Hi again! I caught a real break with writing this week; this whole chapter only took me three days total!
Moony: She means that since her parents were out of town, she convinced her grandparents to let her write for pretty much all of the weekend.
Yup^^ But, since I'm basically failing math-
Moony: It's not basically if your average is below a 70%. You are actually failing, moron.
Wahhh! You're so meeeeeaaan! So yeah, I'll probably be grounded for a while, which is bad because I really love writing Fallen. Yes, Moony. I just nicknamed my story 'Fallen'.
Moony: No comment. You make this too easy. Whatever. Maya doesn't own Kuroshitsuji, although she did buy her school's library a copy of volume three to replace the one they lost.
*fuming* I hadn't even read it yet, and some dirtbag thinks they can just hoard it for themselves for x months with no penalty?
Moony: Ignore her and enjoy this chappie.
Anya froze. Ciel and Sebastian had warned her in advance, but she still wasn't prepared for there to be so many people! From wall to wall, the spacious hall was packed with courtiers mingling with their friends and business associates. The gentlemen wore suits of dark silk, the ladies a rainbow of shimmering satin. With only a casual glance, the Earl and his maid could tell that they were by far the youngest of the crowd, although they were dressed just as finely.
With their arms still linked, they made their way into the throng. Ciel guided Anya deftly through the swarming guests, searching for any familiar faces. He gestured politely to an Asian man who was lounging around with a scantily-clad young woman, laughing and drinking wine.
"That's Lau," Ciel explained under his breath. "Head of England's Chinese trading branch, and also a proprietor for most of England's opium dens." Anya, wide eyed, tried not to glance back at this news. She kept her carefully composed "Party Face" firmly in place, pretending to laugh at some joke that had not been made.
Out of the corner of her eye, Anya spotted two strangely dressed Indian men on the other side of the hall. They were both waving and calling out, seemingly trying to gain Lord Phantomhive's attention.
"My lord," Anya nudged his arm.
"Anya?" he laughed. "Why are you being so formal, cousin? People will think that you don't even know me!" While he laughed, his eye was sending her an urgent message. Anya laughed along with him, inwardly cursing herself.
Wasn't the entire point of this charade to make everyone think that they were related? In between Sebastian's crash courses on etiquette, dance, and recent family history, the point had been stressed several times: In conversation, address the Earl as "Ciel" or merely "cousin".
"How could that be, C-Ciel?" she stammered. "We are related after all!" Relief coursed through her as curious eavesdroppers around them shrugged and continued chatting. "But those two men over there seem to want your attention rather badly."
Ciel followed her gaze and cursed under his breath. The Indians saw this and rushed toward them, one whooping with glee while the other trailed behind, the picture of calm. As they drew near, Anya could make out some of the energetic one's words.
"Cieeeeel!~" he crowed. "Why weren't you at home? We left the townhouse to visit you, but you were already gone!"
"Hello again, Prince Souma." Ciel sighed in defeat.
Anya gasped, and Souma finally seemed to notice her. In a flash, he had grabbed the Earl and was hissing at him furiously.
"Are you stepping out on little sister Elizabeth?" he fumed. Both Ciel and Anya, who had overheard, turned scarlet.
"Of course I-!"
"He wouldn't-!"
"Aha!" Prince Souma shouted triumphantly. "Your guilty faces are the proof! Shame on you Ciel! SHAME!"
"Your Highness," spoke a clear, authoritative voice. "You are jumping to conclusions."
The trio turned their gaze to the fourth person to speak, the other Indian. He had arrived at the Prince's elbow and was now trying to calm him down.
"But Agni~" he whined. "Ciel is-."
"Prince Souma, Agni," Ciel cut in. "May I introduce you to my younger cousin, Anya Midford."
Anya waved shyly.
"I didn't know Elizabeth had a sister…" the Prince stated suspiciously. "Why haven't I met you before?" Anya regained some of her confidence; they had prepared for this.
"Lizzie is mycousin," she lied smoothly. "Ciel is like a second cousin of sorts, from my father's side." Ciel made a small humming sound; he approved. Everything was going well so far.
"Lizzie has the flu," she continued, warming up to her theme. "She caught it last minute, and I was visiting her home when Ciel came to pick her up." She glanced at the Earl. "You'd already had that new suit made, hadn't you?"
"Indeed," Ciel picked up the lie. "Elizabeth knew how much I wanted to attend this party, and Miss Nina would have killed me if I let her fantastic work go to waste."
"So Lizzie said it was alright for me to accompany Ciel tonight," Anya finished. "Since the invitation said that you had to bring a partner."
They both held their breath while Prince Souma considered their lie. As a friend of the family, Anya worried. Prince Souma would have to be completely stupid to-
"Wonderful!" the Prince cried, drawing them all into a group hug. "Now little brother Ciel and I have even more family!"
"Little… brother?" squeaked Anya, struggling to breathe.
"Tell you… later." Ciel gasped, wrenching away from the Indian's embrace.
"By the way, Souma," Ciel jibed. "How did you get in? I don't see your partner anywhere." The Prince put on a bored face.
"I wasn't invited," he revealed. "Your servants told me you were here, so Agni snuck us in."
"Why, you slimy little-!"
Suddenly, the gas lamps in the hall were dimmed, leaving only the top of the grand staircase in candle light. At the head of the stairs, a red velvet curtain was pulled aside, and a young woman was revealed. She had startling red hair, which was offset by her pale, flawless skin and clear blue eyes. Her green party dress could be heard swishing around her ankles as she approached the banister, because the entire assembly had gone silent.
"Greetings, everyone," she chimed. Her voice was high, clear, and sharp as crystal. "Thank you all for attending this evening. I am Catrina Soly, your hostess. This Gala was thrown for the sole purpose of bringing everyone together for a time of food, drink, and merry-making. The Equinox is upon us, and the daylight hours are perfectly balanced with the hours of the night. Let this magic lift your hearts and lighten your spirits. There will be an orchestra playing soon, so everyone have a wonderful time and share a dance with your partner. Enjoy!"
With that, Catrina Soly clapped her hands twice. Instantly, the light returned to the room and the orchestra started up a beautiful waltz. Everywhere, the gentlemen began bowing to their partners, asking for the pleasure of a dance. Soon, the center of the floor was filled with tapping feet and swirling skirts. To Ciel's irritation, their host had descended the stairs on the opposite side of them, and was now all the way across the hall from them.
"Blast," he muttered. "We'll have to dance our way across."
"But Sebastian said that you were a terrible dancer," Anya blurted. She smacked herself on the forehead. I really need to keep my mouth shut.
"Did he now?" Ciel smirked. "Remind me later to ask you whatever else he might have let slip about our last undercover ball, won't you?"
Looking through the window from the branches of an overhanging elm, Sebastian scowled as he read the lips of his young master and assistant. You will pay for that, Criel.
"Sorry," Anya mouthed. She knew that Sebastian must be glaring at her from somewhere, watching them. It should be impossible for him to actually know what they were saying, but you could never put anything past that butler.
Ciel bade Prince Souma and Agni a good evening and they made their way to the dance floor. Ciel noticed with some amusement that Anya visibly stiffened when he took her waist. Her left hand trembled against his shoulder, and her right hand clutched his left hand in a terrified grasp.
"Are you nervous?" he asked politely. Anya shook her head jerkily; she could do this. She had practiced this very waltz with Sebastian only hours ago. While it had been stiff and awkward, she had completed the steps easily enough.
"I've danced before," she whispered. "Just not in front of... people."
"Just let me lead," Ciel assured her. "We don't have to be the best dancers; we only need to cross the hall unnoticed. Remember what Sebastian taught you."
"... Alright." Anya assented. "Let's go."
And suddenly, they were right in the middle of the dancers, weaving their way to the other end of the floor. Ciel guided them expertly around the taller courtiers, lightly nudging Anya into each turn and spin. While concentrating on her feet, Anya found the breath to speak.
"Well, I suppose this makes Sebastian a liar for saying that you can't dance."
Ciel didn't break stride.
"Sebastian never lies. I suppose the man's dancing role simply comes more naturally to me than the woman's."
Anya stumbled a bit. "You mean, that undercover mission was-"
"An unpleasant experience that I don't wish to discuss at the moment."
Anya kept her silence. The song ended with them just at the edge of the dancers. Everyone bowed to their partners, Anya perhaps a bit lower than most. But they had done it! Anya could see Lady Soly only a few feet to her right, chatting with and congratulating the passing dancers.
"Get ready," muttered Ciel, taking Anya's arm once again. Together, they approached their hostess. Ciel quickly introduced himself, and Lady Soly followed suit.
"And who is this, hiding behind you?" she teased, tucking a stray red hair behind her ear. "Do I have the pleasure of finally meeting the renowned daughter of the Knights of England?"
Ciel coaxed Anya forward, and she bobbed a small curtsy customary from noble to noble. "I'm afraid not, Lady Soly. That would be my dear cousin Elizabeth, who was unable to attend this evening. The Earl is also my cousin, so I accompanied him tonight so that he could attend your wonderful gala. You have a beautiful home, by the way."
Ciel watched as Anya's years of social training kicked in. Where before she had been an awkward speaker, she became an eloquent aristocrat under pressure. Catrina inclined her head to the compliment.
"Thank you, and thank you both for attending this evening. You know," she added. "A few close friends of mine will be staying afterwards for a little private get-together. Would the two of you mind attending?"
Ciel and Anya exchanged subtle glances.
So this is how it works...
She invites her target...
To an after party...
That doesn't exist...
Corners them...
And eventually...
Kills them.
"We would be honored." they accepted simultaneously. Their hostess beamed at them, then took off toward someone she evidently recognized. Ciel and Anya looked at each other, and silently congratulated themselves. They were in.
"That was rather... easy." Anya finally commented. There was nothing to do now but mingle and wait for the party to end.
"Perhaps too easy?" Ciel guessed as they meandered in the direction of the refreshment table. They each helped themselves to a mild glass of punch.
"Well," stated Anya. "It was all rather obvious, the way she invited us straight out like that. There were even others near us. They were probably listening in."
"It wouldn't matter if they were," Ciel argued. "All they heard was that you and I would be joining Lady Soly and several nameless others for a small gathering. Nothing suspicious about that at all."
"I wonder if there will actually be others there, or if the trap is for a single person only." Anya mused. She frowned, brow furrowing in concentration. Something's missing...
Ciel's gaze wandered from face to face in the crowd, scanning for anyone else familiar to chat with until the end of the gala. His eye fell on a tall, bespectacled fellow in a dark suit. The man's back was turned to them, but, as if feeling Ciel's gaze, he turned to look straight at them. Ciel's breath caught in his throat as he took in the familiar features of-
"William Spears," Ciel growled. Anya snapped out of her trance, and finally had her answer; the missing element.
"Ciel, the-!"
"Not now, Anya." Ciel snapped, shoving his empty glass into her free hand. "There is a- an associate whom I must greet. No, you can't come; it's dangerous. Go stand by the door, and I'll be right back." Helpless, Anya could only watch her master's retreating form until he was lost in the crowd. She followed his order's, making her way to the small service door near the stairs. Leaning against the wall, she drained her glass. Anya ran the question through her head again and again; what became of the victims' partners?
According to Sebastian's investigation, the victims had only four things in common: They were all male. They were all major figures in the English economic system, and favored by Her Majesty the Queen. They had all been given invitations identical to the one that Lord Phantomhive received. (Somehow, the butler had commandeered these for his search.) And they had all been found after the parties, dead in the streets. Alone.
Surely, thought Anya. The Earl and I weren't the only victims to be invited as a pair? If the business dealers were murdered, where are their partners, since they couldn't have attended without one?
Searching frantically, Anya finally spotted Ciel and the man called William arguing by the terrace. She braced herself. Order or no order, she had to speak with Ciel about this matter; it could affect both of their safeties. As she stepped forward to find her way through the crowd again, something hard crashed into her with alarming speed. Anya fell back hard, cracking her head against the wall. Both glasses flew up into the air before shattering on the tile floor only inches from Anya's feet. Sprawled across her legs was a young serving boy carrying an empty tray. He pushed his platinum hair from his eyes, groaning in pain.
"What was..." he began, and then realized that it wasn't the floor he was laying on. His eyes traveled from Anya's knees to meet her eyes, and he gasped.
"Oh, no!" he wailed, pulling himself up frantically. "I am so sorry! I didn't see you at all, my lady, and- Oh, I've made another mess of things!" The boy politely apologized and helped Anya to her feet, where she stayed for maybe three seconds before swaying and almost falling again. The boy caught her by the elbows, trying to keep her upright.
"My lady?" he asked, worry shining in his blue eyes. "Are you hurt?"
"...Head." Anya moaned. She tenderly touched a quivering hand to the back of her head. It came away stained scarlet. "Ow," she whispered. The boy's eyes widened at the sight of the blood.
"You hit your head? I hope you didn't get a concussion... Oh, and your dress! It'll be ruined if we let that stain set!" With blurry eyes, Anya looked down at the pretty pink dress. The front of the skirt was now soaked with punch.
"Come with me, my lady," the boy urged. "I'll get a doctor, and someone to clean you up. Is that okay?" Anya nodded slowly. It hurt to nod.
"Who?" she murmured as the blue-eyed boy led her through the service door, signaling for another serving boy with purple hair to clean up the mess on the floor. I must have really hit my head hard. she thought, already half asleep. I'm seeing three of that boy all at once!
Anya's escort grinned, showing off unusually long canines.
"Try to stay awake, Miss. My name is Colin, Colin Arysta."
"I continue to request," the Shinigami remarked. "That you keep your dog on its leash at all times, little Earl."
"And I continue to demand," Ciel retorted. "That you stop changing the subject, Spears. What in blazes are you doing here?" William pushed his glasses into place restlessly.
"What else?" he deadpanned. "I'm on business. Someone here is on my List To Die."
"Leave, Shinigami," Ciel seethed. "I'm here on delicate business, so stay out of my way. Sebastian is acting on my orders alone. In fact, I can see him now, right outside the window there." Ciel nodded to the window, and William turned to see the small, glowing eyes in the tree bob twice in response.
"Well," he said. "That does make things interesting." He scanned the crowd around them, as if looking for someone.
"What is interesting?"
"It seems," William explained. "That there is at least one more devil here tonight, other than yours."
"What?" Ciel cried, and then lowered his voice to keep from attracting attention. "Who is it?"
"I'm afraid I don't know. Unfortunately, I've come to recognize your dog's scent. That is a peculiar sensation for me, because I've never had to deal with one devil for so long without killing it. I've smelled this one before, but I can't place it." William sighed. "I can already tell that this is going to spell 'overtime' for me. In any case, keep on your toes. I pity the unknowing fools in this jumble; they wouldn't think of a pretty face and a few kind words hiding a monster like that. Any trusting fool would be completely helpless, don't you agree, Earl?" William turned to where Ciel should have been, but the Earl had vanished.
"Oh, well. With any luck, he's been snatched by the other devil and- Drat, that still means overtime."
Sebastian observed his young master leave the Shinigami. He hadn't caught much of the conversation, only that there may be other demons in the area. Suddenly, the branch he was crouching on disappeared from under him. Only the butler's sharp reflexes allowed him to land serenely on his feet from the forty-foot drop. Looking up, he found himself surrounded by the servants of a bitter enemy. As calmly as possible, Sebastian unsheathed his impressive array of silverware. They wanted a fight.
Ciel shoved his way through the Counts, Dukes, and Earls as quickly and politely as possible. A feeling of dread settled upon his heart when he reached the service door; Anya was nowhere in sight. He struggled to calm himself.
"Sebastian," he murmured. "Come here. I need to talk to you." A few seconds later, the butler appeared on the other side of the door. He looked extremely shaken. His hair was unkempt and his clothes nearly in shreds.
"What happened?" Ciel breathed.
"It's Trancy, my lord. He and his servants."
"That son of a- never mind. Where is Anya?"
"I don't know, my lord. Moments after you left the Shinigami, they attacked me. Claude and Hannah kept me away from the hall, and after a while the triplets joined them. My lord, I must leave before they track me back to the hall; the guests-"
"Alright," Ciel cut in. "Keep them away from the hall, just find Anya. If Trancy really is here, he probably tried the same stunt as last time. Check the extra rooms for any sign of life. This is an order: Save Anya and defeat them. Do not lose. Now go!"
Sebastian bowed quickly and took off into the rest of the mansion, the door slamming from the speed of his departure. Ciel continued roaming about the hall as if nothing had happened. After only a few minutes, something important was glaring in his mind. Catrina Soly had also disappeared.
Anya stirred; sleep still shrouding her muddled mind. She'd been having a dream... about a party. Ciel was there, and a strange boy with clear eyes... As she began to wake up, Anya's senses came back slowly.
The first thing she was aware of was the aching in the back of her skull. That's right; she had hit her head when she fell. She reached a hand out to examine the wound, but found that her arms wouldn't move. Her whimper of complaint was muffled by a cloth wrapped tightly around her mouth. And, ever so slowly, she became aware of the murmur of voices.
"She will wake soon, Your Highness." The cold, calculating voice penetrated the fog in her brain, and she shivered involuntarily. This voice was ice itself.
"I have ears, Claude," another voice snapped. It was familiar... it sounded like the serving boy, Colin. He sounded irate. "She can probably even hear us now. Didn't you see? She doesn't like your voice."
"My apologies, Your Highness. I did not mean to insult your intelligence." There was a loud scraping noise, and Anya's eyes were startled open. All she saw was darkness.
"Your Highness, she is fully awake now. May I?" Footsteps. They were close, and getting closer.
"Hurry up, will you? Those incompetents of mine won't keep the butler busy for long."
Anya felt cold breath on her neck as "Claude" leaned over her and pulled away the blindfold obscuring the maid's vision. She blinked against the dim light, her eyes adjusting quickly.
The first thing she saw was Colin, no longer dressed in a serving uniform, but in an ostentatiously rich (and rather tacky) suit and coat. He was lounging on a sofa directly across from her, his knee-high boots propped on the armrest. Observing him made Anya wonder exactly what position she was in, as she still couldn't make her limbs work. She glanced down at herself, and the only thing that stopped her cry of outrage was the gag that still silenced her.
Someone had removed her frilly dress, leaving only the various layers of underclothes she had worn. She spotted the dress hanging on the back of a wooden chair, completely dry and stainless. Now that she could think, Anya wondered how the dress had gotten wet to begin with, seeing as both her glasses and Colin's tray had been empty at the time of the crash.
Her bare feet were bound with rope, as were her arms. With a few experimental tugs, Anya realized that her arms were not only bound to each other, but also to the bedpost behind her back. She herself was half-kneeling on the bed in a very uncomfortable position, and both her arms and her legs had grown numb.
Anya gazed at Colin with pleading eyes, her small sounds of confusion and fear falling on deaf ears. Colin would help her, wouldn't he? He had been so kind before.
"So," he sneered. "You're the Earl's new little toy? Honestly, I don't see it. Oh, come now," he snarled, cutting off her muffled protests. "Don't expect me to fall for that stupid 'distant-cousin' act. Really, could you have been any more obvious? How pathetic." Anya's eyes pooled with tears. Before, Colin's voice had been polite and friendly. It was now mean-spirited and cold. Why was he being cruel?
"Indeed, Your Highness."
Anya jumped. She had almost forgotten about Claude. Twisting her neck as far as she could, Anya could just catch a glimpse of a smart suit, dark hair, and rectangular glasses. He inclined his head at her.
"Good evening, Miss. As my master says, you may want to brush up a bit on your acting."
Anya's head snapped back to face Colin. This boy was the frightening man's "master"? Apparently annoyed with her unintelligible mumbles, Colin gestured for Claude to remove the gag.
"Don't raise your voice," he advised. "Or I'll have Claude break one of your arms." He laughed openly at Anya's terrified face. "Now, let's get down to business; tell me everything you know about Lord Phantomhive, and you leave here unscathed. Deal?"
William T. Spears wandered the empty grounds of the mansion while reading his little notebook. He checked his watch; 11:40. Only twenty minutes until he was due to judge this person's soul. It wasn't really a strange thing, to die exactly on the stroke of midnight, but it was a rare occasion for William. He had only judged four other "midnighters" during his career, and they had all been judged favorably.
"But," he said aloud. "I can't allow that to cloud my reason for tonight. As a Shinigami, it is my duty to review and critique a person's Cinematic Record fairly and-"
"Waaaah! Will, you're such a downer~!" cried a voice from above his head. Without altering his pace, William extended his Death Scythe at a tree branch and made contact with the interloper. A bundle of red fell at his feet, and he simply stepped over it to continue on his way. The bundle scrambled to its feet and followed William, clutching its head in pain.
"Aw, Will! That was uncalled for!"
"What do you want, Grelle?" The red haired man gawked at William before responding, "To see my dear Sebas-chan, of course! Don't hold out on me, I know he's here tonight!"
William sighed. "Fine, you can come along. I suppose you could actually be useful, what with this place being infested with demons."
"Yay~!" cried Grelle. "So," he probed, sneaking a peek over William's shoulder. "Who's the lucky gal?" On the open page of William's notebook was a picture of a young brunette with sad violet eyes. It was followed by the words:
Name: Anya Criel
Age: 14
T.O.D.: 12:00 A.M., 24 of September
C.O.D.: Broken neck
Assignment: Incomplete
Anya gaped at him. "What do-? Who are-? Why is-?"
"You must be really dumb," Colin sighed. "I ask you a simple question, and you can't even answer it. You're even worse than my stupid butler." Anya felt Claude flinch at her side, and, despite everything, felt a stab of sympathy for him. Ciel never talks to Sebastian that way.
"Who are you, really?" Anya demanded, keeping her voice low. She somehow knew that he had been serious about breaking her arm.
"I guess it wouldn't hurt to at least tell you that, I suppose," he conceded. "I am the Earl Alois Trancy, and you are my key to Ciel Phantomhive."
"Key?" Anya snorted. "I'm his maid. I'm disposable, understand? I came along with Ciel tonight only because Lady Elizabeth was unable to, and he was so determined to catch the monster who murdered all those people. Lady Soly's invitation insisted to bring a partner, and I was on hand."
"A maid, eh? Then you must be one hell of a maid, for him to allow you to address him so casually." Anya wanted to smack herself. Trancy wouldn't believe her if she tried to explain her slip of the tongue. She hung her head, silent. She kept still even as Alois extricated himself from the sofa and slowly approached her.
A searing pain rippled across her scalp, and only by biting her lip until she tasted blood did Anya keep her screams at bay. Alois jerked her head farther back by the roots of her hair, forcing her to meet his sadistic gaze.
"You couldn't be just a maid to Ciel," the madman hissed. "None of his real servants ever call him by his first name, not even his precious demon." The tears in Anya's eyes finally spilled over. What was this boy saying? This talk of demons was insane!
"What are you to him?" the voice in her ear whispered. The fisted hand in Anya's hair slowly untangled itself and brought the crying maid into a gentle, one-sided embrace. Anya sniffled into Alois's shoulder, unable to pull away. Despite herself, she began mulling over the question.
Ciel definitely wasn't interested in her romantically; she had seen his eye light up as he spoke Elizabeth's name. It was a name he treasured, and cared for more than anything.
However, Anya realized, she hadn't been treated like the other members of the staff. She had put it down to her inexperience of being in the Earl's service, but Anya now remembered that Ciel had been exceedingly kind to her before she even began her job. He had offered her a home before work or payment was even mentioned. He hadn't treated her as a stranger, or even as a servant. It was as if...
"I'm his friend," Anya sobbed. The truth of her statement resonated in her entire being. They were all her friends, and good ones too. Even Sebastian, she thought with a small smile. Anya fell back as Alois pushed her away from him and just stood at the edge of the bed.
"Friend," he muttered, as if saying the unfamiliar word for the first time. "You are his friend?" He abruptly drew back his hand and smacked Anya across the face. The force of the blow made her head connect with the bedpost, and she felt the gash on her head reopen.
"You aren't his friend," Alois growled. "I'm not going to let him have anything, and that includes friends. I'm going to take it all away from him to account for what he's done." He stalked toward her again, predatory in his stance. Anya struggled to shrink away from him, but the ropes bound her firmly. She was completely helpless.
"I can barely see it," Alois purred. "I can see why he would want you. I've met that crybaby Elizabeth, and she's nothing special." As he spoke, he came closer and closer, eventually crawling onto the bed with her, close enough to touch. He moved dangerously close, going so far as to loom over her, one knee splayed on either side of her huddled form.
"I can tell you're lying," he whispered huskily. "He isn't your friend. You're just his little toy, aren't you? He doesn't love you, little girl. He's using you, just as I could easily do. Right now." He leaned forward and kissed her forcefully on the mouth, pinning Anya's back against the post. She gasped, but that only encouraged the insane lad. When she managed to jerk her lips away, gulping for air, his mouth never left her skin, but trailed across her swelling cheek.
Alois lifted a hand to the back of Anya's head, fingering her bleeding wound as he pulled himself closer. With his other, he began trying to discard Anya's top layer of clothing. Unable to do so because of Anya's bound arms, he simply tore the undershirt off with a growl.
A violent shudder wracked Anya's entire body at the sound; it was feral and untamed. Alois's hands traced the contours of her sides as he kissed the side of Anya's face all the way to her ear, which he nibbled at and then licked.
The shivering maid did the only thing that seemed natural. She head-butted Trancy as hard as she could. Swinging her head to the side, she made direct contact between her temple and his nose.
"YOOW!" Alois fell off the bed, crashing to the floor. Claude stepped from the shadows to help him up. All sympathy Anya had felt for the butler evaporated; she had completely forgotten that Claude was there, watching his master do such things to her.
"Stupid little…" Alois groaned. He was nursing an extremely bloody broken nose. "Claude," he snapped. "This one has become an annoyance. Kill her quickly so I can get back in that silly dress." The butler bowed, and disappeared before returning with a familiar green ball gown and a red wig.
"Lady Soly?" Anya gasped, catching her breath. Of course! Those eyes… that's where I recognized them from. This has been Alois's doing all along! Every murder, all of the parties, everything that had occurred over the course of the evening had been orchestrated by Earl Trancy.
"Very nice, isn't it? I absolutely hate lying," Alois fibbed. "So I tried to keep as much truth in my aliases as possible. Claude taught me about these wonderful things called anagrams. They're like little word games; you just scramble up the letters of a word to make other words. 'Alois Trancy' scrambled up makes 'Catrina Soly', and also 'Colin Arysta'. It's actually very entertaining. I would recommend trying it out, but you'll be dead in a few seconds. Hurry up, Claude!"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Claude was suddenly standing behind Anya. His hands hovered over her collarbone, as if wondering which would be the best way to end her life. Just as his hands settled on her shoulders, the door at the end of the room slammed open.
"S-Sebastian," Anya choked out her relief at seeing the butler. His hair and clothes were a mess, but he looked otherwise unhurt. She watched as his eyes took in everything before him in less than a second before coming to rest on Claude's gloved hands, which had closed loosely around Anya's neck.
"Your appearance is unforgivable," Claude said with disdain. "A real butler should always be presentable."
"And who, may I ask, made it impossible for me to look my best this evening?" Sebastian's voice dripped with frozen hatred. "That's right; it was you and your ilk, Claude Faustus."
"Don't blame me for your remissions," warned Claude. "Or this girl's blood will be on your hands, Michaelis." He tightened his grip, and Anya let out a yelp of discomfort. Sebastian's eyes instantly locked on hers, searching for any information. Anya could only stare at him hopelessly.
"Just do it, Claude," Alois cried. "I order you!"
Somewhere in the distance, Anya could hear church bells chiming the hour. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pressure of Claude's hands, and began counting the chimes.
Bong. One. Anya stopped struggling.
Bong. Three. There was nothing she could do.
Bong. Five. She hoped Finny and the others wouldn't be too sad.
Bong. Seven. I hope I see mother and father in heaven.
Bong. Nine. Anya opened her eyes and put all of her will into a silent message for Sebastian, who still hadn't moved. I don't blame you. You're only human; you can't save everyone.
Bong. Ele-
Two dark shapes crashed through the window. One, a red colored monster, dove straight for Sebastian with a cry of, "SEBBY!". The other, a man who Anya recognized as William from the ball, leaped through the falling glass and drove a spear right into her chest. The shaft cut cleanly through her final flimsy undershirt, and Anya saw a bright light pass in front of her eyes.
"Your Record, if you please," William intoned. As her vision went dark, Anya heard the final chime sound in the distance.
Bong. Twelve. I'm dead.
Ohhh, a cliffhanger! This is all for now, so hopefully I won't be punished too badly. On top of it all, our Anime Club got shut down... maybe I can stay anyway and use the library's computers to write?
Moony: It's your own fault for failing math.
I just don't get it! It isn't my fault that I got put in the advanced class after four months of reiterating the fact that I wouldn't do well. But do I have a say? NO! Thanks a lot, mother!
Moony: Don't worry, people. This has been happening a lot recently. Have a good holiday season and R&R.
Signed, Moony/Maya Koppori