imbalance." She says quickly.
"You are a poet." I say somewhat mockingly.
"I am a mother in desperate need. And I came here without my husband's permission or knowledge to ask you, Mr Scrooge, for a loan." she says resolutely. Owing me, money doesn't tend to end well for people.
Thirty Pounds. In this age, that's a considerable amount of money, but I've spent hundreds on food in a single night before. I have over two thousand just sat in my safe, and that's only a deposit before I move it to my full vault.
"Where does your husband think you are? What lie did you tell him?" I asked calmly as I walk further into the building, making her follow me, stopping as I sit down at my desk.
"Well, uh... I told him that I would queue for the best goose." She admits making me scoff amusedly.
"Ah. You can afford a goose, but you still want a loan. There's such a thing as unnecessary expenditures, Mrs Cratchit." I reprimand. People buying what they can't afford has been an endless source of opportunity and profit for me, but it's still foolish.
"You could deduct a certain amount from my husband's wages each week. I think we could survive on two shillings less. " She suggests as I pause in thought. There's one thing I've been missing in this world... "And over..." she continues before I shush her.
"Let me see... two shillings per week. Two by fifty-two, that's one hundred and four shillings per year. That is five pounds, four shillings. Five pounds, four shillings per year, times six is thirty-one pounds... four shillings. So, if your husband were to continue to work for me, he would pay his debt in six years and provide an interest dividend of one pound, four shillings." I tally up in my head.
"Mr Scrooge..." she starts before I hold up a finger.
"That's an interest rate of 4%. Which on a six-year investment is uncompetitive." I say bluntly as I look over at her coldly, watching her flinch. "Especially since it depends on a guarantee of six years of service when as we know, life is filled with misfortune and unexpected hazards which may render him unable to fulfil his obligation." I continue as the gears in my head turn.
"Mr Scrooge, I... I think we might be able to survive on less per week." she says reluctantly. No, she can't I've done the maths, they'd starve on less, either that or end up homeless.
"If you were to sacrifice absurd things like a goose at Christmas, yes, perhaps." I say opening my desk drawer and pulling out a key, calmly playing with it.
"Mr Scrooge, there is no-one else." she admits as I pause, the only noise being that of my clock ticking away. No-one else will start work for another couple of hours. 'Mr Scrooge' is an early riser, I'm not but a little time travel lets me get my full sleep and still be at work for 6am.
"...there's no one else we can go to. No one else we know has that kind of money." She says after a moment.
"Mrs Cratchit, in my safe at present, I have £2145 and 14 shillings. Pure profit, pure. Just behind that iron door." I gesture, making her look over at the safe with wide eyes.
A Victorian peasant can't even picture that much money I suppose.
"Which opens with the turn of this key..." I say holding my key up. It might seem dumb to keep the key so close to the safe, but I've cursed this key heavily... plus I have a guard spirit watching it. Walking over to her, I stop just in front of her, looking down at her smaller stature with a cold look. "What would you do, Mrs Cratchit, to have me open that door and hand you £30, not as a loan but as a gift?" I ask making her eyes widen, her mouth opening and repeatedly closing as she tries to work out where I'm going with this.
I never do anything if it doesn't have some form of benefit for me. That's something Kuro and Scrooge have in common.
"I know, Mrs Cratchit, you are a faithful, virtuous and honest woman but I am curious as to the extent of that honesty and faithfulness." I say walking over to the safe as I hear her gasp in realisation, a look of horror crossing her face as I unlock the safe and pull out £30. "The price of it, I mean."
"I do not understand what you mean, Mr Scrooge." she lies, a slight glare in her eyes as she stares at me walking back over to my desk with the money.
"Ten, ten and ten." I say placing them on the desk in front of her, watching the horror turn to indecision and disgust. "I am a man of reason, a scientist... and above all, a merchant. I like to conduct experiments regarding the human condition. Regarding virtue and vice. Experiments to determine if every aspect of the human soul can be converted into currency and, if so... what is the exchange rate for love, for example, or compassion?" I say watching as she trembles slightly, a shudder running through her body. "Mrs Cratchit please, take ten now, then think up another lie to tell your husband and come to my apartments on Christmas Day at 4pm, when you're at my apartments if you do exactly what I tell you to do. Everything I tell you to do, I'll give you the rest- as a gift." I say calmly as a tear leaves her eye, restrained sobs wracking her body. This is a business transaction, nothing more.
I've learnt that everyone has a price, no matter how faithful, proud or virtuous, whether they are commoners or royalty, everyone has a price. Something they will throw away their pride and loyalty for, it's just a matter of finding that price.
I have my wealth, my comfort... but I don't have a woman. Mary is one of the only main characters that are female. I've had sex obviously, but that was my girls visiting me here not any of the locals.
She isn't bad looking, though her hygiene leaves something to be desired like everyone's in this era. It's a problem with travelling to the past, it's not quite as glamorous as the movies make it out to be.
I've long since realised my major flaw, I want what other people have. List and agreed have always been obvious, but Envy is the reason I always try to take other peoples girls.
I don't like Bob Crachit enough to not do this. He has her, and that means I want her. Besides, he might be a good worker, but he also wants to quit. I don't like my sla... 'employees' resigning. I like them going to my competitors even less.
As a whimper leaves her mouth, I smile to myself.
"Christmas... Christmas Day itself will be difficult." she says, not wholly agreeing but certainly not saying no.
"Christmas Day is a day like any other. Meet me at my apartments at 4pm. Do we have a deal?" I ask as she looks between me and the money before she nods, closing her eyes.
"Yes." she says, sniffling slightly as she walks over and grabs the ten pounds with a slight sob, before leaving without a word.
I have a hobby of ruining people's Christmas Days. It's a long-standing tradition.
Fucking Santa thinks he can give me coal? I've been ruining Christmas ever since the old bastard thought he was being clever.
I've burnt his workshop, fucked his wife, stole his sleigh, turned his elves into slaves and eaten his reindeer, but I still have a score to settle with him. It's why I don't mind when I end up in Christmas related worlds.
I'll happily make my girls and children's Christmas's wonderful, but everyone else is free game.
- Next Day – 4pm -
Super-hearing has it's applications... listening to my large iron gate creaking as she opens it I sit back in my chair, hearing her hesitant footsteps draw closer.
"Dear God, forgive me. Dear, dear Bob, forgive me. Children, forgive me. Jesus, turn your head." she whispers to herself. God isn't real, not in this world at least. This world has no god, it has an afterlife, just no ruling God. The first thing I do in every realm is search for deities, and if they are hostile, I devour them, if they are reasonable I'm happy to let the minor gods live, it's not like there are really any that can genuinely threaten me any more. There's just me and Shiro in a league of our own, and honestly? If he died, I'd be bored. If I died, he'd be bored.
A good rivalry is the best way to spice up an eternity. We can't fight, not at full strength, we tend to destroy the universe we are in when we try, but that doesn't stop us from challenging each other in different ways.
The Christian God and I rarely get along anyway, I think he takes offence to how many of his commandments I've broken. Lucifer is the fun one anyway, God's boring.
As she knocks on the door, I approach, unlocking the door and opening it. She glances at me as I do but immediately looks down again, occasionally glancing behind her in worry as she watches the crowds pass by.
"Come in." I say, moving out of her way as she walks into the house without a word, never looking me in the eye as I close the door. "Would you like a drink?" I ask calmly as I sit down pouring my own, watching her stop a couple of meters away from me.
"No... please... let's get this thing done. I said I'd be back for..." she trails off at my amused look.
"For what?" I ask.
"For the pouring of the brandy on the pudding." she continues, fidgeting as she wrings her hands together.
"Ah, a perfect Christmas tradition. Pour perfectly good brandy onto an already cooked pudding and set fire to it. Thus burning the pudding and wasting the brandy." I chuckle.
I've pulled some strings to increase the price of Christmas Goose's and Brandy, if they want to spend money they don't have on something so foolish, I'll make them pay every last shilling they have for it.. like I said, I have a long-standing tradition of battling Christmas. Fucking Santa.
"To the moment." she counters, making me smile. I know a lot about doing things for the moment, usually one of my girls moments instead of mine but I understand wasting resources just for the moment.
Rias likes to be spoiled occasionally, while Emma prefers to do the spoiling.
"And what is the moment, I need to be clear." I say with a cruel smirk. Bob wants to leave my employment? That is... ill-advised. Something he'll soon learn. No-one, not even my 'nephew' can interfere with my profits.
"Our arrangement." she says quickly making my lips twitch.
"I need to be clear." I say again making her pause before she takes a deep breath.
"You will... give me money if... I allow you... to do what you want." she says, not going into detail.
"And what... do I want? I need to be clear." I say making her lips tremble. This is important, she's a prideful woman, and for my next phase, I need her to have lost much of that pride.
"I have to say it out loud?" she asks after a moment.
"Yes." I reply simply, watching her open and close her mouth several times as she tries to stop herself from glaring at me.
"I imagine... intercourse." she practically whispers. With my hearing I can hear it as if she shouted it to the stars, I can even hear her family on the poor side of town wondering when she'll get home. It took me a while to get the hand of being able to hear everything that happens around me.
"To be clear, in return for the £20 cash I have put on the fireplace, along with the ten I put down as a deposit on your virtue..." I start making her interrupt me.
"In the name of God." she says, making my lips twitch.
"You would do it in the name of God? I don't think he'd like that." I say with a smirk, He really wouldn't. Marriage vows are sacred after all, and breaking them is naughty.
Oh wait, that's why he doesn't like me. I can't keep my hands off other peoples wives.
"For my son, as you know." she continues making me nod.
"Yes. Yes, I know." I say bluntly.
"Please... My family are all waiting." she pleads quietly making me pause, staring at her silently. It's more effective if I make her take the first move instead of ordering it.
After a moment she does precisely what I expected, she doesn't have time to waste after all.
Moving to the table, she removes her shawl, placing it and her hat on the table. It's freezing in Victorian England and a peasant like her has to rely on wearing a dozen layers to stop herself from freezing to death.
Global Warming is no joke, Ye Olde Winters are fucking freezing.
"I do this only for the life of my child." she says as she takes her gloves off, the occasion sniffle leaving her.
"In truth, your reason for needing the money matters little to me, it doesn't affect what you are going to do, and therefore is not of any interest to me." I reply, watching her unbutton her dress. "Everyone has their own reasons for wanting and needing money, and as the person with the most money, it opens up many options I wouldn't usually have. That is not the issue, my little experiment is about currency. It is about finding out the extent of the things a good person will do in return for... money. And how much each bad thing would cost, thereby establishing a kind of exchange rate. A human exchange rate." I say as she pulls her dress off her shoulders, she has another top beneath it, but her slender shoulders are exposed now.
"Similar to the exchange rate on the commodity market... only now, instead of jewels or spices... it is your virtue that is up for auction. Going... going..." I say as she undoes her skirt, letting it drop to the floor, underwear isn't exactly standard around here... leaving her naked from the waist down in only a top to cover her breasts. "Gone." I finish in amusement as she tries to work the buttons of her last piece of clothing, her hands trembling as she does so.
Unsurprisingly her pussy is topped with a neatly trimmed but otherwise thick bush of pubic hair, something I've found as I go to the past. The cleanly shaven look is a modern trend, if you go any further back than the eighty's, then you should get used to some hair down there.
As she finally manages to undo the top, it joins the other clothes on the table leaving her completely bare, modest breasts hanging free. They might not be massive, but they are perky.
Standing up, I walk towards her slowly, stopping right next to her as I stare down at her, my eyes roaming over her body.
"You are a devoted wife. A good mother. And yet, on Christmas Day... you are prepared to run across town in the snow and break every solemn vow and commandment in return for money. Everyone and everything has a price." I say reaching forwards and groping her breast roughly making her tremble.
"Not everyone." she replies, making me chuckle.
"Perhaps... but I've yet to meet anyone who doesn't... and you certainly do." I say grabbing her arm and spinning her around, forcing her to bend over the table, her clothes cushioning her as I push her down, undoing my belt quickly.
For my full plan to work I need to lessen her self-worth, I could make this last for ages, with plenty of foreplay making her reluctantly enjoy it. But that's not what I'm going for this time.
With no foreplay or preparation, I gripped her waist tightly and thrust forwards, making her squeal as I sheath myself in her surprisingly tight womanhood. She seems to have decided to simply endure it as she stops responding, the occasional sob or whimper leaving her as she keeps her head down.
Even as her lower lips start to dampen from her reluctant pleasure, she stays mostly silent, not a single moan of pleasure leaving her lips. I'd be insulted if I was trying, Eromancy could break her mind in about five seconds if I wanted to use it.
Divine Rank Eromancy for the win.
But, that's not what I'm going for today. I could break Mary and leave her addicted to my cock, but that would ruin the charade when I send her home soon. Hell, I could just pull out some of the better non-magical tricks I've learnt, but again... this isn't about making her enjoy it. It's about lowering her sense of self-worth.
Speeding up, I decided to give her a minor mercy. She needs to be back soon to stop the suspicion from growing... so I'll make this quick. The room is filled with the sound of flesh striking flesh, and her whimpers as I pound into her, my hips meeting her ass repeatedly.
If she was thinking correctly, she'd probably tried to get me to agree to pull out... oh well. Sheathing myself inside her one last time I let out a sigh, cumming deep inside her as a horrified sob leaves her mouth.
Should have thought ahead, honestly who agrees to do anything they're told? That's so open-ended, and someone who can bind people to their word (like me) will happily turn such stupid agreements against them.
It's just like when I was doing the whole wish-granting mage/magical merchant thing. Almost every wish turned out differently than they hoped. Practically every purchase backfired. I always kept my side of the agreement, but people need to get better at keeping their side of the bargain... or making sure what they ask for is what they actually want because after the deal is struck, there's no stopping me.
- Mary Cratchit -
Feeling him pull out of her, she gripped her clothes tightly, looking back for the first time as she watched him calmly put his belt back on, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"Take the money, Mrs Cratchit. Your family is waiting for you after all." he said calmly as he returned to his seat, pouring himself another drink as he sat down, watching her as she stood up on shaky legs, feeling his... essence leak out of her, running down her leg.
As she pulled her clothes back on, she glared at him, catching the amused smirk as she did.
"Oh, don't be like that. This is a business transaction, nothing more. You agreed to provide services in exchange for more money than you had any right to. Any other whore would get a couple of pounds at most for her services, this was an act of mercy from me." he says with a disgusting self-assurance... he truly believed the words leaving his mouth.
"...you are scum, pure and simple." she said as she finished dressing, snatching the money quickly. "And one day, you'll pay for all the misery you have spread." she assured him making him smile.
"I've heard that before, often by people who'd soon find all kinds of misfortunes occurring to them... and their loved ones. I won't tell Mr Cratchit about your utter betrayal of your marriage oaths if you're worried about that. You can... live with that secret. Good day Mrs Cratchit... Oh, and Merry Christmas. Now get out." he ordered coldly, the room feeling freezing as the air seemed to cling to her, she could almost see a cold mist radiating from him as her response died in her throat.
Wanting nothing more than to be away from the oppressive feeling of danger, she backed away quickly, practically fleeing the house, not stopping till she was across the street.
Looking back at the massive building she froze at the feeling of eyes on her, every window was empty, the curtains drawn but she knew something was watching her, as she headed back home, the feeling didn't fade, no matter how far she got from his home, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
She wouldn't get a chance to clean herself until tonight if she immediately tried she'd just make Bob suspicious... her Christmas Day would have the constant feeling of... Him inside her, his seed soiling her body.
She never liked him, he was a cold, arrogant and cruel man... but now? She could truly say she despised Ebenezer Kuro Scrooge with all her heart.
- Days Later -
Looking over her bed-ridden husband, she felt her heart drop, nothing seemed to go right for them recently.
It had been nothing more than bad luck, Bob, not noticing a piece of black ice on the ground, causing him to slip and tumble down a stairway. He survived despite the terrible fall... but he'd shattered the bones in both his hands and one of his legs as he landed.
His job required him to write a lot... something he would likely never be able to do again. The leg wasn't that bad for a man who worked with numbers and papers, but his hands?
Scrooge would fire him without a second thought, and then they'd have no income... they'd either lose the house and freeze or just starve to death.
She could still feel Scrooge's hands on her, his seed inside her most sacred place... and now her sacrifice had been for nothing, she'd bought her son a couple of weeks at most, without a home he'd freeze in days.
Hearing a knock at the door, she went to open it before the man let himself in, calmly walking into her home like he owned the place.
"M-Mr Scrooge?" Bob said, trying to sit up before the bastard held up a hand.
"I heard about your... accident. Word certainly travels fast..." he said, looking over Bob's hands with a scowl. "You won't be able to work?" he asked bluntly making Bob flinch.
"I... no sir, I won't be able to write any time soon... perhaps never." Bob admitted watching the older man stared at him coldly.
"It goes without saying that I will have to let you go, I will not pay a man for work he does not do, work he cannot do. At the very least I'll give you a severance package, a hundred pounds should do." he said making both their eyes widen, that was far nicer than they expected... it'd last them awhile.
"I... thank you, Sir." Bob said bowing slightly, despite her hatred for the man she did the same, not willing to risk the money by being rude.
"You are family, I suppose. I do this much for Lottie, not for you." he said bluntly. "I have an offer for you, or to be more specific for your wife. My maid has recently been fired due to idleness, given that you are out of a job and are unlikely to be able to find another in your... state, I am willing to take your wife on as my maid, for the same wage you made working for me, which is more than a maid would normally make. If you accept, come to my home tomorrow morning, at six am. If you are not there, I will assume you have declined and seek out a new maid. That is all, Good day to you, Mr and Mrs Cratchit, children." he said, turning and leaving the room without another word as she felt her heart drop, a cold sweat overwhelming her.
That offer wasn't nearly as kind as it seemed... and she was the only person who truly understood it.
She could hear her husband and children talking excitedly, hopeful that they wouldn't lose the house or starve.
"Did you hear that, Mary? Maybe I've been too harsh on Uncle Ebenezer." Bob said, some cheer to his voice.
"Yes, maybe." she said, a fake smile on her face even as her mind raced.
- Kuro -
Heh... Cryomancy is the best for making accidents. That, and Heart-attacks, but they're a bit more permanent than I needed for this situation.
Maid acquired, I don't need to read her mind to know she's already steeling herself to accept.
This world has something... supernatural. A particular three spirits who haunt people who don't appreciate Christmas... If I can ruin enough Christmas's, they'll come for me. I'm hiding my true nature, to them I should appear genuinely human.
Here I am Spirits... come and get me.
Authors Note: Was watching the BBC Christmas Carol mini-series and got the idea for this, it's almost true to the show even. It'll probably have one or two more chapters, Lottie Scrooge is hot after all.
Someone asked if I had a pat reon, so I made one, check it out, or don't. I won't be posting anything on there that I don't post here
www. Pat reon user?u=13212571
