Well hello again. It is I, Sophia. You know what's really awesome? What's awesome is the second that you realize that the events of the chapter you have just written perfectly reflect the title of your story that you began the previous year, having no idea of where it would go. And the more awesome part is realizing that you had no idea that they correlated until you went to upload the chapter.
Enjoy
Silence was all that awaited the two on the other side of the doors, silence and blinding light that coated every surface like dust on an ancient piano. Black and white marble comprised the entire floor, an enormous chessboard.
Undertaker let loose a maniacal chuckle. "Well, this is new," the shinigami laughed.
"Where is this?" The demon's eyes narrowed. Despite his inquiry, no answer came from the silver-haired legend. "Perhaps your ears have gone, Undertaker, but I believe it is common courtesy to provide an answer if one is in possession of such," Sebastian hissed, displeased with their lack of progress and his masters declining wellness.
"We're inside 'is soul of course," the shinigami answered, nodding towards the motionless form draped across Sebastian's arms. "We 'ave been for the last hour…" Sebastian let out a low, inaudible hiss.
"So then what now?" The demon questioned.
"Now… we part that angel from your companion," Undertaker chuckled. For once, the demon did not understand.
"If I'm not mistaken, you said we were inside bocchan's soul…"
"It's not as if you could compre'end in the first place," Undertaker smirked. "And it isn't your place to know, really." Sebastian's hand locked around the ex-shinigami's throat, iron in grip, ice in flesh.
"I'd watch your mouth, or do you not understand whom you are dealing with?" The demon's eyes narrowed to slits and widened again as he felt the cold edge of metal against the back of his own neck. A feral smile stretched across Undertaker's lips.
"I'd watch your own neck first. Didn't give myself that scar, you know?" Sebastian snarled fiercely, releasing his hold. Smoothly, Undertaker whipped his scythe back into place, where it rested, a killer crescent, over his head. "And 'ere we are." The man's long, silver hair rippled with the goose bumps that traversed his scalp. Sebastian's eyes traveled down to a single marble basin. Within it, an orb rested, its surface crawling like thousands of insects.
With superhuman precision, Undertaker raised the scythe and brought it down directly across the sphere's center.
With a flash of light, the orb divided into two, one white, one black. "Your sweetheart is quite the fighter," Undertaker laughed.
"What are you talking about?" Sebastian growled, half annoyed, half startled. The white sphere shattered into a hundreds of tiny fragments.
"You should focus more on that angel of yours," the shinigami warned in a most amused voice. "But you should know what happens when our scythes touch a human soul…" Cinematic records. Sebastian wrinkled his nose, but paid the reaper no mind for the shards had begun reforming, the new shape inhuman, yet frighteningly beautiful. "I'll watch your beau for you," Undertaker offered. Wordlessly, Sebastian placed Ciel's form in the basin, gazed a moment at the boy's face, and silently lowered his lips so that they barely brushed his masters, noting their freezing temperature.
"Touching," Angela's cold voice rang, clear and piercing. "How is it that a demon could fall in love, I wonder…" Cat-like in movement, Sebastian approached the demon, crimson eyes burning with rage, pulling off his white gloves.
"Bocchan's soul isn't yours to tamper with, parasite," the raven haired man spat, pulling several knives from his pocket. The demon's powerful arm swung in a perfect arc, but the angel intercepted him, blocking the blades with a diamond encrusted dagger. She then threw a slash back at him, nicking his cheek. A thin line of blood formed on the demon's face. Angela's perfect lips turned up at one corner, silently mocking him. Lightening in speed, the demon aimed several jabs for her stomach, which she sidestepped, slashing the edge of her weapon and cutting cleanly through the polished silverware.
"I'm afraid it was you who interrupted my ritual, scum," she laughed, white hair shimmering. For several seconds, the demon launched consecutive, lethal attacks, which Angela avoided all too easily. One of the demon's attacks, however, caused her to raise her left arm far above her head. Hissing in pain, the angel lifted one hand to her shoulder blade. "That transformation was painful for me too, you know." Her tone changed to that of disgust. The dagger in her hand elongated to form a short sword. "That pain wasn't really necessary—" Sebastian barely circumvented the bite of her blade, whose movement would have lopped off his right leg, had it intercepted. "You should ask that love of yours for a weapon," she taunted. Images of a weapon flashed across his subconscious. Instantaneously, a flawless replica of the demon sword appeared in his hand.
"You would have turned Bocchan into a pathetic maggot like yourself; now you'll die for his suffering." Sebastian smirked, giving the perfectly balanced blade a turn. With each flick of his wrist, the sword responded with brutal force, almost sentient itself. "Your god will be pleased… Dying just as the Savior; what an honor." Boldly, Sebastian threw the blade against Angela's, causing one of the diamonds in the angelic weapon's hilt to break loose. It fell to the floor, producing a high-pitched chime as the faceted surface collided with the veined marble. Her face contorted with pain as the muscles in her back flexed.
"Much as that would please me," the angel mused. "I have yet to fulfill that boy's wish… All he wanted was to know what love felt like," she pleaded. "But a demon can't love, and you know that. I will return him to his parents, to his family." Having recovered shortly, Angela retuned a wildly powerful blow that sent the demon staggering back several feet. "If you do love that boy, then you'll let him be happy!" Her voice raised to a scream, shattering in volume. It sliced at Sebastian's flesh, many times sharper than her blade. Several deep gashes opened up along the full length of his body, prompting a savage growl that resonated from deep within the demon's throat.
"When I contracted that boy, he knew fully what he was doing!" Sebastian roared. "So I'll tell you again," the butler threatened; shimmering, the demon blade flashed to a straight line above his head. "It isn't your place to interfere!" With barbaric strength and savage will, Sebastian brought the blade down, slicing cleanly through the Angel's blade and carving a crimson streak down the entire length of her torso. The gnarled green blade screamed, shattering into thousands of razor tipped shards which joined the angel's blood, painting a fresco of death and pain on the massive checkered canvas.
Both weapons eradicated, the two slammed into each other, their blood mingling as fingernails pierced and sliced into skin. A well-placed kick shattered several of the demon's ribs, and he groaned at the aching that spread through his chest. Angered, Sebastian threw the angel to the floor, savoring the satisfying snap that her wings gave as she landed heavily upon them. Angela released a shriek of pain before she picked herself back up and landed a punch squarely across Sebastian's cheek, leaving a large, rapidly swelling welt that throbbed, purple from the damaged blood vessels. "Leach," the demon hissed, before throwing his fist into her ribcage. Several bones snapped with a sickening crunch. The angel's breathing grew labored as her punctured lung filled with blood.
"You think you've won, but you haven't," she choked between blocking his attacks. "That boy will die anyways; the reaper's scythe already touched him!" Then she laughed, coughing up a mouthful of gleaming blood. Enraged, Sebastian snatched a shard of green from the floor and shoved it through her heart. "You lose," Angela whispered as her eyes slipped peacefully closed.
The image collapsed into a vial, filled to the brim with clear liquid. Exhausted, Sebastian lifted the bottle into his hand, pulled the stopper from it, and downed the contents, shivering as the liquid traveled down his throat, freezing like ice.
Sebastian turned to find a deathly pale Ciel still unconscious in the basin, his royal blue coat stained black with liquid that overflowed the shallow bowl and spilled onto the floor.
The reaper was gone.
No trace of the black sphere remained.
It started with a dream, and it will end with a dream. How ridiculously poetic, don't you think?
Until the next chapter, happy writing/reading, all.
~Sophia