Author's Notes ::
I don't own Kuroshitsuji!
I must have bored you with the prologue~ Let's start the adventure, shall we? :) *rubs hands evilly*
Chapter Two
Of Eyes and Smiles
1890, London
The flurry of color and frills swept people from their feet, the lively tune resounding across the vast expanse of the whole ballroom sending its visitors dancing to their hearts' delight— except for a lone wallflower, who took small sips from his drink as he silently watched his fiancé meander about in the crowd.- Doc Manager
"Still nothing, Sebastian?" Ciel Phantomhive whispered to the taller man beside him while he kept his azure eye ever watchful. The lights merely shone upon his bluish-black hair as he made no motion on his spot, and his signature midnight-blue coat still pristine from the lack of movement to mar its surface.
"Nothing, Young Master. Should we start brushing around the vicinity?" the man clad in pure black inquired in a low tone, whose crimson eyes never left the spectacle ahead of them. He stood quietly as well, playing with the wine inside his glass as though he too was wholly interested in tonight's affairs. Ah, those scents were convoluting, and every swish of a body nearby felt like an allergen worsening his already confused nose.
"Yes. We have two hours left. It might be advantageous to us if we make haste," the younger man spoke, finally looking up to other with disinterest. Besides, I want to leave this party as soon as I can, he mentally added, something that brought a slight smirk upon his companion's lips.
"Understood." In one swift motion, Sebastian placed the slightly filled wineglass on the table, but a sudden jolt coursed through his arm. His gloved hand collided with another, apparently without him noticing it was even there.
"Oh, I am truly sorry!" A young lady's voice soon followed as the hand was swiftly withdrawn from the table.
"It's okay," he replied, bowing to the woman whose presence slipped his attention. Upon looking up however, he could not believe his eyes.
Slender figure, heart-shaped face, grey eyes, thin lips, blush-kissed cheeks and strawberry-blonde tresses… Though the expression was different, his visual memory of the mysterious woman that flashed in his mind held such an uncanny resemblance that he did not even give himself time to have second thoughts about it. There was an apologetic smile on her delicate countenance, charming its own way to the depths of his mind. Yes, he did not even recognize that scent…
"Is anything the matter?" She tilted her head a little to the side, suddenly noticing Sebastian's prolonged staring. Blinking twice, it was as if her words did not reach him at all. "Hello?" Lifting her gloved hand, she waved slightly before the man's eyes.
"Oh, Marchioness! There you are~!" A cheerful voice tore through Sebastian's thoughts, abruptly pulling him from his meditation. "Finally some alone time without Halinor!"
"Viscount Druitt!"
Aleister Chamber's lanky figure suddenly appeared, bright eyes sparkling as he wound his arms around the woman's right arm, promptly pulling her away from Sebastian. "I've heard a wondrous tale from Sir Lancel Metzer. He says you've managed to instill a love of leaning on his oh-so-stubborn daughter. Oh you woman with your little tricks, how did you even manage to last a week with her?" He started chattering away, without any regard to what she might have been doing just a moment ago before dragging her off. A few seconds before disappearing amidst the crowd, she looked back and mouthed a simple apology to Sebastian.
"Ahhhh, her dress is so pretty~! Isn't it, Paula?" A young's high-pitched voice spoke up from behind Sebastian, almost in a dreamy tone as she lavished the after-image of the salmon gown the woman donned.
"Yes it is, My Lady."
"Paula~! Let's look for it!" Elizabeth Midford pulled upon her attendant's arm, curly blonde locks bouncing in smooth harmony with her buzzed motion. She was more than giddy, and it would be best not to stop her from this hunt.
"Oi, Sebastian! What are you doing?!" Ciel suddenly spat at the distracted man, who seemed to have regained his consciousness as his master's voice reached his ears.
"Nothing of importance, My Lord. Now, If you'll excuse me…" With a slight bow, he turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing among the guests around the large hall.
Several shrill screams resounded from the courtyard, calling the attention of some of the guests still in perpetual bliss inside the lovely ballroom. In contrast to the merriment inside, the scene that bombarded their sight was one something truly appalling, something so ghastly that the women retreated back to the hall as soon as their eyes laid upon it, hands covering their mouths in shock, some with tears in their eyes. There were gasps even from the gentlemen gathered around the vicinity, and not a single one of them dared to approach the victim.
Scattered across the large stairwell leading to the estate were the mutilated body parts of a lady stripped of her own clothing, her life, and her identity.
For each flight of stairs, there were pieces of her, in order of its appearance on her actual anatomy—locks of her deep brown hair, her gouged eyes, her decapitated head with a gaping mouth placed right beside her earrings, her neck and collar placed beside a lavish necklace and her dagger-stabbed heart. The next flight of stairs held her torso, with her arms disjointed, placed side by side with the palm and the cleanly cut fingers, without missing the ring that it once previously held. The next, her abdomen, then her disjointed legs along with her horribly disjointed foot cut into pieces. On the eighth flight of stairs, her bloodstained clothes were neatly folded, with her gorgeous heels sitting atop.
And on the ninth, was a note written in her blood:
"Fragmented pieces of a fragmented body
Shattered dreams of an undivided soul
Tarnished into defamation
beyond reclamation."
(How was it having your body disjointed, miss Lena?
I hope we can discuss it over tea sometime.
There are a lot of us who can empathize with you
here in the underworld.)
At the very bottom of the parchment was the number '21', accompanied by the symbol of an inverted star placed inside a circle.
In hurried steps, Ciel Phantomhive fearlessly squirmed his way out of the appalled crowd and examined the paper, despite the objections some of the guests had against his course of action. He was the Queen's Watchdog, yet such a thing still occurred even around his presence.
Whoever did this line of murders surely was someone who isn't afraid of Ciel's presence—and definitely not someone to be trifled with. Clenching his other hand to a fist, the boy couldn't help but to hiss in annoyance. What is the rationale behind this utter stupidity?! Who dared to commit such a crime in public merriment? And how, exactly, was the crime committed while Sebastian is already snooping around?! Gritting his teeth, the young man took the parchment with him and walked away, literally trudging down on the stairs with his heels clicking against the cold pavement.
Sebastian's silhouette was on the roof of the tall manor, silently watching as the ordeal simply unfolded, his lips pressed into a grim line. How did such a criminal evade him, Sebastian Michaelis, and his demonic senses? It all seemed rather preposterous to him. He was distracted by the appearance of the mysterious lady, yes, but not distracted enough to neglect his duties. Eyes narrowed, he tried his best to sense the suspicious movement of souls all around the hall.
His demon skills had sorely diminished due to the long abstinence from randomly eating souls, but his skills granted him this much. Among all of the strong emotions of those humans gathered in the hall, majority of them felt disgusted, horrified and frightened. Some of them were curious and thrilled, but faint souls did not seem to jive with the bereaving atmosphere.
A soul that seems to be elated at the sight of the woman, and another that seemed moderately satiated with his soul's desire.
Two queer souls that felt different among all others.