AN: Whoa it has been a bitch last few months. I got the job! Moving to Japan this summer!

In addition, I've been reading a shit ton and came to the conclusion to not change the rating. I will if something happens in future chapters that is considered mature content, but I'll just put warnings up if there is some stabby shit from Lotte or something.

Here we go! Somewhat different chapter. Hope you will all enjoy, my victims!

Warnings: Contains minor spoilers from Book of the Atlantic and chapters 126-148.

Chapter XIII

Blackout

There was no time to react. No time to think. The last few moments passed like quicksand, getting stuck in the middle and watching slowly as her final blood relative left this world. She expected for a moment to see his soul, a white orb float from his body like she had seen her father's own travelling the shadowed corridors, but the more time passed the more she realized this was no longer the case. There would be no soul exiting because from how Lilith had been looking at the old man moments before his end, the soul had already been extracted. It was Hers. Ciel was merely a puppet - a doll - by the time that knife entered his throat.

His body's end was merely a show.

Pleasure for the White Devil.

Then she sunk faster as her lungs and chest tightened. As if a hand grasped her airways and made all the air from the atmosphere disappear. Lotte was shocked at the amount of energy this demon emanated. It was as if Lotte's own soul was being sucked.

She only blinked once before Lilith's red eyes locked with Lotte's. Her breathing hitched as silver streaks flew past from behind her. Lotte's eyes widened when she saw Lilith block the dozen of sharp iron knives and forks thrown towards her. She only used her hand, and like a force of wind, the polished cutlery was now stuck in the wall.

Lotte thought quickly towards Sebastian behind her…who had thrown the cutlery knowing…it was iron. He used iron cutlery tonight.

Lotte felt a cold, ominous breeze fly past her as she saw a dark shadow lunge towards the White Devil. Black mist collided with white as both bodies of the creatures disappeared, twisting and flying through the massive dining hall.

All Lotte could do was watch as the air in the room continued to dissipate.

Her mind screamed at her to leave the room, to get outside, but her feet – her legs - would not let her. Her fear glued her to the floor.

The two demons reappeared on the other side of the room. Sebastian…Lotte felt it, he was being drained. His shoulders rose with every heavy breath. He was struggling against Lilith. But Lilith looked unarmed, not a hair out of place.

Still smiling.

"Come now…I know you can do better than this," she commented. "Even with most of your powers and memories gone, I know you can easily do something to harm me."

Lotte narrowed her eyes slightly. Wait…memories?

Lotte watched Sebastian's mouth turn up slightly. "Don't underestimate my abilities yet, Lilith. We've only begun."

Lilith huffed out a small laugh. "So we have. I guess it is nearly time to wake up anyways…we have much to do."

But Sebastian didn't get one step in as Lotte found him suddenly thrown towards the wall behind her, crashing into wine glasses stacked like a pyramid on a table. Shards were thrown everywhere. Lotte let out a gasp as she shielded her arm out to protect her face, lowering it to find Sebastian covered with his own red blood on top of the broken fragments of wood and glass.

Lotte took only one step towards her demon butler before something was knocked heavily on the back of her head.

A thousand stars erupted in her vision.

And she plunged into darkness.

xXx

New York City, July 1959

It stunk.

Not just any garbage-like smell from a backside alleyway in the East side of the city, but a rotten, fly-mutilated mixed with cardboard, metal and oil smell. And they were only in the entrance. The smell got worse every step they took deeper in.

It didn't help the fact the state was going through a massive heat wave making the smell five times stronger.

Lotte held back a gag, holding her nose the moment her and Raphael entered the massive abandoned warehouse. She looked at him briefly, wondering how he wasn't making any irritated facial expressions or holding his own nose. She had to stop, looking around to see if she could find the source. Perhaps if it was near the entrance, it would only be bad here and she wouldn't have to endure it deeper on.

But that wasn't the case.

"If the smell is bothering you, you may wait outside," Raphael began without turning to face her. "But remember…"

Lotte didn't remove her hand from her nose as she said the words the same time as her teacher. "Always expect facing those who may end you will always place you in a sticky situation from the beginning."

"…which means you will not always find demons in a McMansion, Lotte."

"Yes, but…how can you even stand this?" she started to follow him again, deeper into the dripping-sounding factory. Ugh, now I can taste it! "I feel like I'm going to vomit…"

"Make sure to do it where I can't see."

Lotte gave him an offensive stare, knowing he said that to her when he didn't like something she was going to do.

She'd been training with him for over a year and had come to terms with his strange personality.

Liquid substance dripped from old pipes from the ceiling. Machinery rusted after a long period of not being used. Burn marks stretched up the metal walls, scorches of a battle lost. It'd been decades since the factory had workers…since the wars. Now all that was left was the faint, constant dripping of God knows what…and the smell.

It was even worse than before.

It didn't even help the growing headache Lotte began to feel.

"What are we even here for?" she asked, daringly.

All he'd told her was a brief summary of a 'disturbance' deemed to be 'a mystery' by the local police. When Lotte asked more, Raphael only gave her a smile. A smile she recognized quickly as 'it is a surprise and a test.' Lotte hated surprises and tests.

But she was only sixteen, and still far from mastering the art of killing a demon. Finding a demon was easy enough…she had plenty of running into demon gangs and groups while wandering the city, but killing them...

Raphael called it a growing skill the way she fought, but she called it pure luck. Sometimes she would be able to move graciously through fighting one, slicing her knife through its soft spot on its neck. But other times her body and mind would freeze with overwhelming state of fear, the demon would attack and she would come out with a scar or two to add to her collection. Using a gun…now that was a whole other story.

And today one was hanging on her belt. She felt it – the weight. She didn't like it, but Raphael told her to get use to everything because if a gun or a knife or even a paddle from a row boat was all that there was, then she would have to use it.

Lotte still liked the kicking method though.

Something was off about this particular location though. It wasn't because of the smell; there was something strange Lotte didn't like. A feeling she didn't have. She felt blinded all of a sudden and stopped when the birth mark on her back didn't give off the familiar tingle.

"We will split up here," Raphael exclaimed, catching her off guard.

"What?" she blurred out.

He peaked from under his hat and showed off one of his gleaming purple eyes to her. "Remember what I told you."

Then he walked off. Lotte quickly followed but as soon as he turned a corner, she was alone.

"Dammit," she muttered.

Lotte swallowed the thickness in her throat and nodded. "I can do this…just…follow your nose…" Gross.

The heat was unbearable as Lotte moved through a corridor. Hair stuck to her forehead which she wiped every minute or so. Her clothes were soaked. The smell was also getting to the point where her stomach couldn't take it anymore and the lack of air made it impossible to get a breath in without gaging. Lotte held her breath, moving quicker to get the job done, find Raphael and get the hell out of there.

Although knowing him he's probably watching me from the shadows…that asshole.

Lotte even started to notice her headache worsen and move to the back of her head, making her vision become slightly blurred momentarily.

Must be dehydration mixed in with whatever the smell is. I'll have to hurry.

She took part in her decreasing energy and began a light jog. Although a little light headed, she needed to hurry. The corridor she was in was thick with the smell, clouding her mind and eyesight. Shadows on either side grew feeding a small growing fear deep in her soul.

So she ran faster, letting go of her nose, pulling out the last amount of adrenaline to turn the corner and exit the corridor, entering an empty room filled with metal rectangle boxes. The shadows still covered the room, but the small light coming from the high windows above was enough to shield her fear.

And the smell.…

This was the core.

Yet she was able to breathe.

Maybe the pain at the back of her head was enough to block it out. Maybe it was the fact these metal rectangle boxes looked a bit like coffins. Or maybe it was the pair of bare feet, lying down, sticking out from behind one of them that blocked out the fact she almost vomited at the entrance of this factory.

She walked slowly towards the pair, pulling out the weight of the gun with her hand. She had a few practice shots but the noise would irritate her ears. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it.

Only a few more steps and Lotte held the gun tightly in both her shaking hands. Her breathing grew heavy as the air inside the room. And when she turned the corner of the coffin, her breathing left all together. She couldn't help but move her hand to her mouth, holding back the new vomit rising in her throat. There, sitting against a coffin in front of her was a desiccating body of a familiar woman, crawling with maggots and flies. The only thing that made Lotte's fear grow more was her body had been mutilated. Eyes were sown shut. Tears of dried blood stained her face. Mouth was left wide open. Her neck was stitched lazily, showing the indication of how she died. It left Lotte in a state of shock.

"Oh Gods…Maggie," she mumbled, turning away from the scene. "What the fuck?"

The leader of the hunter's group that hated her and wanted her dead was now gone. And the rest of her group? Lotte looked around more to see it. This place and what it was. The scene around her was a horrific hospital room. A messed up, disgusting person or thing decided to use an abandoned factory as a way to cut up bodies, place them in iron coffins, and for what purpose?

The pain in Lotte's head grew.

Then Raphael came out from beside her. She didn't flinch, as he stood in front of her assessing the room. Bodies lay on metal tables. Some were in open coffins. Other people, some Lotte didn't recognize were on the floor, probably waiting to be examined.

"What sick bastard would do this?" she blurred out, holding the growing pressure on the back of her head.

"It wasn't a demon," he answered swiftly, moving behind her to examine Maggie's body.

Lotte eyed the body on one of the tables. A man with an eyepatch, his one eye still open and…Lotte shook her head at his open chest.

"So the smell will make you vomit, but not the sight. Interesting." Raphael commented behind her.

"Everyone from her group is dead, aren't they," she stated, still eyeing the body.

"Yes. And from the amount of bodies in here, it seems as though she was growing an army and perished."

Lotte hadn't seen Maggie in a few months, but there was no recollection her hunter group had grown this significant.

She turned to face Raphael. "There has to be at least over hundred bodies in here. Not all can be from her group, can they?"

He lowered his head, shielding his eyes, grinning. "You'd be surprised."

"Then who is doing this? Who managed to defeat this many people…and do this?"

He frowned at her question. "It isn't the work of a gang of demons."

She furrowed her brows at his answer. Then there was a reason why her mark wasn't radiating the same feeling. She was afraid to ask. "Then…who?"

"We need to leave this place. We will not be able to fight the one who is doing this," he claimed, walking towards the exit.

Lotte always huffed in annoyance when her questions were avoided, but this time she didn't. There was something ominous and dark about this place. The shadows were darker here and sent chills down her entire body. So she followed quickly, still feeling the pain in the back of her head.

But midway down the corridor the pain became too intense for her to move. She gasped out at the force of pure painful pressure that connected in her brain, sending stars in her vision. Then in front of her, as if she was seeing a ghost from the future, a dark shadow-like figure appeared heading towards her.

He was wearing what looked like a suit and for a moment it was as if she knew who it was.

Then she muttered a name as she fell forward towards the floor.

"Sebastian."

xXx

London, January 1948

A little girl sat on red velvet steps of a large staircase listening to her mother's voice whisper loudly to a man below.

She held her new stuff animal – a bear – to her chest.

"I am not staying here for another day," her mother hissed, although the little girl had no idea what she was talking about. "What my husband did was despicable and sinful. I will no longer have my daughter live in a house where this kind of violence occurred."

"Please reconsider, Lady Elenor," the man stated, "Lady Charlotte is the main heir to the Phantomhive name due to her grandfather's will."

"Then give it to Liam. I am not letting my five-year-old daughter remain in a house where a possible demon summoning occurred. It's like he was in a goddamn cult!"

"Lord Rhys must have had a clear idea what he was doing. He was trying to rid of the evil-"

"The evil he thought he heard. My husband was sick. Sick in the head," she spat.

Lotte groaned lightly from the sudden pain in her head. She squeezed her bear.

Her mother's footsteps went up the stairs towards Lotte's small figure. She looked up at her mother's tired expression and the small silver cross that hung from her neck.

After a month of funerals and paperwork, Lotte finally had a clear idea what was happening. Father was gone. The people in black told her so during the days of flowers, talking, crying and seeing her father's own body in a coffin made of silver.

She told her mother he looked like he was sleeping, but she knew otherwise. The shadows in her dreams told her so. As well as the yellow eyed people that smiled at her sometimes in the house. She told her mother of the yellow eyed people, but that only made her mother upset.

Maybe that was why they were leaving the house.

Lotte didn't want to leave. This was where her friends were. But her mother was persistent and said they would be leaving for America to live with her maternal grandfather. Apparently he was sick and it was time to return.

"Please reconsider, Lady Elenor. The inheritance-"

"I don't give a damn about inheritance anymore, Lawrence." Her mother picked Lotte up and hissed again. "I will not let my child become part of that world. She is too young to understand."

"In time she will-"

"Shut up!" she snapped as noise of arguing made the pain in Lotte's head worse. Her tiny hand touched the back where the pain was most intense. "I've heard enough! What has happened in this house, what Rhys has done, what his family…a child should never grow up in an environment learning about…the supernatural and demons! She should be brought up in a house of God and peace, which is what I intend my daughter to do."

It was then Lotte couldn't stand the pain anymore. "Mother, my head hurts."

But her mother ignored her, speaking still to the man in front of them. "I do not want to hear anymore from this family. What they have done is unforgivable in the house of God. I will no longer be a part of it, nor my daughter. And if I ever do hear from you horrendous people, I will have my own family's people doing everything to keep you away."

Then her mother was walking towards the large double doors with Lotte tucked in her arms. Lotte saw the man with a bolder hat and green eyes watch them walk out the main doors of the Phantomhive manor. Lotte was placed into the back of a car silently as her mother went to the other side and sat beside her.

Lotte was unable to focus anymore though due to the pain and as the car drove away down the dirt road, she noticed a dark figure standing in one of the second floor windows. A figure Lotte recognized.

Then she muttered his name before slipping into a deep sleep.

"Sebastian."

xXx

New York City, December 14 1960

It was her birthday.

But as the snow fell around her, it was a day of remembrance. She breathed in the cold air, opening her eyes to the dark sky and said, "I haven't forgotten, Father."

She was eighteen tonight and had killed nearly five hundred demons in the last year with the five hundredth lying at her feet.

She breathed deep, took out a match, lit it and threw it onto the body, watching it burn with the snowflakes.

"Happy Birthday, Lotte. Blow out your candle," she said to the fire.

And she gave a small blow, watching her breath evaporate like a puff of smoke.

"Five hundred down. I'm getting closer, Father. I can feel it."

A clapping sounded behind her. She didn't turn. She didn't have to. "You're getting faster at defeating them."

He was right. This one only took a bullet. One iron bullet (which she found out where demon's weaknesses from Raphael's library) in the neck was enough to destroy it. She watched the black smoke evaporate like her own breath and it was gone. Along with any leads with her father's killer.

Yes, she had heard rumours in the city. From other demon gangs. A demon called the White Devil had been summoned and killed a high respected head of family – a father – in London and was the reason for all the outbreak of demons in the world. It couldn't be coincidence. It had been over a decade since Father died so it couldn't be…why now? Why were the demons stirring now? Unless…

"There is nothing more we can do." The leader of the gang said. "Many demons are surfacing all over the world due to her rising power. She'll eliminate anyone who doesn't follow."

So it wasn't just New York? Lotte had thought when she heard of this, spying on one of the gangs one day. But they would never talk when she ambushed them. In fact, they bombed their bunker before Lotte could get in. Apparently they were afraid of what surfaced and what was coming.

What could be so bad that demons want to kill themselves? What could be coming?

"Not fast enough," she commented at the flame, walking away from the bonfire as the smell of burnt flesh started to irritate her nose.

And her head.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the ache come on. She sighed, letting her hand fall and head inside the warmth of the studio she shared with her teacher. It was a large complex, hidden like an abandoned warehouse from outside. But inside it was a training ground full of knives, guns, bows and arrows, and the occasional axe. She started to enjoy the gun more the fact that she could use earplugs and nobody outside would hear.

The place was sound proof and layered with iron. Meaning no demons allowed.

She loved it the most when the sounds echoed off the metal walls. It was pure, blissful music.

"I got you something," he spoke, shutting the door behind him.

Lotte turned her head slightly, noticing the pain more and more in the back of her head. "What do you mean?"

"You think I wouldn't notice when your birthday was, Lotte?" he said, whispering then, "I'm not completely oblivious."

She rolled her eyes, watching his form disappear behind the bathroom momentarily and returning with a box shaped present.

"Besides, you did just say it out loud." He handed her the present and she took it, touching the tips of his fingers doing so. She blinked away the sudden nervousness, hoping the red she felt didn't appear on her cheeks. "Open it."

So she did, ripping the newspaper wrapping apart. Inside there laid a smaller box. She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning why a large box was necessary. He only smiled.

She opened the smaller box to find a necklace with a small, silver rose pendant. She blinked, unable to comprehend why Raphael, her own teacher would give her suck a beautiful gift. Then when she picked it up, she realized it was pure iron.

"Let me put on," he said.

Lotte picked it up, positioned it and waited. She heard a slightly clip and it hung as light as a feather on her chest.

"Thank you," she turned to face him, unable to look into his eyes.

His hat was off. She noticed it when he came in. And then she felt his hand on her chin lift her head up. He knew it too! He knew her slight crush…big crush on him. She blushed at his hand and locked with his own violet pair.

"Looks great on you," he commented, and then walked away. "You needed some like of jewellery on you. You look…plain? Without it."

Then a classical sound erupted from the record machine. She looked at him as he walked back over to her and held a hand out.

"Dance with me?"

She shook her head, feeling her headache increase, feeling even more so embarrassed. Yet this was her favourite classical melody. "I don't know."

"You can dance, Lotte."

"And how would you know?" she snapped suddenly with a smile.

"I know many things about you, you don't know. You're really easy to read."

And she believed him. They have trained and lived together for two years. He knew her weakness and strengths and vice versa. They knew their schedules, when they were in pain, when one was feeling off (although Raphael knew more her emotions than she knew his), and even when one was craving the crappy take-out pizza down the street.

Yet when she took his hand she couldn't help but say, "Then tell me. What's one thing you know about me I have yet to say?"

She wasn't even looking at him, but she heard him chuckle. "You're in love with me."

His words caught her spirit like fire. Her head started to pound even harder. So hard it was as if someone was banging drum sticks on the back of her head. She looked up desperately to see not purple but worried red eyes staring back at her.

Then she muttered a name only her voice recognized, like a memory from her dreams, collapsing quietly in her teacher's arms.

"Sebastian."

xXx

Tribeca, New York City, April 1952

"Go back to London, freak!"

Lotte was pushed to the concrete ground as the four girls laughed above her.

She sniffed at the grey ground, feeling the warmth come to her knees. They were scraped and bleeding. Her mother would want to know why and she again would have to say she tripped playing hop scotch again. Her clothes would be washed by a housekeeper and in Spanish she would tell her
ten cuidado. Her mother would shake her head and walk away, not caring any longer and sip a glass of vodka.

Faith sure had come a long way.

Lotte cringed slightly at a sudden jolt of pain in the back of her head.

She stood up, facing the girls in front of her and pushed one to the ground in defence.

The two others stared at her wide eyed and mouths open like saucers. She breathed hard seeing the other girl, uniform now dirty like hers, crying like a baby.

"I'm telling!" the one on the ground said, getting up and running into the school building.

"You're so in trouble!" one of the girls muttered, running after the injured girl with the third following.

It started to rain and Lotte didn't move from her spot. She didn't want to. The last year had been what her mother called 'a difficult time'. Her grandfather died and all the money her mother inherited started to dwindle at a fast rate. Her mother said it was due to her high class Catholic private school and other expenses, but the nine-year-old was smart enough to know the empty liquor bottles were a big sum of it.

And the unnecessary therapy sessions Lotte hated.

She looked down at her brown shoes, noticing her silver cross on the pavement. It must've fallen off when she fell. It was a gift from her mother when they arrived in the city. Lotte hated New York when they first arrived. There were many yellow eyed people here. More than London. But she slowly got used to it. Over the years, there were a few scary encounters, but Lotte knew she was protected by men her grandfather hired. Lotte never questioned why. According to her mother, she was too young to understand.

And this made Lotte angry.

Lotte gasped, holding the back of her head again from another shock of pain came.

Her breathing started to come out in exasperated huffs. Her angry grew like the pain in her head. Her hands dropped to her sides and rolled into tight fists. She glared at the silver cross and let out a frustrated growl, kicking the jewellery away.

It skidded across the wet concrete playground as the pain in the back of her head increased.

Her hands moved back as stars appeared in her eyes. She crouched down, lowering her head and shutting her eyes in hopes it would help.

As Lotte crouched there, a sudden pair of footsteps came towards her. She knew it was her teacher telling her she was in trouble and to come inside. But when she looked up into the rain she didn't see her teacher, but a man in a long, black drench coat holding an umbrella in one gloved hand and her cross in another.

Lotte saw his face was hidden by shadows. Even so, her head hurt too much to try and focus on who he was. The only thing she noticed was his eyes. A bright red colour she found strangely familiar.

Then she muttered a name, shutting her eyes from the pain and letting the stars cover her entire being.

"Sebastian."

xXx

New York City, June 1964

Lotte had a headache and it was getting worse.

But she could not mess this interview up. She could be the first woman to ever be part of an organization like this.

She also knew as the captain, Mr. Whitney, came into the office, her connection with the first director was the reason she was there. Her grandfather, Stanley, was not forgotten in the city and Mr. Whitney knew this.

"So, all I want to know is this, Ms. Phantomhive," he started as he sat across from her, "why are you here?"

She swallowed. "To be honest with you, sir, I'm not completely sure yet. All I know is that it's fate." By the fact I want to kill every demon in the city without getting into trouble.

"Fate?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, sir. Fate. Like a force. I'm self-trained. You saw that in my physical, but this city is my home and I understand the dangers of it. I've grown up alone since I was ten. I know what can be lurking in the shadows. All I want is to keep our citizens safe. It's my duty, sir."

"Hm." The man leaned forward. "I want to make this clear since I have no choice according to your grandfather's will. I will not recognize you as a special agent until you prove to me what you can do. You're only twenty-one for fuck sakes. The government will have my head if I let a kid into this organization so easily. You will observe missions, you will not get in the way, and if anyone like the press asks, you are merely a bystander, understand? I don't care who you are or that you were related to Stanley, this is my department and you do not exist. Got it?"

She nodded, knowing this was going to be the best she got. "Yes, sir."

"Get out of my office, you start Monday."

She stood up, feeling the pain in the back of her head pound even harder. Her vision blurred for a moment before coming back into focus in the hall. She took a deep breath and walked proudly. When she turned the corner towards the exit, she ran into a hard backside of someone and stepped backwards with a harsh grunt. As she felt her balance leave her, a hand caught her wrist. When she looked up to thank and apologize to the person, she paused when she saw a pair of familiar red eyes on someone she never met.

Or at least she thought she never did.

Then she muttered his name – a name she hadn't said since living in England.

"Sebastian."

That was when something collided with the back of her head, bringing forth a sea of stars and sending her into darkness.

xXx

London, August 1967

Pain. Exquisite, immolating pain was what she felt in her head when she woke to darkness. She tried to move, but her hands and feet were stuck to something heavy. As her eyes opened more and adjusted she found small amounts of light flickering from candles in the large room. She looked down to see her hands, feet, and body were chained to a chair. She was groggy, weak, and knew she had a concussion.

"What…" she mumbled. "…wha… where?"

"Welcome back to the party, little star," a female voice came from the shadows.

Lotte's eyes narrowed into the darkness and finally noticed the five shadows standing in front of her, staring back with very distinct, very bright, yellow eyes.

AHHHHHHHHHHH (I know I have more to say) HHHHHHHHHHH!

Review!