Sorry this took so long. I was watching Loveless and Sekaii Ichii Hatsukoi and got carried away. I'm back with a new chapter though. This takes off right where the first chapter left off, just saying.
"Ciel, would you mind waiting in the other room while we... converse?" Sebastian said, never taking his eyes off Uraiah. His height was intimidating, but she stood her ground, looking into his eyes with quiet defiance.
Ciel opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and he nodded politely, walking into the living room as asked.
Sebastian and Uraiah were left alone in the dimly lit kitchen, the glare of the full moon visible in the corner of the window. Sebastian reached out for her, pulling her into a light embrace, taking her arms and wrapping them around his waist. She swallowed her fear like a bitter tonic, her arms shaking as she pulled them away and leaned against the wall, feeling the rough faded brick under her fingers. She felt as if she were teetering on a ledge; one wrong move and she would go tumbling down and hit her head.
"I won't harm you, dear girl," Sebastian said, and he bent down on one knee and offered his hand. He bowed his head, black strands of hair falling into his eyes.
Uraiah didn't move. "I don't go to strangers. Now what are you doing in my house?" Her blue eyes blazed.
He chuckled, and stood up again, tugging at the white rose pinned to his suit jacket, fresh and untarnished by the wind and occasional dust clouds outside. "Very clever. They've taught you very well. It does not do for children to wander over to any mysterious gentleman that offers his company, especially young ladies."
He grabbed her dress, pulling her up by the back and up to his eye level, and frightened blue marbles met entrancing crimson.
He ran his fingers through her curls, twining them round his thumb carelessly. "Purity and darkness meeting in a chaste kiss, and so soon, in such a young and fragile body."
Uraiah gulped, and when he held her against his chest like a child would hold their favorite doll, protectively and possessively, she let out a sudden sob. She was too scared to scream, not wanting to shatter any peace and clarity that remained with the sound, and did not have the will not to stop the tears.
"Sleep now." The whisper came like a refreshing breeze in her ear. She welcomed it, and though she knew it was impossible, she was already closing her eyes, or someone else was, because she wasn't doing it of her own will. "Sleep..."
She woke with a feel of neutrality, of removal from all things, like she could leap off a cliff hundreds of feet in the air and survive, just by walking on the water on below. There was no sensation. It didn't amaze or astonish her; it was just what was.
She was lying on her back, and looking up at an endless expanse of white, no clouds or sky. Almost a ceiling of sorts, but she couldn't even tell how high it was. Everything around her was white, and there was no way to discern one thing from another. She sat up, and the lack of effort startled her, the first emotion she'd felt in this place. It was as if she weighed nothing, was made of air and mist. She saw the bare pale form of her leg, and realized she was naked, her torso bear of her dress and petticoat, her stockings and shoes nowhere in sight.
She felt so exposed, even though there was no one around, at least, not that she could see. She had felt a presence, she felt it like you feel that monster in your closet, that ghost breathing down your neck. It had eyes, and a mind, and it was here for her, she sensed.
A cool breeze wafted through the void suddenly, throwing wisps of her hair up and making her shiver as it hit her chest, her bare arms and legs. It came from nowhere and everywhere, and she turned confused in a side circle. It was almost annoying, the way it eluded her.
"Mou petite?" The voice echoed, and a ring of pleasure was heard behind it.
Uraiah stopped, and she found herself facing a dark figure standing a few feet away, one that certainly not been there before. It was silent as a shadow, and it's limbs were flowing as fluidly as candle flames as it seemed to glide on air to reach her.
"Sebastian," she acknowledged uneasily, walking backwards as subtly as possible. The butler was still in his uniform, but his white gloves had been removed, and what she saw on his right hand made her cover her mouth to keep from screaming.
His nails were black, the black of a bats wings as it fluttered past your face in the darknesss, that didn't appear to be paint or polish, but the nails actual colour. Strange, but not enough to cause her panic. What was enough was the marking on the back of his hand, a tattoo of sorts imbedded in the thin veined skin in dark ink. It was a star, surrounded by a wide circle with little lines extending from it, small but obvious, and it was glowing. A pale blue illuminarion emanated out from its perimeter, the marks own personal aura.
He lowered his eyes respectfully, and he held out the hand with the star and offered it to her. She stared at it, and the glow became brighter, but not from him. A new source of light poured blue into the whiteness. Uraiah tapped her chest, not darign to look down, but she felt heat that did not belong there, and saw the glow stifled as she placed her hand over it.
Sebastian was the picture of serentity as he pressed that glowing hand to her chest, right over her breastbone, and the twin lights flashed once, like a sputtering lantern, and then burned blindingly.
She covered her eyes, and when the blue flame died, there was sunlight, warm and pleasent on her naked body, and wide acres of fresh dewy grass that her bare feet crushed as she stood on it, and neat rows of wild white roses and lillies fencing her in on every side. Small marble fountains were placed at intervals throughout the garden, and a cobblestone walkway led up to the biggest house she had ever seen. It was like a palace, so inviting and with a sloping black roof and wide oak dorrs with golden knobs. She gaped at it, and birds chirped and insects buzzed about around her. It was a mansion, able to house possibly a hundred people, with shuttered windows on all three levels, open to the summer air on the third. She had no words for any of this and watched it with alarm building slowly inside her.
The image flickered suddenly, like a picture on a projector, on and off, and she was suddenly standing in a room with extremely high ceilings, and she was covered in a satin green dress with a ruffled skirt. She looked down at herself in these unfamiliar clothes and slammed her fist against the wall with anger. The bang echoed.
"What is going on!?" She yelled.
She saw a bed large enough for three people and went to it and sat down. She sighed and pinched the soft pink duvet in between her fingers. Mounds of pillows covered the bed, a combination of pink and mint green, and dolls rested against them, eyes blank and uncomprehending. There were many dolls, with glass eyes and fabric ones, with real hair and hair of yarn, of stuffing and porcelain. The room was many a little girls dream.
And it was gone just as quickly as the first paradise, this time in a flash of blue light.
"Sleep." Again the soothing timbre of his voice, the way it wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Sleep, indeed. It was a cordial invitation without the wax seal and cover of a envelope. She took it.
She woke to the sound of boots on hardwood, the hurried steps of someone impatiently pacing across the floor. She forced open her eyes, and it took all of her will not to just tumble back down into sleep.
A man with long red hair hanging down to his waist was walking back and forth in front of her as she lay in bed, muttering to himself, wiggling the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He had a long red cape that flowed behind him as he moved. He froze, and seemed to notice Uraiah for the first time. His irises were a golden yellow, like a cats eyes.
"I don't suppose you can tell me where my Bassy has gone?" He pouted, gesturing around the room dramatically.
Uraiah blinked, pulled the covers down off herself, and shook her head. "I'm afraid not. What does he look like?" Who on earth was this strange fellow?
The man smiled with enthusiasm, and she moaned fearfully at his mouth of sharp teeth. "Ah, a pity that you do not already know. His hair is as black as his heart, his form tall and graceful, and his eyes are a delicious red, the red of bright roses stained with life! He is a living effigy of live, a cruel mockery of death!"
"W-wait," she interrupted. "Did you say red eyes?"
The man huffed irritably. "Yes, didn't you hear me?"
"I know him," She said hesitantly. "But I don't know where he is, and I believe his name is Sebastian." She shifted awkwardly and rolled out of the bed, landing on her feet on the cool floor. She wore a nightgown now, long and white with sleeves covering her hands and the bottom pooling slightly on the floor. It was obviously made for someone taller. She pushed her tangled mop of yellow hair away from her face.
The odd man was about to say something when the door opened with a creak and a familiar butler stood glowering in the doorway. His hair was combed to perfection, and the red haired man touched his own with a faint blush to his cheeks, then tossed it aside as he stared at him in infatuation. "Bassy!" He said cheerfully, as he took a running leap and tacked Sebastian in a hug- almost, at least. The butler must have had extraordinary reflexes and strength, because he caught him in midair without even stumbling, holding him at bay while smiling courteously at Uraiah.
"Daughter," he greeted.
"Father."
Yes, the official beginning of the plot. *evil laugh* I have plans for this. There will a lot of Grell in this, so expect him to appear often. I will say this: This story is going to have one strange family in it.
Review?