Chapter 6

I tighten the laces on my arms, pulling the leather and steel gauntlets tight over my pale wrists. This time, I will not be unprotected when facing that red-headed fiend. I underestimated him the last time we met, and I neglected to protect myself with my usual armor. Funny, the same thing happened when I went on my mission to kill Ciel. It seems that in my cockiness lies my weakness.

Mae-Rin tightens the corset-like breastplate over my torso and I slide my slim twin blades into their black sheaths.

She stands back and whispers, "Madam you look beautiful, like a warrior princess you do."

I don't reply; just give her a curt nod. This is no time for insignificant niceties. There's revenge to be had. I channel all my emotions into my hatred for Grell, rather than dwelling over Sebastian. I wince as I remember him. Too painful. Far, far, too painful. Then I picture the Grell, and all my fury floods back to replace my agony. What can I say. I've made it this far by turning one negative emotion into another, more violent one. But, I suppose, that's how all monsters are born.

Sebastian offers me the dark blue rose, a slight Cheshire cat grin donning his lips.

"This rose of course cannot hold a candle to your beauty, so I hope that such a paltry gift will not offend you."

I roll my eyes in exasperation and gently grasp the stem of the flower.

"Sebastian, quit teasing me. It's lovely," I whisper and inhale the sweet scent of its silky petals.

I sigh as I bring the flower away from my face, "and it seems this delicate rose is far too romantic for a monster like me."

His crimson eyes bore into my emerald ones and he leans closer to me, stroking my cheek with his gloved fingertips.

"Dear Tori," he says, "You are not a monster. Everything that you have done, well, humans have pushed you to do it. You are merely a creature who has been whipped by the world one too many times, and so you have finally turned around to fight back against this hellhole."

Whipped? If only this demon knew how literal his metaphor actually is. If I was a weak human, my body would be marred by enough abusive scars to give me a sort of ugly twisted armor. Forget about my mind. I'm surprised that after all these years it hasn't broken apart and left me a quivering mess of a girl.

But still, I'm a murderer, not matter what this world has done to me. I've killed other villains I suppose, but I've also killed innocence for the sake of money—no not just for the sake of money. To survive. Being an assassin garners one a sort of uneasy respect, and so people don't try to fuck with me so often. After decades of being hunted down and betrayed, it seems now the Underworld has realized that I'm no porcelain doll to be played with and broken. They've finally discovered the rabid monster that lies within my empty soul.

Sebastian lightly taps my forehead and asks, "What is causing you so much concern?"

I sigh, and shift my weight to lean back against the pale wall of the hallway.

"There is simply no justification for what I have done. As I said before, there is only one word for me, mon-,"

Sebastian claps his hand against my mouth and scowls at me.

"Enough. Your soul is purer than that of many humans I have met."

His frown shifts into a demonic smile and he removes his hand from my mouth.

"But, if you insist on labeling yourself so," he wraps a long arm around my waist and tugs me in tight next to his body, and silences my weak protestations with his lips.

He pulls away for a second and whispers, "We can be monsters together."

I have to resist the urge to slap myself across the face. How could a single word trigger such a memory, one once sweet but now unbelievably bitter? Sebas- He was wrong. I am a monster.

I slide the black satin mask down my face and tie the ribbons around the back of my head, and give myself a cursory glance in the mirror. What I see before me speaks for itself. The green eyes that glare back at me thirst for blood. Blood and revenge. Mae-Rin quivers where she stands at the ferocious glint in my icy eyes.

She whispers, "M-miss I didn't know that you're the Ghost."

I roll my eyes at the silly nickname given to me by the press—the Ghost, the phantom masked assassin who never misses a target. Well, all but one target. But what does it matter? The press never got wind of that one.

Mae-Rin stammers again, her words blurring until they are unintelligible. My eyes dart back to her.

"Speak up!" I snap, not in the mood for the maid's nervous ways.

"A-al-always admired your work I did madam so cl-clean it always was," she manages to stammer out.

Ah yes. The maid somehow was once an assassin such as myself. S- The butler told me about her incredible sniper abilities. Its almost unbelievable that this panicky little girl standing before me could have been a killer.

I give her a curt nod and am about to reply when a sharp knock echoes around the large room. Ciel walks into the room, followed by Tanaka. My muscles bunch and I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I let my lips pull back over my elongating ivory fangs.

"Is it time?"

The small boy gives just one small response, a dip of his chin.