The moon's silver rays peeked through the grimy old window, illuminating the two figures by the makeshift bed. They sat on the floor with the wrinkled map spread between them, while the snakes slumbered on the two chairs. Ciel could hear their sporadic hisses and sputters, and he was certain that only his footman would be able to tell them apart. He all but envied their peaceful rest, although he couldn't let himself sleep.
Not yet.
"Undertaker's parlor, the sinking Campania, and Weston College," Ciel whispered, so as not to wake the snakes. He pointed to each place (or an approximation of the location) respectively on the map. "Now, the Undertaker may seem like one who does not care for meticulous plans, but I assure you that's not the case. These venues are connected, albeit loosely. All we have to do is find the pattern."
He turned the map over and reached into his pocket, only to grasp at thin air. His hand shot to his other pocket, and he seethed when an image of the pen falling out painted itself in his head.
What a bother.
He looked at Snake, whose eyebrows were lifted slightly, his mouth shifted somewhat to the right.
It was almost as if it was asking him a question.
"It looks like I have lost my pen, but never mind that; we are not little children. We can keep in mind—"
Ciel cut himself off when he saw Snake stand up and take a step forward, hovering for a moment over his friends. He swiped a thin, pointed item out of one of the snakes' clutches, and Ciel suddenly found it mere inches from his face.
The fountain pen.
Snake's face held an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Oscar doesn't usually steal anything, but he likes being difficult sometimes. He's one sneaky fellow."
The pen was brought closer to his face, and the boy took it with a huff. The footman resumed his position across from him once more. Pen poised over the blank side of the map, Ciel said softly, "Start listing any important points that come to mind. I will add also add anything that I deem significant."
"Okay. This is kind of obvious, but connection one: each time he shows up, dead people are bound to be involved."
"Yes," Ciel paused, and the room was momentarily engulfed by the sound of inky letters being etched onto paper, until he continued, "although there is more to it than that."
"He's doing research for his Bizarre Dolls."
"I wouldn't necessarily call it 'research'. It's closer to testing out a method based on research."
"He was probably still doing it when he worked as an undertaker, though, seeing as it would've been the best excuse to study souls. He could have done direct experimenting, but after a while he could have decided that he wasn't getting enough test subjects."
"His experimenting was also quite limited; if the relatives of the deceased were to notice that something was amiss, he would have been punished. He couldn't afford to be slowed down by that."
"And it's not like he could just dig up their graves either; someone would have noticed, so after he considered his research to be complete, he got to testing his theory right away."
Ciel nodded and leaned against one of the chairs. Half a decade of conducting research on reviving humans. A bit reminiscent of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.
"Alright. Second connection. The radical mix between social classes and age groups."
"He chooses places like this on purpose, doesn't he?"
The pen ceased its movement for a split second, after which Ciel nodded. "Like I said, he doesn't seem to be fond of meticulous plans, but the patterns here state otherwise. Blending in when surrounded by such a variety of people would be rather simple, but the biggest reason is most likely the number of available test subjects.
"He would have to test out his method multiple times, to make certain that it works for more than just one group of people. Not to mention the differing lengths of time one has been deceased for must be considered. Naturally, for someone long dead, extra effort and resources would be needed."
The locket was forever looming over every thought of his, trickling into his dreams at night, forcing him to check for the loopy writing—his grandmother's name—in his waking moments.
Claudia Phantomhive was the sole thing he could see written on the locket, her dark curl his only focus.
He had never met her, nor had he been around for her funeral.
"It looks like he made a lot of progress in such a short amount of time, which ties in with the third connection. The appearance of a secret society," Snake said.
But soon the writing would be erased from his mind, replaced by the string he had been so desperate to hang on to.
Soon. So hurry up and make it "sooner".
"That is because associations like these often have a lot of power in their community. However, they can be influenced easily. Let's take the Aurora Society as an example. Most of the members were so passionate about bringing people back from the dead that they let themselves be manipulated by the Undertaker."
"I see now."
"And even if not all the members agreed, they listened to the ones who had, afraid that they might be singled out," Ciel muttered. He closed his eyes, stifling a yawn. He had waited for Snake to set up the bed, and while he did so, the boy had kept true to his word.
He had not slept; he merely dozed off a few times, and thus, his lids had grown heavier and heavier during his conversation with Snake.
"We can continue tomorrow, if you'd like. It's pretty late now anyway."
Ciel weighed the options.
He made his way to his bed. The real bed.
Once he was settled beneath the rough covers, he turned to face his footman, who was lying down beside the makeshift bed. There was one other thing looming over his thoughts.
Right behind the locket.
"Snake?"
"What is it?"
"If you're not a demon, then…what are you?"
He didn't receive a response.
Then, he saw Snake's shoulders shake, and shortly after, he heard a chuckle.
"You could call me a hybrid, I guess."
"Between a snake and a human?"
The chuckle turned into a quiet laugh.
"Don't laugh at your master's words."
"I'm sorry. I thought I told you this before, but apparently, I forgot," the laughter quickly died out, and Snake continued. "I'm not a hybrid in the sense that two species were crossed to get to me. See, the contract I made was so I could be changed."
"Well, what did you want to change into?"
"A human. As you can see, the transformation worked—partly."
Ciel closed his eyes.
Just one more thing.
"Why did you want to change into one so badly? There really is nothing special about being human."
"Hm. Not if you compare it to a terribly venomous little monster. The kind that hates the smell of weasels."
The basilisk. How interesting.
At least now there was nothing behind the locket. Perhaps but some mild curiosity.
That was all.