A/N: Here's chapter two! I figured I'd post it right after chapter one to give you readers something to enjoy before I try spacing out when I post chapters. I may also work on chapter three this week too, but I may not get it up as fast as this one.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji in any way, shape or form.
It was only a few minutes before the clacking of hooves on cobblestone alerted me of the carriage's arrival, and even less time for me to be seated into it with the letter out in my hand as I reread it for any missed details. Why would a person choose to kill two noble children and leave everything else alone? It was unsettling. I growled under my breath as the carriage hit a rather large bump, causing me to jostle a bit too much for my liking. "Sebastian I thought I told you to choose the smooth path so I could read."
"My lord, I remember your exact words telling me to get the quickest way to London and to bring the letter for you to read, never saying to choose the smoothest path." I despise that smirk he's always wearing, I would smack it off but he would just pull some wise comment about my temper. Really, he can be a bother sometimes.
"Just shut up Sebastian." All I got in response was a simple, "Yes My lord" practically drowned in amusement. He could tell he had gotten to me. Of all the demons in Hell I would've gotten stuck with. For the rest of the ride neither of us spoke, I was too busy analyzing the reports that the Scotland Yard had left and Sebastian, well he was doing whatever Sebastian does. Daydream about cats, or whatever.
London was rather busy for a Tuesday morning, filled with mothers dragging whining children throughout the crowds, business men chatting in front of stores, and local paper boys shouting out for someone to come pick up the morning newspaper. Stepping out of the carriage, I noted that the air was still cold considering it was close to 10 a.m. My boots crunched against the sidewalk as I strode ahead of Sebastian and towards the one shop I always dreaded going in.
The sign was still broken from the last time we were here. It tilted greatly to one side and needed a new paint job badly. The door gave off a deafening squeak as it was opened, causing me to cringe. Honestly, it wouldn't kill him to fix some of these things. The inside of the shop smelled rancid, like decomposition. I walked blindly throughout the building, even with candles lit, the place was draped in darkness. A low cackling rang throughout the air as I felt something brush past my feet. Jumping back, I looked down to see a skull still rolling its way passed me. "Enough with the games! I don't have time for this right now Undertaker!"
"Earl Phantomhive~ Such a joy to see you here now isn't it? Are you here for one of my coffins?" the lid of a mahogany coffin slid off, half a face revealing itself from behind. He still wore that disturbing smile all the damn time.
"No, you know what I'm here for." I could feel the scowl on my face. "I don't have time for your games."
"You know the price you have to pay to see my pretty little dolls~" Of course, why wouldn't he try to not waste my time? I just glanced to Sebastian and turned to make my way out of the funeral parlor. This ritual of making him laugh has become such a useless ritual, Sebastian already knows what he has to do long before we get anywhere near the Undertaker's shop.
After standing outside for only a mere few seconds, as if on cue, the funeral parlor was filled with his booming laughter. It may have been loud enough to break the sign even further. I took my place before Sebastian once again, with his ever so sly smirk plastered to his face once again. "Alright Undertaker, where are the bodies? I'd appreciate if you didn't waste anymore of my time."
As ordered, he led me through into the depths of the building. Behind a simple violet curtain laid two bodies resting peacefully inside their coffins. From afar only the most violent of wounds were visible, but upon closer investigation I could see the thin line running across both of their necks. The fatal blow seemed to have been cut so precisely, unusual. During my inspection I noticed that the yard was right in their reports about the missing finger, both having their right index fingers removed with the same careful incisions. I ordered Sebastian to mark those down, they'd be crucial to finding our killer.
"Good day Undertaker. If you find anything else on the corpses, you can expect us to make another visit." After bidding farewell we were out in the heart of London once again. I ordered Sebastian to fetch me a newspaper from thepaperboy in front of a local sweets shop. I unfolded the paper as I sat in the carriage. On the front page was the report of a murder, one that was almost identical to the first two. "Damn it!" I mumbled glaring at the paper. "Her Majesty wanted this case to stay secretive! Leave it to those idiots at the Scotland Yard to get it leaked into the media." At least it was just one murder and not all of them. As long as only that murder is known, then London won't think it's a serial killer. We just need to get this under control, and fast. "Sebastian, change of plans. Tell the coachmen to drive us to Lord Carnol's manor. We have another murder to investigate."
The sun was high up in the sky when we arrived at the manor, signaling the midday. A breeze had settled in, disturbing my hair as I walked up the steps and before the front door. Sebastian rasped his knuckles against the door three times, giving off a loud knock each time. Sir Randall opened the door instead of Lord Carnol, that means the Scotland Yard was already investigating the entire house. "We don't need your assistance Phantomhive, we have this case under control." A scowl ran deep on his face.
"Well it seems her majesty thinks other wise Lord Randall." I held the letter I was given up high before me with a victorious smirk when I saw his frustration. My smirk stayed in place as I walked in after hearing him mumble what he thought was a subtle "Damn brat". I surveyed the area I was in, the parlor. Nothing had been touched, and oddly enough there was no body. We were instead guided upstairs by Randall into the drawing-room.
In a lounge chair placed before the fireplace sat Lord Carnol, a young man of only twenty-one. A glass rested on the floor next to the armrest, the rim facing us and the liquor that once inhabited the glass spilled out onto the carpet leaving nothing but a ghost of a stain now. Before stepping further into the room to investigate the body, something else caught my eye. On the other side of the room beside the chair the deceased lord sat in was someone else, not dead and not part of the Scotland Yard.
He stood observing the body with cold eyes, his chin held in his hand by his thumb and forefinger as he thought, his other hand rested on his hip. He stood there adorned in a red attire consisting of a red jacket, black vest, white shirt with a red bow tied around his neck, red shorts and polished black dress shoes. He looked up to talk to the man dressed in black beside him but he caught a glance of me and an evil smirk found its way onto his features. "Oh if it isn't CIel Phantomhive here to investigate. Did the queen want her guard dog to join her spider?"
I didn't expect to see him here. Having the yard here was bad enough, but now I have to deal with Alois Trancy as well. This case is going to enjoy throwing obstacles at me. "Not now Trancy, I don't know if you got the same request as me, but her majesty wants these murders to stay a secret so this killer needs to be caught as soon as possible." I walked forward to look at the body. Nothing too fancy was done to him, he just sat slouched back into the chair staring blankly up to the ceiling. His hand hung limply off the armrest, missing his index finger just like the others. His throat adorned the very thin line I had searched for. Aside from the blood that had fallen from his throat when it was slit, he was rather clean. No other stab wounds or cuts, just the slit throat. Another thing I found odd was the lack of a message, I knew it was the same killer so why wasn't there a message?
"You might want to check the study while you're here. You might find what you're looking for." That was the last thing he said to me before going back to talking with his butler, Claude, about the corpse. On my way out I could hear him laugh darkly as he talked about the death of this man and the others, sickening me. What sane person could laugh at such gruesome events?
The study was covered in broken glass, presumably from the smashed window that was behind the desk. The papers that rested on the desk were in disarray and some had been scattered on the floor. On the carpet rested the message I had looked for, but this one was different. I didn't expect the message I got. Stained into the carpet with blood were the words 'Ready for this game of chess Earl Phantomhive?' How would the killer have known I was working on this case? It hadn't been reported in the morning paper. The only way he would know is if the killer was…. Watching me.