A/n- This chapter will focus partially on Ivy, and partially on another OC who will have a MAJOR affect on the story. It will also explain some of the (fandmade) backstory, giving insights into characters.
Note- I read 'Claudia' as 'Cloudia', and kept the spelling as Cloudia. I didn't have enough time to go through the chapters to fix it, so it's remaining the same. Woo!
"Ciel, where is Ivy?" Prince Soma asks, looking at Ciel. "I have no idea, she usually is up by now..." Ciel wonders aloud, before he turns to Sebastian "Bring Ivy here."
"Yes, young master." Sebastian says, turning from the table to go bring a groggy-Ivy to the table. But, no such Ivy was in her room, or in the kitchen either. In fact, Sebastian could not find Ivy in any of her regular spots.
I was sitting in my newest-hideout, and it was great. I woke up at 1 AM, and had nothing else to do, so I wandered the mansion, and found a staircase leading up to one of the flat parts of the roof. So, naturally, I brought a bunch of chairs up the stairs, with cushions, a folding table, a chest (full of quilts) a beach chair, and a large umbrella. I was currently reading 'Looking Backward', and oh boy, was it ridiculous. This guy wakes up in the year 2000, which is the opposite of my situation, and nothing is accurate. I was also wearing a tie-tye purple shirt that was an XLL and was a dress on me, with spanx underneath.
But, of course, how was Victorian Era people supposed to know about the future? Through me?
Today was the 19th, and it was Michael's birthday. Well, it will be, but in the future. Michael...Michael had always been there for me at my school, though he was a year older, and we became a couple a couple years ago when I was 13 and he 14.
Like I said, I skipped a grade, and I was therefore mature for my age. We met through school, and immediately hit it off.
My heart still aches at the thought of him, but it's no use crying over spilled milk.
He's the reason why I'm still here today, though.
He saved my life, and when I tried to save his, it didn't work anymore. But, he still effects me every day, his words of wisdom leaving impact in my life.
Sighing, I turn my thoughts from Michael, as I turn the page in the book.
"Ivy~!" Sebastian's faint voice rings out over the grounds, and I peak over my book at the yard, seeing a wandering Sebastian standing there.
"Ivy~! Where are you?" He calls out, and I roll my eyes. Isn't he some all-powerful demon or something? Why can't he just teleport or something?
"I'm reading bird-brain!" I shout out, and his head snaps up to the roof, looking up at me in confusion.
Sebastian wondered how the hell she got up there, but sighed. "I'm coming up now." He shouts out, squatting slightly, before he jumps high into the air, landing in front of Ivy.
"Hello Sebas-chan, how are you?" I say, looking at how his hair falls perfectly into place, though he jumped up hundreds of feet.
Damn that demon-man!
Hey, that rhymed!
"Just dandy, Ivy. May I ask how you got up here?" He says politely, and I roll my eyes, jacking my thumb to the staircase where I came from.
"I couldn't sleep and wandered, found a staircase, than ended up here. You can drop the formalities, I know you want something." I say, putting a bookmark in my book, as Sebastian's trademark smirk falls off his face.
"The young master wants you, and ordered me to escort you to him." Sebastian says, and I huff. Ciel's been super clingy and possessive in the past week, and I don't like it one bit. That's why I built a me-space on the roof: to escape from Ciel!
"Tell him I went back to Sweden..." I grumble, and Sebastian arches a brow. "Do you not like the young master suddenly?"
"It's not that, but he's been super clingy and possessive suddenly! And he confessed to me, and I just...urgh!" I exclaim, leaning back onto my lawn chair. "Human emotion is odd, with emotions such as love," Sebastian says, and I look at him from the corner of my eye.
"Can you not feel love, as a demon?" I ask, and he smirks. "I can feel all emotions, except love. The closest thing to your human emotion of 'love' is lust." he says giving me a pointed smirk.
"Interesting. Lust is a form of twisted love, but whatever you say Sebastian." I say, and he takes a step closer to my lawn chair.
"You know what I really lust for?" He asks, voice turning husky.
"What, Ciel's soul? "
"I just want that, no, I lust for something else..." he says, standing over my lawn chair now, putting his gloved hand on my thigh, sending shivers down my spine.
Why didn't I wear actual pants today?! Curse you for bad outfit choices, Author!
"Sebastian, what are you-" I say, as he leans forward, taking his free hand, placing his fingers to my lips.
"What if I said...that I lusted after you?" he says, and my cheeks flush, and I stick my tongue out, licking his finger, and he promptly pulls it away.
"Do not mess with me!" I blush, standing from my lawn chair, and I stand up on the lawn chair, giving Sebastian a slap with my book. His face shows the shock that I hit him. "I know you are a demon, and a mischievous one at that, but that does not mean you play with emotions of a friend!"
"Who said I was playing with your emotions?" He says with a smirk, looking down at me with a smirk. "What if I was being true?"
I scoff, this ass likes playing with my emotions! "You've never been true, Sebastian. Besides, you just said you cannot feel love."
He leans his face close to mine. "Prove it." He says, a smile on face and I look at him seriously.
"Your smiles, they're two dimensional. The way you smile is so empty, it's so void of emotion and useless. If a wind was suddenly to blow, the smile would blow off your face like a flimsy piece of paper." I say, and the smile falls off his face, leaving a neutral expression.
"Didn't you promise to make me do human things with enjoyment, Ivy?" He asks, "Human things are emotions, correct?"
"Human things are emotions and activities other than soul sucking, so yes." I say, and he smirks, lifting his finger, and tilting my chin to look up directly at his face.
"What better way of me learning your human enjoyment than you showing me?" He asks, leaning forward, and leaving a kiss on the corner of my lips with an icy feel. It was just a peck, but it felt like a lifetime of promises that Sebastian intended to keep. He pulled back, and my face tinted pink.
"Teach me, Ivy, teach me, a demon who only knows how to 'soul suck' this human enjoyment." he says, and I look up at him directly, focusing a challenging-look on my face.
"Sebastian, are you challenging me to something? You know I don't break promises." I say, and he lightly laughs, which seems more like a scoff.
"It's no challenge, I'm just begging you to do this. Show me something worthy of enjoyment." he huskily demands, and I arch a brow.
"You seem to take pleasure in irking me, don't you?" I ask, and he smiles that fake smile I've grown to despise.
"On the contrary, I take pleasure in seeing your unique reactions." He says, leaning forward, brushing his icy lips by my ear. "And, I know that Ciel has confessed his emotions to you, and though he's my young master, I'm not willing to let go of such an interesting lady."
"Really now," I say, turning from him, stepping off the lawn chair, "why say this?"
"Maybe I should court you," he starts, waving his free hand around easy-breezy style, "after all, maybe I have feelings."
I snort, "'Feelings' my ass, don't even bother."
I look up to see his devilish pink eyes, and I look away from his eyes, keeping my gaze on his forehead. "You're a measly human, yet you deny me?"
"I am no measly human, for I am Ivy Adams. And, I've never planned on being a measly human." I say proudly, and in a split second, I'm being dangled over the Phantomhive's Manor roof, above the grounds. I look down, and see how high up, and I see I'm being held outward in Sebastian's hands.
"Any human is measly compared to me. I can easily snap your neck right now, and you'd be a dead Ivy Adams. Now, instead of the young brat, why don't you chose me? If you chose me, I'll make you into a creature like me, and we'll be together until the end of time. You will no longer be just Ivy Adams, a human who won't last a century, but an undying Ivy Adams, who witnesses history." he says, and I laugh slightly.
"Wow, you're throwing out your demon card? I must have really caught your interest, than. Once you figure me out, or even a slight fraction of me, you'll lose interest and trash me." I say with a laugh, looking at his neutral face.
"I would not do that, have trust."
"Trust? For a demon who was summoned by a bunch of cultists, than turned to the sacrifice, and how they trusted that won't happen? Ha!" I say, wiping a non-existent tear from my face. "I know basic demonology, and you've been known to deceive many."
"I would never," he says, but I know it's a double edged sword, a lie.
"Whatever, but a no is a no, Sebastian. I know you just want to see where my heart lies,and my heart only lies with myself." I say seriously, and something flickers in his eyes for a moment, before its gone.
"I can give you anything you wish, vast riches, beauty beyond measures. I can make all the men lust for your touch, I can make you a princess to a nation, as such the powers of a demon." Sebastian breathes out, and I arch a brow.
"Sebastian, I do not care for those things. The only thing I want is to keep going as I am, strong, brave, and confident. Beauty has no meaning to me-"
"Clearly..." Sebastian guffaws, and I roll my eyes.
"Yes, clearly. Vanity is worthless and stupid. As I was saying before a Vincent Phantomhive-look-a-like with no originality whatsoever interrupted me, with strength, courage and confidence, I can soar to great heights and achieve knowledge from my experiences."
"As a demon, you'd have an unlimited amount of time, you could see history go by, you could see the rise of nations and the crumbling of them, too. You can gain infinite knowledge...You'd never have to die," he says, and I laugh hard at that statement, and Sebastian looks at me with bewildered eyes.
The only sound you could hear was my laughter, and a small whoosh of the wind, rustling my stray, but the wind dared not to touch the dark being.
"I...have never feared dying, Sebastian." I say, my laughs dying down. "In fact, I've been closer to it than most should have ever been with it by others hands and mine...so I'll let you in on a little secret." I smirk slightly.
"I don't care whether I'm dead or alive, anymore. The killer has to be dead already to kill, after all." I whisper, as his eyes widen, grip loosening slightly in surprise at my words, and all I have to do is twist slightly, and I'm free of his grip, and free falling.
I see his face turn to one of shock, as he looks over the edge at me falling, at my curly hair being undone of the loose ribbons, letting my curls fall about my face. I smile, before I realize.
I'm going to die, all because I wanted a dramatic exit!
Wait...I wouldn't die with the reaper's curse...but that means I'd be paralyzed for the rest of eternity!
I close my eyes, waiting to hit the concrete, but I land in someone's arms, and I open my eyes to see a serious looking Sebastian.
"Why, you could have died if I did not catch you!" He says in mock-surprise, and I roll my eyes, and Sebastian tilts my head to face him.
"How about a reward for my help?" he asks with a smirk, quickly planting his lips on mine, feeling like an icy eyes widen, as I push him off me.
I haven't...
"How dare you!" I exclaim, wiping my lips with the back of my hand, as I get out of his arms, an agitated look on face. "You're words are vile, sarcastic, sharp and twisted. I feel as if I'm in a pool of glass shards and boogers when you speak. You're just a sad-excuse of a fuck boy, you Vogue trash!"
Sebastian chuckles, not taking me serious. He probably thought of me as a child, and my eyebrow twitches, and I puff out my cheeks.
"I hope Edward Scissorhands gives you a handjob!" I say, stomping on his foot with all my might, and I turn around, walking back to the mansion, leaving a stunned Sebastian in my wake.
I grumble, what an asshole demon, playing with my emotions like that! Spewing lies like a volcano...
Urgh! I really want to go to Conall's cow casa, but I want to meet Arthur Conan Doyle...
Ack!
I walk inside to my room, closing the door, and entering my closet, slamming the door close behind me, and I sit on the floor, nose twitching. I need a time-out, so I don't get angry. I hated getting angry, it's not a positive emotion.
Closing my eyes, I inhale through my nose. 40.
Exhaling, I push every little bit of oxygen out. 39.
Inhaling with with my mouth open, I count down until I reach 0, and I stand up, doing slow stretches, rolling out my joints. I hear some banging from the downstairs area, and I realize that this is the start of the arc, as Double Charles is here.
Great.
Since I'm in the closet, I might as well get dressed... I put on a light grey dress with a light pink bow on the front and my black combat boots, but I don't change my spanx underneath, a purse of money with me in the pink. I finish off the look by braiding my hair back in a loose braid.
I'm going out into town, I'll need some relaxation time before the murder arc. Grabbing my parasol, I change the cover to a matching pink, and I walk outside to see Double Charles stepping into a carriage.
"Phipps and Grey!" I shout out, waving my hand, and they turn towards me. "Oh, if it isn't the little lady who beat Phipps in a duel! How are you?" Grey asks, as Phipps' eyebrow twitches, as I make my way towards them.
"I know I'm little, but you don't need to rub it in," I say with a laugh and a smile, forgetting about what happened with Sebastian, "I am doing just dandy. How are you boys?"
"Swell," Phipps grumbles, avoiding eye contact as a blush tints his cheeks, as Grey smiles. "Wonderfully! You look like you're going somewhere, may I ask where you are off to?"
"I was actually planning to go to London for the day, I have nothing to do there, but just wanted to wander to pass the time," I say, and Grey's eyes widen, and he opens his mouth in mock-shock. "London? Why, we're going there too, it must be fate!" He says, opening the carriage door, offering me a hand to get in. "We'll let you ride with us for the day, and you can pass the time with us. How does that sound?" Grey asks, and I smile, taking his hand, hopping in the carriage.
"That sounds lovely, thank you." I say, sitting down in the carriage, as Phipps' mouth opens and closes like a fish-out-of-water.
"We have many duties today to perform as a butler, won't this be a proble-"
"Nonsense, Miss Ivy here is more than capable of helping us, she proved herself by beating you in a duel, after all." Grey says, getting in the carriage, as Phipps' face flushes.
"Stop bringing that up!" Phipps responds, as he gets in the carriage, closing the door, and the carriage starts moving. I lightly giggle, "You men are so silly. Please, call me Ivy, I sound so old and formal as a 'Miss Ivy.'"
"You're only 13, after all, I can't believe Phipps was beaten by a little kid. Don't worry, Ivy, you'll stop growing at 16, so you have plenty of time." Grey says, and I sweat drop.
"I'm 15...going on 16 in a little over a month..." I say, and Phipps and Grey blush.
"We're both 17!" They exclaim, and I lightly laugh.
We make small talk, until the carriage pulls to a stop, and the footmen opens the door, and I hop out, looking at the massive castle in front of me.
"Woah!" I say, "I've never seen England's Buckingham Palace before, this is quite massive."
"Don't you Americans have a castle? The White Castle, or something like that?" Phipps asks, and I laugh.
"Nah, White Castle is a brand of burgers. It's called the White House, and that's where the President, who's the executive branch, works." I explain, as they get out of the carriage, and lead me inside.
"So, isn't he your ruler? A harsh dictator?" Grey asks, and I shrug. "Some presidents are considered dictators by the people, but there's typically 2 main parties of government: democratic and republican. For example, if there's a democrat president, a republican might say that the President is a 'dictator' because they don't agree with their policies. Most of the presidents are pretty great, and have done a lot to help the country. Even if some of the things are not so good, the goods typically outweigh the bads."
"Interesting, you seem to know a lot about this, for a woma-" Grey starts, but I run in front of him, smashing my finger to his lips.
"ShhhhhhhhhHHhHhH-" I say, swishing his lips around with my finger.
"What are you doing, Ivy?" Phipps asks, confused. "Preventing a sexist comment from being made, complete!" I say, moving my hand from his lips, doing a fist pump, and I stumble on my dress bottom.
"Next-" Phipps starts, but I fall backward onto my rump, a large rip heard, and a patch of fabric torn off my dress.
"Oh pooey! My dress tore...oh well, I'll just get this cleaned up later," I say, as I stand up, dusting myself off. In a flash, Phipps was by the ends of my dress, before he was back to where he was standing, a needle suddenly in hand.
"Wha-?" I ask, looking at the hem of my dress in surprise. Where I had torn the fabric was a little white rose with green ivy extending all around the circle of my dress.
"Oh wow, Phipps, this is lovely! Thank you!" I say, quickly hugging him, and he stiffens. "N-no worries, Ivy." He says, and I pull from the hug, and they continue leading me towards the castle.
We go inside, and are greeted by elegance all around us. My eyes sparkle as I look at the antiques, the glimmer of the window panes, and the intricate black lace veil that rested on Queen Victoria's head...
Wait, Queen Victoria?!
"Hello, Phipps, Grey, how are you today?" She asks, flipping her shades to the top of her head, as the butlers bow to Queen Victoria. "Well, Your Majesty."
I curtsy, bowing my head along with it. "Hello again, Queen Victoria."
"Stop dat, I told you, it's Gran Victoria." She says, and I pull out of the curtsy, smiling brightly at her, as the butlers behind me sweat drop. "You're right...good to see you again!" I exclaim, walking towards her and enveloping the old woman into a hug.
"Thank you for having me involved in your Christmas Scavenger Hunt, I had a lovely time with m'boy," she says, pulling from the hug, holding my hands tight in hers, and I smile. "It was no problem, Ciel told me how he had a great time with you."
Her eyes sparkle in happiness, "Really? Oh, that's wonderful! Now, based off your most recent letter, you were wondering if I was...by any possibility, a werewolf?"
"Yes, I was wondering, as in America it is a silly rumor that you were a werewolf, and thought I'm 99% sure you aren't, I'm just double checking." I say, and she laughs, causing the butlers behind us to sweat drop even larger. "That is quite funny! I am not a werewolf, you Americans are quite comedic."
So...Doctor Who doesn't exist?
Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Queen Victoria turns back to the butlers, "Please, prepare us some tea, we will be in the parlor 'chatting,' as Americans say."
They both nod, quickly turning and running for the hills, as Queen Victoria leads me to the parlor room, closing the door behind her, and she sits down, and I follow suit. The parlor room is quite lovely, with large windows overlooking the yard, letting in natural light.
"So, I've heard that Sebastian and Ciel are vying for your hand," she says the moment I sit down, and I nearly choke on my spit.
"What now?" I ask, and she smiles, revealing a pearly set of teeth for her age. Are they real? Or fake...?
"Though I'm Queen of England, I'm not the Queen of Gossip, but Madame Red certainly holds that title, and she apparently found out that Ciel and Sebastian are both vying for your hand in courtship." She says, and my eyes widen.
How did Madame Red even find out?! This world is seriously insane!
"Don't bother denying it girl, I can see it in your eyes. Now, Lau has started a bet on who is going to get your hand, and so far it's pretty evenly split. And, before I bet..."
THERE'S A BET?!
"You want me to basically tell you who I fancy, right..." I say as I sweat drop, and the Queen raises both her hands, chuckling lightly. "Guilty~! But, seriously, spill. I want to win." She says seriously, and I sigh.
"My heart lies with myself, I'm not going to marry anytime soon." I say, and she smiles happily, clapping her hands like a demented seal.
"Oh! I'm so glad you say this, for that's what I betted on!" She says, and I raise a brow. "Eh?"
"I think people really marry far too much, don't you do, too? And since you're an American, you have fresh, new ideas, and you don't necessarily fit the stereotypical proper lady in England. But, that's what makes you Ivy, don't you agree? Practically half of England knows who you are, just by the mention of your name: Ivy. They know it's the purple-haired American girl, and once you marry, you become the purple-haired American woman who married a Brit." She says, and I smile.
"You're right, I'm young and have time..." I trail off in thought, and Victoria nods. "It's all about falling in love with yourself and sharing that love with someone who appreciates you, like me and...Albert." Tears well up in Victoria's eyes, as her lips quiver.
Oh no, here comes the waterworks... "You should know," Victoria says, calming herself, as she dabs her eyes with a black handkerchief with Prince Albert's initials sewn on it. "I was truly in love with my late husband. and we had a deep love for each other. A deep understanding of our love, too. People should fall in love for their marriage, and appreciate each other, or else their marriage is invalid, and falls apart."
The door opens, and Double Charles bring in the tea, before leaving. I take a sip of it out of politeness, and though it tasted well-made, I hated tea. But, I'll drink it so to not be rude. "I agree, Gran Victoria." I say quietly, as she sips her tea, grey eyes tracing over my face, observing my features.
"You look awfully similar to a person from my youth, who I vaguely remember. Her name is Conall Taylor..." Victoria notes, eyes turning glasst, as she remembers the past, and she sets her tea cup down. Conall Taylor...that was mentioned in Grell's letter.
"My Mother, who is also named Victoria, was in charge of managing the affairs of the underground. She was the one who held the leashes of the watch dogs. The watch dogs of the royal family has always been the Phantomhives. Back than, there was a woman who was declared the watch dog, Countess Phantomhive. Her name was Cloudia..." Queen Victoria starts, and I lean forward in interest. History not revealed in the manga, this was interesting!
"In fact, I believe Conall's diary is stored somewhere in the Phantomhive Manor...in fact..." she says, standing from her position, walking to a corner of the parlor, and bending down, she lifts up a plank of wood, pulling out a piece of paper.
"I remember coming in on Conall as she left this here, sometime in 1850, placing this here. Quickly, leave now, and find out where your heart lays, for I believe this may help." She says, placing the paper in my hand, and I look up at her with a smile.
"Thank you!" I say, giving her a quick hug, which she returns, than she pulls away. "I'll ring a carriage for you, now go!" She says, and with a quick nod, I run from the parlor room to the front of the palace to see a carriage waiting for me. Damn, that old woman is quick! Hopping inside, the carriage sets off for Phantomhive Manor, and I look at the note.
Dear receiver of this note, I am Conall Taylor, and you are probably one of my many grandchildren, great grandchildren, or even further. If you are reading this, you are also somehow involved in the underworld as I once was, and you probably wish to know more...
My ancestor was involved in the underworld?! Cool!
...so basing this off that fact, I have stored my diary in the bottom of the Phantomhive Manor under a black stone in the storage area. It should be easy to find. From there, you need to prove yourself of my descent, and than you'll learn more.
Best of luck, Conall. 10/12/1851
The carriage soon pulls to a stop outside the Phantomhive manor, and Sebastian opens the door, and I look at him with a shocked expression.
"Ivy, we need to talk." he says, as I hop out of the carriage, storming from him. "Sebastian, I'm kind of busy right now, talk to me in an hour." I say, waving him off, and he sighs. "If you wish..."
He walks away, and I practically burst into a sprint, picking up my skirts as I make my way downstairs to the storage area, and I burst through the door, turning on a rickety lightbulb that flickers to life.
It's a small area, with a circular formed room. There's a simple bookshelf on there, with a few boxes, but that's it. The floor is wood.
Wait...bookshelf. Think Ivy, Conall is supposedly a clever woman if involved in the underworld, and would want her secrets protected...
Walking to the bookshelf, I scan for a book that seems out of place. All of the books on the shelf vary in height and width and genre, so where is the mistake? Where is the secret book that pulls outward?
Looking at the age of books, I see one book that seems more worn on the edge, almost as if grabbed constantly...
Bingo! Grabbing that book, I tug downward, as the shelf moves with part of the floor I'm standing on, and spins into a new room.
It's dark, and I squint to see anything, and I step forward. Immediately, the room flickers to life, revealing a large room, about the size of the Queen's parlor, sit with candles on the walls that came to life by themself. Bathed in a golden light, it has a few plush chairs, a large bookshelf, a large filing cabinet, and what seems to be an experiment table.
Wait-Conall was a witch, she must have planned it like this! Scanning the room, I look at the floor that's paved with grey stones, and my eyes fall on the black one. Walking over to the stone, I place my hands on the corners of the stone, bracing myself to pull up a heavy weight.
One...two...three! Tugging upwards, I stumble backwards with the actual fake, hollow black stone, which revealed a thick diary.
Huh.
Tossing aside the stone, I bend to where the diary was, and put my thumb on the cover, flipping through the pages. Suddenly, my thumb pricks some part of the book, which makes it bleed onto the book.
"Ouchies..." I say, putting my thumb in my mouth, tasting a faint metallic blood. I don't like bleeding...
Suddenly, the book is basked in a golden light, and starts shaking. Dropping the book, it flips open to the first page, and I peer over the book, as the golden light shoots right at my face, and I black out.
-London, England, year 1849, Conall Price's POV-
"That was a wonderful service today, Pastor Benjamin." I say with a smile, nodding at the young, gorgeous Pastor. He was 23, and I 20 (born in 1830), and he was married to the church. With midnight blue hair and dark brown eyes that remind me of melted chocolate, he certainly was a wonderous sight. He was also tall in height, towering at 5'11" over my short height of 5'2". Donned in a long, black robe with the white-collar thing that all Pastors have, it was odd he didn't wear a rosary, but he brushed it off as "my rosary is used for prayer." It was odd, for a couple months ago he wore it daily.
"Why, thank you, Miss Price." He says, giving me a nice, close eyed smile, and I giggle, waving my hand away. "Oh, I've told you to call me Conall so many times!"
Two men in trenchcoats walk up to Pastor Benjamin, both with large, heavy brown mustaches, a brown hair slicked back, with a black bowler cap on each of their heads. They looked like twins, the only difference in them was their eye colors, grey and green.
"Pastor Benjamin, may we have a word?" They say simultaneously, with calm voices, and Pastor Benjamin's eyes flicker to me, and I briefly nod. "Of course, I will see you next Sunday." I say with a short nod, before he nods in reply, and I leave.
My footsteps clack on the stones, as I make my way on the sidewalk of the streets, as I make my way to the person's home I'm currently residing in. I had decided months previously to flee from a loveless marriage promised to my rich second cousin, Oswald Lemprond, who is currently in America, somewhere called Maine. I had escaped on a ship, and had landed in London, homeless. But, I was offered work at a small bakery, and had been residing above there with the owner in a small, 2 room apartment. The owner, named Melanie Taylor, aka Miss Taylor, is a middle-aged immigrant from Ireland, and took pity upon me.
Thank god for pitying people, for bestowing mercy upon the pitiable. Glancing to my side, I catch my reflection in the glass window. My short, chestnut brown hair was pulled into a tight bun, with a straw bonnet tightly tucked over it. My hair was horribly frizzy, and unevenly lopped off. I was wearing a plain grey dress with slightly poofed sleeves that were all the rage, and leather shoes that made my toes curl. The dress was so ugly in my opinion with its poofed sleeves, but it was the only Sunday-best I had.
My sharp grey eyes met their match in the window, as I scour over my facial features. I was plain as the day, no acknowledgable features that made me stand out, I was definitely a 'plain Jane.' Sighing, I turn from the window, and cross the street to the corner where the bakery lie. My dreadfully boring grey eyes were framed by short, stubby lashes, and my teeth were slightly crooked. My eyebrows were unkempt and bushy, and I had a lack of noticeable assets on my chest and behind.
"I'm back," I call out to the bakery, as a little bell dings, letting everyone inside know I was back. "Welcome back, Conall." Miss Taylor's son called out, sending me a flirtatious wink, and I smile slightly. Miss Taylor's son was the other employee here, and handled baking the goods, while I did the selling, and he was kind-hearted. He lifted all the heavy stuff for me, too, which was very helpful, as I had absolutely no upper-arm strength. He had waved red hair and pale, blue eyes, with a crooked smile and freckles like the stars. He was around 5'8", with a muscular build and long legs. He had tried romantically pursuing me...but I told him how I felt awkward that I was living off his mother, and it may seem like I rely on him too much. He promised me that once he gets his own job, he'll pursue me once more, and 'will make sure I have his attention'.
"Mm, mornin' Malachi." I say, as he passes me a hot chocolate that he makes me every morning, and I take a sip, the sweetness hitting me like a river. Malachi is the brew master, making the best drinks ever. Especially alcoholic drinks...I'm not a light weight anymore, thanks to Malachi's intense training in drinking games. Malachi was always a bit...forceful on his view, and by forceful I meant controlling. He always liked me doing things he wanted me to do, and was very intense at times. Hell, one time he wouldn't let me leave the bakery until I gave him a hug!
"What was the sermon today?" He asks, as I take a step to the backroom, changing into my work clothes. "It was about how God will save us and always protect us from evil." I take off my bonnet, putting it on a shelf, and take off my dress to show a loosely-tied corset.
Malachi snorts in disbelief, "God can't protect us from all evil, like the Black Plague. Why didn't He protect us back than?" he replies, voice slightly muffed, as I put on a colbalt-blue dress, with long sleeves that I roll up, and I place a yellowing apron over it, covered in flour stains.
"I have no idea why He did not protect us then, but He has a plan, and I have trust in that." I reply, taking off my shoes, placing on...male's loafers. No one sees my feet from under the long skirt, so it's fine.
Wearing the shoes is worth the risk, they sooth my feet from being pinched by tight shoes. Oh, the freedoms males have!
I open the door of the changing room, taking a sip of my hot chocolate, as I see him taking goodies out of the oven, placing them on trays. I change the sign on the door, turning it to the 'open' side, as I make my way behind the counter "Well, I'll only believe in your God when he comes down here and buys a pastry!" He says with a laugh, as I roll my eyes, an easy smile on face.
The door opens, and I turn to see Malachi's jaw open in disbelief. "Wha?"
"No, it's just a customer," I say with a laugh, turning to the person who entered. "How may I help you today, Miss?" I ask, looking at the fancily dressed lady who entered. She had midnight blue hair pulled into two braided buns on the lower halves of the back of her head, with twinkling blue eyes framed by large black lashes, much unlike my short lashes. Her lips were tinted a pink, and she was a few inches taller than me, with noticeable assets. Donned in a baby pink silk dress that practically cried out wealthy, she had fitted shoes and a tiny waist.
"Hello, can I have 2 dark chocolate pastries?" She says, cutting to the chase, and I nod, taking a pair of tongs, taking the pastries, placing them in a box. "That'll be 21 pence." I say, and she rummages through her purse, pulling out a 10 pound note, passing it to me as my jaw slightly drops.
"Keep the change," she says, and I smile up at her. "Thank you, Miss." I say, passing her the box of tarts, as she stiffly nods, turning to the door, and walking out. (A/N-this is about the same as 235 dollars in today's date)
I placed the ten pound note inside the cash box, taking out a 5 pound note, a smile on face. Miss Taylor promised me that if I get over the paid amount that was paid, I get half of the amount. It was rare when this happened, which made this a very happy day for me! Placing the 5 pound note in my apron pocket, a smile was on my face for the rest of the day.
Soon, the closing time of 8:00 (since it was Sunday) arrived quickly, and I knew I should go thank God for my great fortune. Donning my bonnet, I place the 5 pound note in my personal safe, and I put on the wretched shoes, and I exit the shop after bidding Malachi a farewell, and I walk to the church a mile's walk away.
Arriving at the church, I take the bonnet in hand, and step inside, a wretched smell creeping up my nose. Maybe the incense is...no, that is not incense.
The church was fairly small, with only 10 rows of pews that face the alter, a Jesus crucifix looking at his children hanging above the alter. I go to the first row, where the smell is strongest, and I note that the smell isn't coming from the row...but the alter. Turning to the alter, I ascend the staircases, looking at the alter's table, a look of shock on face as I see a wine red, thick liquid coming from under the alter.
Unable to stop myself, I lift the once-white cloth that is now stained red, looking under the alter, to see an elderly man under the alter, with his throat ripped out, and organs spilling out of him like a pumpkin's guts. I step back, shock on face as I cover my mouth.
He was...murdered in a holy place?!
I have seen bodies before, which is why I have not gotten rid of my lunch through my mouth, but never so gruesomely killed like this!
"Someone's reached the body before me, how unfortunate." A familiar female voice says, and I look up to see the woman from earlier.
"Y-you, did you kill this man?!" I question, and her eyebrow twitches. "Of course not. Blood stains are horrible to get rid of," she says, calmly walking up to the alter, lifting the sheet and looking at the body, a neutral expression on face, and she gave a short, disapproving tsk.
"This is the 5th one this month..." she mutters, "5th murder? How did the public not know of this?" I say, and she looks at me with hard eyes.
"Certainly, you've heard of the underworld of England." She says, "It is believed that this was done by a member of the East End who may turn to Nobles, and I was ordered to put a stop to this."
"So you've done this before? You've sniffed at the bodies of the dead for the underworld?" I question, and she raises a brow. "You're taking this very calmly, for someone who is standing at the feet of a body that looks like a pumpkin with its guts spewed out. How are you like this?"
"I have faith in my God that everything happens for a reason. If this man had died, it means that once we find the killer, goodness will prevail."
She chuckles at my words, "That's oddly cheerful, but whatever comforts you. Presumably, you attend this church, correct?"
I nod, "Every Sunday, this is very well covered up if church goes about as it has always been."
She raises a blue brow, "You are an American, based off your accent. How long have you been attending this church for?"
"Since I arrived in London back in September...since it's February, 5 months now. Everything is as it has always been." I say, looking at the crucifix of Jesus on the wall.
"America has only been a free country for under 80 years, it's quite odd to see an American coming here. Why so?"
"Escaping a loveless marriage that would leave behind a useless life." I step off the altar, the woman following behind.
"You are a witness now, you cannot just leave!" She exclaims after me. "Watch me leave, for I have no cares. I saw a body, and have no wishes to be involved any further." I say, and she grabs my wrist, causing me to spin around to face her, than she lets go.
"The only way you can have good happen in this world is if you do something about it. The world will only fall deeper into darkness if people like us with unusual knowledge don't put a stop to the things that go bump in the night. Now, you can either leave this without me, go back to your little bakery and go about as you have always, or you can come with me, find the murderer, and be part of the good will that your God does not do unto us." She says, looking into my eyes with confident eyes, "You Americans know how to cause a greater good from the chaos best, don't you?"
"I came here for a simpler life-"
"If you wanted a simpler life you would've stayed in America! A simple life is a useless one, but if you help me it will be more useful. Now, will you help me?"
I sigh, as she puts her hands on her hips expectantly. "Fine."
She claps once, and makes her way to the door, long legs carrying her quickly. "We have an hour to get your stuff together, you are presumably living above the bakery, am I correct?"
She opens the door, stepping out, and I rush behind her to see a carriage awaiting her, with a fancily decorated crest on the carriage door, and 2 jet black horses leading the carriage and a footman waiting there with on the top of the footman's chair for the horses. "What do you mean?" I ask, and she looks back at me. "I take that as a yes, and you are to be staying with me for a while."
"But...I don't even know your name!" I say, as the footman steps down from his position, opening the door for blue-haired beauty, as she steps inside the carriage, looking at me from the window.
"If that's your only problem, I'm Countess Phantomhive, but I'll let you call me Cloudia." Cloudia says, offering me her hand in a shake, as I step inside the carriage.
"Conall, Conall..." I say, thinking of a new last name. Something to start me off in the new world, because I didn't change my last name after I arrived here from America. "Conall Taylor. Nice to be here with you."
She nods, "Likewise. Now, we are off to your bakery, where you'll take all your worldly possessions and come with me for a while."
We arrive at the bakery shortly after that, and I go inside, quietly taking my clothes, possessions, jewelry, books (I loved mystery best), money I had saved up, and I may have left my ugly, pinched shoes behind.
Oops.
Quickly grabbing a couple left over pastries, I scribble a note letting them know I'll be leaving for a while, I run out to the carriage, excited to start a new life.
2/14/1849
Dear Taylors, thank you for employing me for such a while, giving me shelter. You both hold a special place in my heart, and I'll never forget either of you. I will be away for a bit, but I shall never forget you and your kindness, especially Malachi, your drinks were delightful. I've fallen in love with them, they are like some magic elixir, almost, it gave me a strong sense of energy in me. It gives me life on dull mornings, and I love that. Best of wishes...-Conall
"Welcome to my manor," Cloudia says, as the carriage door is opened by the footman, and I'm left to stare up at the massive manor in front of me. "Woahhh..." I say, as the footman helps me out. "He will take care of your belongings, for now, you need rest, for we have a full day scheduled tomorrow." she says, walking up to the manor with long legs, and I shuffle behind her, when she opens the door to reveal a grand entry room.
"Wow..." I say, as we walk up the long, curved staircase up to the rooms, and she opens up what seems like a random room. "This is where you'll stay. We shall start the day at 7 AM, and be at London at 10 AM to start investigations. In between these times, a tailor will take your measurements, and we will get you proper footwear."
"You knew I would accept, it seems." I say, stepping inside the luxurious room, and she shrugs. "Well, it's hard to not accept. An interesting life is better than a dull one, is it not, Conall?"
I turn from her, looking about the room. "I suppose."
She smiles softly from behind me, "I have an extra nightgown in there for you tonight. Goodnight, oh, if you have any problems, ring for the butler. He'll take care of you." She says, before closing the door.
Looking towards the wardrobe, I open it, pulling out the nightgown made of a fine silk, and put it on, oh! this feeling was wonderous!
Looking towards the bed now, I jump towards it, falling asleep the moment I hit the bed.
"Those measurements were taken less than an hour ago!" I say, as I'm now donned in an elegant pink dress with long sleeves, long frills and white lace. My hair was taken from it's up tight bun, and was now hanging loosely around my chin in all poofiness.
"Yeah, but that's the Hopkins for you!" Cloudia says with a light laugh, playing with my frizzy hair. "These are so fluffy, I love them!"
"Trust me, it's not fun when I try to brush them." I respond with a light laugh, looking at Cloudia who was donned in a similar dress but it was blue with black lace, her hair hung at her shoulder blades as straight as a blade of grass.
"And where is your makeup? You had none in your belongings!" Cloudia chastises, "How do you get ready?"
"I bathe myself, and pull my hair into a bun." I respond, and Cloudia scoffs. "You're hair will break with the buns you put them in! Good grief!" she says, pushing me to a chair. "Sit, I am to do your hair." she says, and I obey, as she pulls it in a low bun.
"Well, don't you look lovely. Now, makeu-"
"No makeup," I say, standing from the chair. "I have no need to be dolled up, I'm quite fine like this."
"Fine, fine..." Cloudia says, holding her hands up defensively. "I'll just do it before any ball."
"Deal." I say, and she grins. "Great! Now, we're off to London. Do you know how to use a weapon?"
"Yes, a sword. Wait- how did we move into this subject?!" I ask, and she chuckles. "It's easy to get answers out of people by moving into the subject easily. Now, where did you learn?" She asks, putting on her shoes.
"I learned on the ship from America to London, the captain of the ship said I needed to learn protection...turned out he was some champion at fencing in America until he lost his left hand, though he's right handed. It just threw him off, apparently. So he taught me, and I guess I'm a fast learner, because soon enough I could beat him."
"How about shooting a gun?" She asks, and I smirk. "I grew up in America hunting in the forest for food at times to help my family, as it was me, my dad, and 4 younger sisters." I recall, thinking of my younger sisters.
"Did your mother pass?" She asks, and I nod. "She was killed in a carriage crash." I say, and a light frown comes to Cloudia's face. "I apologize if I brought up bad memo-"
"Don't worry, it happened when I was younger. What of your parents, are they here?" I ask, and she shakes her head. "My father pulled his title, and gave it to me, as I am the only heir, and he and my mother retired to the London townhouse. They were tiring of the underworld business." She says, and I lightly laugh at her words.
"So you do not jest when you speak of being in the underworld business. I'm not going to pull back what I said about how I'd help you, since I never break promises, but I guess I'm in your ring now, yes?" I ask, and she nods.
"Correct, you had your chance to leave last night, but you accepted." She says seriously, "Welcome to the Aristocrats of Evil, The Evil Nobleman, Villainous Noblemen, blah blah blah. It makes us sound much worse than we actually are."
"I'm no aristocrat though," I say, putting on the new shoes I was given, and she smiles. "I can have the Queen pronounce you an aristocrat, make you a Countess of some county of land that is unclaimed. How about a spot in Dunton?" She says, and I laugh.
"Imagine me, 'Conall:Countess of the Cows!'" I say with a laugh, and she giggles at my words. "That would be quite comedic, I agree." Cloudia says, as we both stand up, making our way to the carriage. "Oh, there's our butler. Hello, Tanaka!" she calls out, and a tall man by the carriage turns around, giving us a smile.
"That's Tanaka, he's the butler, and quite handsome! He's 24, only a few years older," Cloudia mutters to me, as Tanaka approaches us, giving Cloudia a bow. "Hello, Cloudia. How do you fare today?" he asks, pulling up to a standing-position.
Tanaka was on the paler side, with bright brown, sparkling eyes (A/N-this is so hard to describe Tanaka as a handsome man when he is old in the manganime ;_;), a nice jawline, white teeth, brown hair slicked back, and a tall stature.
"I fare well, and to you, Tanaka?" Cloudia asks, standing up stiffly, and he smiles slightly. "Well. This is Conall Taylor, a guest of mine. Treat her as you'd treat me." Cloudia says, and Tanaka bows shortly to me. "I am Tanaka, butler of this household. Nice to meet you," he says, and I curtsy slightly to him, as he bends forward, kissing the back of my hand.
How gentlemanly! So unlike what we do to greet the others in the 'slums' of London.
"Likewise." I greet, as he stands back up to his full height, giving a small smile. "Let us go, we have business to attend to." Cloudia says, as Tanaka leads us to the carriage, helping us inside before closing the door, and the carriage starts moving to our location of investigations.
"So, where are we off to first? The church? The homes of the victims?" I ask, as she smirks. "We are going to visit another member of the evil noblemen, are you prepared?" She asks, and I nod.
We arrive to a spot in London, a small staircase that leads down to a basemented area. We step downstairs, and crack open the door, to see an Italian-looking man, sitting in a bar in chairs made of barrels. Clasped in his hands is an elegant, stemmed wine glass, full of the darkest red wine I've ever seen.
"Hello again, Emerio," Cloudia greets, as the Italian man turns to us, a large smile on face. He has a tan complexion, with ruffled brown hair, a stern grey eye and a bright electric green eye, a little mole under his left eye, small lips hidden under a large, curled-at-ends mustache. A golden monocle hung over his green eye, casting a small glare.
"Ahh, it's my little Cloudine!" He greets with a thick Italian accent, running towards us, greeting Cloudia in a hug, barely swishing the wine in his glass. "Who is this lovely little thing you have brought with you?" He asks, turning towards me, eyes tracing over my features.
"This is my investigation partner, Conall Taylor." Cloudia says, as Emerio gives me a large hug, squishing the air out of me. "Nice to meet you!"
"Likewise," I say, and he backs up. "Emerio Martini runs one of the largest imported Italian wine industries in all of the UK. Side business is human organ trafficking." Cloudia says, and my jaw slightly drops.
This friendly man was involved in the underworld? And by selling wine and organs?!
"Yes yes, now I know I'm fab-u-lous~, and the organs is more like donations from the dead people. And by donations, funeral parlors give them to me. And by give I mean I have my men steal the organs from the parlors and give them to me to sell!" Emerio says with a gay-yay, raising his glass in a cheers-like manner, before knocking back all his wine.
Cloudia and I sweat drop...that's a lot of alcohol! I wouldn't be able to out drink that man!
"We were wondering if you could tell us if it was..." Cloudia trails off, and Emerio raises a brow.
"A supernatural entity? Well darling, of course it was." Emerio says, making a 'duh' pose, and I arch a brow.
"Supernatural entity?" I question, and Emerio looks at me. "Demons, angels, reapers, the like of that." He says, "And I'm an expert at indentifying them."
"Reapers...as in grim reapers?" I ask, confused, and Emerio looks at Cloudia, "She doesn't even know?!" Emerio smacks his lips, "Girl! You shoulda known better than that!"
Cloudia sighs, cocking her hip to the side. "Supernatural entities exist, and it just so happens that some of them walk among us. Most are pretty neutral, but some, mostly demons, go off the walls crazy, and stir up trouble. I don't deal with them much."
"I'm the spawn of one of these off-the-wall crazies, a reaper and a human. Shinigamis are created by people committing suicide, so I had a .001% chance of existing, but my dad was a reaper, mom a human. Crazy drunk night, and here I am. I have been here for only a few hundred years though, so." Emerio says, waving it off like nothing, and my eyes widen.
This is...crazy! But, in all honesty, not hard to believe. If we humans exist, why can't other creatures like us exist too?
"...than I tried killing myself because I was suicidal for a bit, but I came back with the shinigami in me! Won't say it works for everyone, though." Emerio says, putting his hands on hips.
Wow...that turned intense quickly.
"Get to the point Emerio, what exactly was it?" Cloudia asks, and Emerio smirked.
"It was the most common: a rampaging demon. First, he subdued the victim into a false sense of security, than he invited them to the place of murder, where he promptly sent a bash to their head, which sent them unconscious. Then, the demon proceeded to tear out their throat and vital organs, stealing the poor victim's soul in the process after drinking their blood."
"I thought demons weren't vampires..." I say, grossly shivering at the thought of blood-sucking demons, which would be like flying spiders to me.
"They aren't, but rogue demons especially love to make a mess out of their meal." Emerio says, refilling his glass of wine from a fresh bottle. "It's their signature, a gross one at that, though. Demons can drink the blood, almost as if it was a glass of wine that compliments their meal."
"How are we going to kill it, than?" I ask, and Emerio thinks. "Well, because of the huge mess that this demon made, one can consider it a lesser demon on the edges of being a middle-class, as he can enter a church, though they are slightly weaker there. But, if it is a lower/middle class, they cannot wear or hold holy items for an extended period of time or enter holy grounds...so to kill one, you'd have to have it in a church with blessed items. Want some wine?"
"Definitely," I say, walking up to the bar as Emerio pours me a glass to the brim.
I'll need at least 5 glasses to forget all this crazy shit! I take a sip, thick liquid rushing into my throat, leaving a sweet taste.
Suddenly, the taste turns vile, and I look at Emerio. "Spit it out, if it's nasty! Ew, don't vomit in my bar~!" He says with a very sassy voice, sliding a glass over to me, and I pick up the cool glass, spitting the contents of the wine into the cup, coughing up every last, vile bit.
It was certainly disgusting!
Looking up at the glass, I watch the wine turn a dark purple color, and Emerio eyes it curiously. "Why, isn't that odd!" He says, as Cloudia walks up from behind me, eyeing the glass.
"What does dark purple mean?" She asks, and I arch a brow, what is this about?
"She's a witch, supposedly, but she doesn't look very witchy to me..." Emerio says, looking me up and down, and my cheeks flush. "What does that mean!"
"This wine indicates race, 100% humans don't have reactions, while supernaturals do. For example, if a reaper drinks it, they'll spit out a lighter red, since they are the most similar race to humans, as they once were humans. Witches have dark purple, demons black, angels a clear, whitish color, etc." Emerio explains, and I sigh. This is all so confusing!
"So I'm a witch?" I ask, looking at my hands, as if they'd have anything to do with witchcraft. "Precisely, though you probably don't know how to use your magic based off your reaction. Sit, you'll get dizzy." rmerio says, and I sit on the barrel seat, information piling into my head. Cloudia is silent to this exchange, silently taking notes.
"So, you're a witch, and witches can basically cast spells using techniques they learned, create potions, fly on a broomstick, age slower, have enhanced agility, endurance, strength and intelligence. They can die if killed, but other than that, they're immortal due to a spell most of them use to keep their youth, which is why they are shunned as a darker creature." Emerio says, and I lean forward, interested.
"What is this spell?"
"They take the souls of the young to give them youth, they do this spell whenever they wish to appear younger." Emerio says bluntly, and I shudder at the thought of soul-stealing. "The magic-gene is typically dormant in a witch's body, until awakened by an encounter with a supernatural force, or a 'push.' I may have given you a push...oops!"
My jaw drops, so I was no longer a human? "What does this mean?! I can catch spells and eat people's souls?"
"Ugh girl! You are so denseeee~!" He complains, pulling out a book from under the counter...where the heck did that come from?! "Some witch bitch left this here incase anymore witches-to-be came by. Put your hand on it." he says, and I hesitantly place my hand on the cover of the worn, leather book, which flashes golden, and suddenly, pain fills every pore of my body.
Knowledge streams into my mind that I didn't think was possible, like which herbs create best healing potions for eye injuries, correct hand movement for full powers in spells, how to fly a broom properly, etc, and the moment it starts it's all over, and I'm left with a heavy feeling in my chest.
"Woah, hot damn girl, you glowed up!" Emerio says, taking off his monocle, as Cloudia looks at me in shock, passing me a mirror. My hair had tumbled out of it's bun, now in long, soft brown chestnut ringlets. My eyebrows were still thick, but were no longer messy and unkempt but perfectly shaped. My nose had lost the knot in it, and was now straight as a board. My eyelashes had turned black, long and glossy, and my lips were thicker and fuller now, tinted pink, and when I smiled in the mirror my teeth were perfectly white and straight. And oh lord, my chest had swollen! It felt so heavy now... I think I busted some stitching in the new dress Cloudia payed for!
"What the hell?!" I scream, falling backwards off the chair, landing on my rump. "All supernatural entities have good looks to draw their prey in, whether they are good or bad entities. It's just your genetics awakening, don't worry. The book had a witch spell that automatically taught you all spells in the Official Witch Index, there's other books you can 'download' to learn spells." Emerio explains, and I stand up wobbily, Cloudia lending me an arm to support myself.
"We'll have to get your measurements...again..." she mutters, passing my her black trench coat which I quickly pull over myself. "Good to see you again, Emerio. This was very useful information." Cloudia presses the back of her hand to my back, practically pushing me out of the downstairs bar, "Bye Emerio." I say as a farewell, and he waves from behind us, "Farewell ladies~!"
Cloudia and I walk up the stairs, and realization dawns upon me. "Gah! I'm a witch! A freaking witch!" I exclaim, running my fingers through my loose hair that blows in the wind. "A witch! Oh lord, this corset is starting to feel extremely tight!"
"Into the carriage you go~." Cloudia says, pushing me into the carriage, slamming the door behind her. "Gah, I wish I could just be in proper attire, I feel like a tramp like this!"
Suddenly, Cloudia's trenchcoat rips off of me, discarding itself to the side. The clothes I wore seemed to stretch to fit me, reshaping itself and my hair is pulled up into a braided bun. Suddenly it stops, and I'm left in proper attire.
"Well, that was interesting. Isn't there multiple witch types?" Cloudia asks, as the carriage rumbles down a road, and I find myself nodding. "I suppose I'm a solitary witch, who has no interest in joining covens and dabbles in different areas of magic." I frown to myself, "This information I can recall suddenly is all very strange to me..."
"It's strange to me too, damn!" Cloudia says with a laugh, "I'm human, I know, I did the test a few years ago when I started the underworld business. Instead of being vile, it was EXTREMELY sour...blah! Sour tasting things are the absolute worst!" Cloudia makes a face, and I chuckle.
"Well, I feel very...uncomfortable now. I mean, I am now extremely attractive, but I had no problem with the way I was looking before...before this happened!" I say, gesturing to my body. Cloudia frowns slightly, "Most women would kill to look like that."
"I am not most women, though. But, I guess... I guess I'll just go along like this." I say, looking out the window.
Cloudia nods, as she pulls out a book, filled with pages sticking out. "So, if we follow along this pattern, we can attack the demon next Sunday. Do you think you'll be able to help..."
"Kill it?" I finish, and she nods, and I look down at my palms, feeling tingles in them. "I'll try my best, and I will prevail. What's the plan?" I ask, and she smirks and begins to explain the plan.
Following Sunday-
"Hello Pastor Benjamin," I say after the mass that I had actually zoned out after, and he looks at me in surprise, a blush rising to his cheeks. "Wow, Conall...you look amazing."
What compliments that once would make me flush had no affect on me, as I knew that this beauty I had gained was the only reason I was receiving these compliments. "My little sister in America has gotten sick recently, and since I am unable to go to America to see her, as it is so expensive, I'd like to have a private-me prayer session tonight. I was wondering if I you can leave the church front or back unlocked for me?" I ask, and he smirks for a moment, which grows into a bright smile, but I catch it. This only confirms my suspicions...
Oh God, why is only the handsome men the most sinful? "Of course, Conall, for convenience for you, I'll unlock both. Say about...7:00?" He says, and I nod, faking a smile. "Thank you, Pastor Benjamin!" I say, giving a quick curtsy, before I turn on my heels and walk down the street, smile falling off my face.
Around the corner, Cloudia was waiting for me inside a carriage, and I hopped inside, and we set off for the manor to prepare.
In less than a week, I've been honing my skills as a witch, and a swordsman, err, woman. Tanaka had trained over in Japan apparently, and showed me skills to use while sword fighting. I also read more action-novels, sucking up information on how to use different fighting techniques.
I also did research on witches, and performed self-experiments in the spare room Cloudia had in the downstairs room. I recorded my observations in a large book, with only 20 of the 600 pages filled, but I plan to continue the self experiments.
"Are you ready?" Cloudia asks, once 6:40 arrived, and I nodded, as she dropped me off a mile from the church in the clothes I was wearing last week, with a few witchy alterations. How much one's life could change in a week's worth of time...
Walking towards the church, I no longer winced as my feet were in the tight boots, and the scratch of the fabric no longer felt like a burden. After 15 minutes, I arrived at the church.
Taking a sigh, I adjusted my long sleeve, uncorking the bottle of salt, and entered through the front door, which was unlocked, and the door creaked open to reveal Pastor Benjamin standing at the alter.
"Pastor Benjamin? What are you doing here?" I ask, closing the door, placing my hands behind my back, moving my right hand slightly as I willed the salt to float down to form a line of protection-a barrier, so the lesser demon can't escape the church. Anyone can really do it, and that's why Cloudia is covering the back of the church.
"Well, I thought it'd be best if I helped you with your prayers...come here, Conall." he says, and hesitantly, I walk towards him, finger twitching to transfigure the spare vial that once carried salt into a sword. All I have to do is wait for Cloudia's signal...
In the past week, I've learned 2 things. 1-how to transfigure objects into other objects, and 2- how to manipulate the pathway of an object.
"Pastor Benjamin, I did not know you'd be here. I w-" I start, but he places a finger to my lips, shushing me.
"I've always found you intriguing, Conall..." he says, bending his head down to kiss me, and I place my right hand on his chest. "I wonder how your soul would taste!"
"Now!" Cloudia calls out from the back room, as I transfigure the bottle in my sleeve into a sword, which sticks upward from my sleeve into Pastor Benjamin's submandibular gland (the part before the chin). Grasping the hilt of the sword, I twist it slightly, stabbing forward and moving it to the right, beheading the 'Pastor'. As the body drops to the floor, a black, inky substance leaks from the body.
"That's the demon! Cloudia!" I shout out, looking from the corner of my eye at Cloudia, and she nods, taking the vile of holy water, throwing it at the demon. The vial smashes, leaking its holy liquids unto the demon, causing steam to rise from it. A high pitched scream runs out, and I take my sword, dipping it in the baptismal fountain as this occurs, before stabbing the black inky substance, where it completely evaporates into the air.
Breathing heavily, Cloudia and I look at each other. "It's done," she says, and I nod, looking at the body before us. "This must've been a body the demon's been possessing to get close to the church goers..." I say, and my left hand twitches slightly. Turning to my left, I see a gray-haired man sitting in the pew, looking bored.
"Who the hell are you?" I ask, looking at the gray haired man. He had an oddly shaped weapon, which appeared to be a large scythe created from a skeleton on it, and he wore a black trench coat with a white collared shirt and black tie underneath. He had shoulder-length silvery hair, on the right side of his face a long braided strand, paired with silvery bangs, and wore a pair of rectangular glasses with an underwire, and I could see the slight glimmer of what seems to be ear piercings on his ears. He had a perfect complexion too, and his face was unmarred.
He looks up in shock, "You can see me?" He asks in a curious voice, and Cloudia looks at me confused. "Conall, who are you talking with?" She asks, and I look back at the man. The glare from his glasses fades, revealing electric green and yellow eyes.
Faking a shiver, I turn to Cloudia. "I believe the murder must've gotten to me, I thought I saw the ghost of Benjamin, I apologize. Let's go." I say, looking back at the spot where the silver haired man sat.
'Reaper?' I mouth, and he smirks, resting his chin on his hand. "You got it~! And you're the only one who can see me, witch-bitch." He responds with a cackle, and I roll my eyes.
"We're burning the church." Cloudia says, and I raise a brow. "Why? This is a holy place." I say, and she steps towards the door of the church. "An unholy has tainted it, it will only attract more demons." She says, stepping out.
"Oh! This is hilarious~! Isn't this your precious church?" The silver-haired reaper says, but I ignore him, following outside where Cloudia was, who was lugging gasoline from the carriage inside the church.
"The remnants of a demon lay here, so we need to completely cleanse this place. The holy water will burn and evaporate into the air, making it a holy fire, so we don't need to worry about that fact." She says, popping the cap off the gasoline, pouring it over pews in the church, but she avoided the spot the reaper sat. I look over at the reaper confused, and he smirks.
"Humans avoid my presence, after all I am death~!" The reaper cackles, standing up from his spot, "Watch!"
He walks behind Cloudia, and just stands there, and she shivers. "Did it suddenly get cold here?" She asks, as she steps away from where she was pouring, walking over to me, passing me the can.
"Uh, yeah..." I say, glancing up at the reaper, who is laughing hysterically. "I'll transfigure this into a match, but I won't burn the church." I say, walking out of the church.
"Where are you going?" She asks, "The carriage!" I yell back, quickly hopping into the carriage, and relaxing once I get inside, closing my eyes so I don't have to see the flames engulf the church.
"Boo~!" A voice says, and I jump in my seat, opening my eyes to see that damn reaper. "Ah! What was that for?" I question, crossing my arms as he cackles.
"I felt like it, that's the reason!" He says, and I roll my eyes. "Whatever, just don't mess with Cloudia, she's only a human." I say, and he smiles a chesire-grin.
"You're protecting the human and you've been in our world for less than a week? How noble~"
"How do you know this information? You only get cinematic records once a person dies." I say, recounting the basic information I was granted from the book.
"True, true, but I was there last Sunday at the last murder, and I followed you for a day because there was a possibility the demon may have possessed you, Connor."
My eyebrow twitched, Cloudia said my name, so now this baby-faced grandpa was going to tease me by saying it wrong. "It's Conall, dumbass..." I mutter, and his mouth opens in shock.
"Wow! This prim-and-proper commoner American is now swearing! What an in-ter-rest-ing development! The fangirls reading this fanfiction must be eating this up right now, especially since there is no Sebastian or Ciel here right now!" He says quirkily back to me, and I cross my arms, sticking my tongue out.
"What does that mean?! And why are you even still here?" I ask, and he smirks. "To let you know of something." He says, leaning forward, green eyes glistening.
"And what is that?"
"My job isn't done." he says as the smell of smoke reaches my nose and I turn my head to the church to see it engulfed in flames.
"Flapjacks!" I scream out, bursting from the carriage. What can I do?! I have no idea what to do with my powers!
Transfiguration...what can I transfigure!? A sudden knot in my chest appears, and my anxiety surfaces from the dark parts of my mind.
Swallowing them down, I raise my hands towards the church, pouring my energy into turning the fire into water. The fire starts shrinking, emitting white smoke before it's gone. Not what I was asking for...but this works!
Rushing inside the church, I see a passed-out Cloudia laying on the wooden floor, burn marks on her skin. Running towards her, I think of what to do...the air smells heavy of gasoline, this must be bad in her lungs.
"Tanaka! Help me!" I cry out, and the butler-who-serves-as-footman today rushes in, and gasps at the state his lady is in.
"Carry her to the carriage!" I say, as he nods, picking up Cloudia bridal-style, rushing from the church.
Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair, setting it lose from the bun. The church creaks, and I raise my head to the roof, looking at the piece of roof that's about to collapse on me. The wood falls loose, and in shock, I see it falling towards me, and I close my eyes, waiting for death to take me.
Suddenly, there's a large push, and I fall away from the fallen wood, and cracking open and eye, I see the silver-haired man ontop of me...
He pushed me out of the way?!
"You can't die today, I won't let you." he says breathlessly, standing up. "Help your friend with her burns... and do your duty as a witch."
I nod, standing up, reaching the fabric of my skirt, and ripping it aside to reveal male's trousers underneath, and the silver haired man's green eyes widen. "I must go...thank you." I say, running from the church, fabric in hand, and I push into the carriage, which immediately sets off.
Taking the cloth, I tear it into strips of bandages, and taking off my shoe I transfigure it into a bowl of cold water. Dipping the makeshift bandages in the water, I wrap them around the burns on an unconscious Cloudia. She has two on her arm, and one on the back of her neck. Though it's not the best method, it's the best I can do for now...
She shivers in her sleep, and I sigh. "Please hurry, Tanaka..." I mutter, and I hear a slight cackle.
"He's already going as fast as possible," The silver haired man's voice says, and I look up to see the silver haired man lounging on the chair opposite, watching with an amused expression on face as Cloudia shivers. "When I return to the mansion, I'm preparing a remedy for burns. She might get sick, though, as she inhaled the gasoline smoke fumes, possible carbon monoxide poisoning..." I mutter, placing my hand on the back of her forehead to feel her slightly warm.
Suddenly, a flash of ingredients run through my mind, and my eyes widen. That's it, I can create a cure...
"We're here, Conall." Tanaka's voice calls out, as he opens the door to the carriage. "Tanaka, I need you to carry Cloudia to the spare room that's next to hers. Don't lay her on the bed, but the floor. In fact, push aside the bed too for more space. Treat her burns, and use ice cold water. Open all the windows in that hallway where the room is, and in the room. Don't light a candle, either. I need to go prepare..." I ramble, running out of the carriage quickly, the silver moon overcasting the mansion, as I make my way to the kitchen.
"Hello Conall, are you looking for anything?" The chef, Megan, asks. "Yes, Megan, can you be a dear and get me some Aloe Vera from the garden, please? Also, some lavender, jasmine, a branch from the pine tree, and 7 smooth rocks?"
Megan was the chef of the Phantomhive Manor, and she was an aging Brit, with kind grey eyes, smile lines, a crooked nose, and grey hair streaked red that's pulled into a tight bun. "Of course, I'll go right away." she says, turning around and bursting into a sprint.
She also was a famous cross-country runner.
Pulling out a metal bowl, I put in vanilla extract, black tea leaves (which are imported from Asia), vinegar, honey, oats, and coconut shavings. I take a spoon, stirring the ingredients 4 times clockwise, than 7 times anti-clockwise.
Adding a spoonful of milk, I take a sip of water from a cup I grabbed, before spitting in the mixture. This sounded gross, but it's what the recipe from the book says in my mind...
"I have the items you requested, Conall." Megan says, appearing in the doorway with a woven picnic basket, lavender poking out of the top.
"Bless your soul, Megan." I say, as she sets the basket next to me. "Can I do anything else for you?" She asks, and I nod.
"Get 7, regular, plain plates and soak them in the extract of Ylnag-Ylang, lilac and rose in the cabinet." I say, and her eyes widen. "But, that's everything we have to soak the plates in!"
"This is to save Cloudia. You can buy more extract later, or make it, but you cannot renew a life." I respond sharply, which shuts the old woman up, as she takes out the plane white plates used for servants...good.
Opening the basket, I pull out 5 lavender flowers, and I take two fingers, swiping the flowers off the stem into the mixture. Mixing it with my left hand, I mix in the jasmine, the pine needles, and I continue to mix this 20 times clockwise, than 5 times anti-clockwise.
Taking my right hand, I place my hand in the sticky mixture, stirring it 5 times clockwise. "Liquefiet!" I say, as the mixture glows gold around my hands, before the glow fades to reveal a golden liquid.
"They're soaking now," Megan says from behind me, and I look at the sink, which is filled halfway with champagne-colored liquids, and 7 plates are in it.
"Good. Now, please go to bed, and don't follow me at whatever cost." I say, looking as fear floods her eyes, and I feel bad at how mean I am to her, but this is to save Cloudia. She nods, and runs from the kitchen, and I sigh, tucking the basket under my arm, and I hold the bowl in my arm.
"Surge laminas!" I exclaim, and the plates slowly rise from the sink, dripping the golden liquid. Walking from the kitchen, the plates follow me, as I make my way to the room.
"Tanaka, please leave the room, and exit through the left hallway." I call out, as I reach the hallway next to the room. "Yes, Conall." he responds, as I hear the door open, and footsteps leave, growing faint. When I can no longer hear them, I walk to the spare room, opening it.
I see Cloudia lying on the wooden floor, with two of the windows open. The room is extremely dark, but I have better sight now, so that helps a lot. Setting the basket to the side, I pluck out the plates from the air, setting them around her.
Cloudia is facing upwards, belly to the air, as her palms are facing upwards too. She's wearing a night dress, with her corset tossed aside...Tanaka must've dressed her. This helps a lot... I place the stones in the mixture, which I set aside, as I set up the plates. 1 above her head, 1 by each palm, one by each foot, and 1 kitty-cornered to each shoulder.
When a mental timer goes off, I remove the stones from the mixture, placing them on the plates. The room smells like a sweet garden, and I don't know how to feel about that...it was almost too sweet. The rest of the mixture I mix with aloe vera fluids, and I make marks on her forehead, above her eyebrows, under her eyes, and on her throat, covering up her burns completely. I draw them on her hands, arms, legs, and stomach.
"Alright, this will be over quickly..." I mutter, standing up tall by the feet of Cloudia.
"Oooh! You're removing the sickness from her body~!" The silver-haired man's voice calls out, and my eyebrow twitches, as I look to where the bed is pushed aside to reveal that silver-haired turd.
"Go away!" I yell angrily, and he gives me the jazz-hands. "How about no!"
"Go away!" I exclaim louder, eyes flashing as he's suddenly thrown out the window, as if someone plucked him out of the room and tossed him out the window.
"Aghhhh!" He exclaims, as he falls, and my eyebrow twitches. He'll be alright. Turning my attention back to Cloudia, I raise my hands in front of me. Closing my eyes, I move my hands to their own beat.
"Ignis!" I cry out, opening my eyes to reveal bright, glowing silver orbs, as I move my hands upward, causing fire to erupt from the stones, white steam rising from the fire. In a trance, almost, I make different signals with my hands, causing the fire to move. My lips chant odd words, as the burns slowly shrink, revealing perfect, burnless skin. Her breathing becomes less ragged, as I continue, until it's steady, and no longer a wheeze.
Finally, the flames cut out, and I become aware of something trickling down my face. Wiping at my brow, I wipe away sweat, and under my nose, blood.
"How unsightly..." I mutter, wiping it away with the back of my hand. "Unsightly?! You literally just made up a spell to save someone from carbon monoxide poisoning, and you call a nose bleed unsightly?!" The silver-haired man asks, hands propped up on the window sill.
"I did not know reapers could fly," I say with raised brow, as he smirks. "They can't."
In shock, I walk over to the window sill, peering over to see the silver-haired man literally hanging over the windowsill, only hanging on with his arms.
"You're lucky I won't push you out again..." I mutter, causing him to chuckle. "What is your name, reaper?"
"That's a secret," he says, and I roll my eyes. "You that body awfully pretty lookin' while you're doing your work, don't you?" He asks, looking at Cloudia, and my eyebrow twitches.
"You sound like some undertaker, why does that interest you?" I ask, and he smirks up at me, green eyes glinting.
"An undertaker sounds like fun, why not..." he says, pushing himself up to sit on the windowsill. "Call me the Undertaker!"
"I'm calling you old-man with that hair..." I mutter, and his mouth opens in shock. "How rude!" the 'Undertaker' complains, giving me a smirk. "I'm only less than a thousand!"
"You're right," I say with a sigh, as he smirks victoriously. "...you're more of a geeser. How was your life before candles were invented?"
"I'm not that old!" He complains, and I laugh. "Well, you have business somewhere, so you best be off now."
"But, Connie, you're more interesting!" he exclaims, and my eye twitches. "Get out old man!" I exclaim, pushing him out of the window again, a blush coming to my cheeks, as I turn from the window, looking at a peacefully sleeping Cloudia. With a sigh, I sit on the bed, flopping over in exhaustion, before I fall asleep.
A year has passed since that day, and I am now 21, and Cloudia 21. I've helped Cloudia on cases, but none of them involving another demon, thank god. I've practiced my magic since then, and have become a lot more powerful and knowledgeable of witchcraft and the likes. I've also become a lot more confident in myself, speaking up more, instead of being a weakling.
I've also started immersing myself in studies in the basement of the manor, where I study the supernatural, and list my findings in books. I found the weaknesses of witches, the strengths, and the ways to kill one. The things they can do, what they cannot, and how to identify one. After a year of experiments, I had finally finished, which I celebrated with a drink with Cloudia.
We have grown closer as friends, and I care deeply for her, but she is to be married off soon. She accepts the marriage willingly, but the man, Cedric, always acted like he had a stick up his rear, and was very cowardly. His family owned a shipping business for trades, and it would be passed down to Cloudia too.'
Personally, I didn't care for him much, Cloudia deserved much better, but it was an arranged marriage, and nothing can be done.
Twisting my thick, curly hair into a french braid, I put on a black hat with peacock feathers on it, and my black 'Princess' styled jacket. I wear a dark purple dress under it with my knee-high boots. A leather boot is looped around my waist with a navy blue scabbard for my sword with a golden handle. Looking in the mirror, I look at how little curls pop out from my braid, framing my face, and I roll my eyes. This always happens. Going to my window bench, I sit down, and write down another entrance in my diary, before resuming my place in the new book I had gotten from Cloudia's private library...I possibly read 1 book a day.
"Conall!" Cloudia's voice calls out, and she pops her head into the room, a smile on face. "Today's a spe-cial day!"
Cocking an eyebrow, I turn to her. "How so?"
"Well, I am going to the Queen's palace today to get out latest mission, and you can come with me for once!" She exclaims, and my eyes widen.
The Queen?!
"Well, come on then! The carriage is outside awaiting us!" Cloudia says, grabbing me by the hand, pulling my along through the corridors.
"But I'm not properly dressed!" I whine, and she turns to me, rolling her large, blue eyes. "Fix yourself if you complain!"
"Ugh," I say, and the dress turns to a satin version of it in a glow of gold, black lace framing the edges of the dress. "This will be fine."
"Come on, in you go!" She says, as we make it outside, and Tanaka opens the door to the carriage, and we hop inside the carriage.
"I was thinking of getting a dog," she says, and I raise a brow. "Why?"
"Well, they're absolutely precious. How about I name it something serious, like Ciel? Or something quirky, like Noodles?" She asks, and I lightly laugh.
"I was thinking of completing my witchy look with a black cat that follows me around, actually. I'll name it something serious like William, or something quirky, like Cloudia."
"Hey!" She responds in a fit of giggles, lightly hitting me. "If you're to name it something silly," she says, dropping her voice to a whisper, "you should name it Cedric."
I gasp, lightly hitting her back. "He's your betrothed! I can't believe you jab at him like that," I respond, barely holding in laughter, and she looks me in the eyes.
"Well, it's true! Besides, rumors that between now and the 3 months during the summer season, he'll propose. I have to use this opportunity while I have it! Valentine's day is coming up too, hopefully he won't epicly propose to me that day." She jests, as the carriage pulls to a stop. Looking outside the window, I see the tall, looming structure of Buckingham.
"Lovely palace," I say with a gasp, as the footman opens the door to reveal two familiar men...
Those were the men from the demon case last year, and look exactly the same!
"We're here to escort the both of you to her majesty," they say at the same time, giving a short bow, turning on their feet and leading us into the palace.
We walk towards the throne room, and the doors open to reveal the Queen in all her glory, sitting regally on the throne, a matching one empty.
"Your Majesty," Cloudia says, dipping into a curtsy, as I follow suit. "Rise."
We rise from the curtsy. "This is my friend and assistant in cases, Conall Taylor." I smile, "Pleasure to meet you, Your Grace."
"And to you, too. This oncoming mission is complicated, and very...depressing. I'd like to have you both on the case, as you bring in better results than Scotland Yard."
"Of course," Cloudia says, as the grey-eyed butler gives Cloudia a stack of papers, before scurrying off to the Queen's side. "That will be all."
The world fades to black around the edges, and with a single blink, it's all gone.
