Paradise Lost

~O~

"The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself"

-Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays-

~O~

Charlotte had neither the patience nor the inclination to wait for Ciel to come to a decision or question the false doctor. Her feet took the stairs two, sometimes three at a time until she reached a higher deck where the screams were much clearer. The yellow lights made the bloodstains splattered on the walls look like black ink and the air was thick with the metallic scent of fresh blood.

The blade of her scythe cut through any corpses that made the unfortunate error of getting in her way. Charlotte hacked at them with prejudice, separating head from neck and legs from thighs. In all her years the young woman didn't think she'd ever been so angry.

"Help!" Someone screamed. There was a man backed into the corner of bedroom. The door had been broken clear off its hinges by the unthinking brute shambling towards him. The man scrambled backwards, his face contorted in a rictus of primal fear. Charlotte recognised him by the pin on his lapel as a member of the Phoenix Society. "Dear God please help me!"

Charlotte stepped into the room and, with a sharp flourish, sent the blade of the scythe flying through the skull of the corpse. It staggered once, twice, and then collapsed to the ground. The others stopped and turned to stare at her and Charlotte pulled back the chain in preparation.

However they didn't attack her. Instead they just stood there, occasionally swaying in place but not moving. Confused but still disgusted, Charlotte cut them all down. Once she was certain that they were all unmoving, she considered the man dispassionately for a second and then turned and walked out.

"Hey! Hey you!" He stumbled to his feet and ran after her, nearly slipping on the wet floor. "Who are you? Look, you seem like you're skilled enough to survive this; how about you protect me huh? I'll even pay you for it!"

"Not interested," Charlotte replied shortly. Then something occurred to her and she turned around and walked back to the man. "You're a member of that stupid society, aren't you?"

The businessman puffed out his chest proudly, much to Charlotte's scorn. As if this was any reason to be proud. "That I am," he informed her with a too-white grin. "A high-ranking member in fact! I donated a lot of money to this medical venture you know!"

"Did you?" Charlotte hummed, tapping her finger against her chin. "So you thought money would let you defy a fundamental law of the universe?"

"Oi, don't look so high-and-mighty you blond tart," he growled at her and got to his feet. "Just get me out of here and I'll make it worth your while!"

"I said I wasn't interested."

"Don't be so hasty, I'm pretty well-off you know! Maybe I'll keep you on as a mistress. Give you jewellery and pretty trinkets; isn't that what you girls like?"

"...vous êtes très grossier."

"Wha-hurk!"

Charlotte crouched down beside the man and watched his fingers scrabble to keep the blood inside his shoulder as his other arm hung uselessly by his side. "It's very rude to insist when a lady says no. Remember that." She left him soaking in a pool of its own blood. That was a tad unnecessary, she decided as she turned a corner and found herself standing before a horde of monsters. I'll do far worse to them.

Her goal was the ballroom, or to be more specific a certain person that she suspected was in the ballroom. She'd just made it to what she knew was a vent that led directly to the First Class Hall when there was suddenly a loud cacophony of metal and glass being broken and the ship gave a mighty lurch like some great monster had snared it. Charlotte grunted as she was flung to the side and her head cracked against the wall. For a moment she saw stars.

What the hell was that?! It felt like the ship had hit something. A collision that big would spell trouble, not only for her but for everyone on board...she'd even left Snake behind in her anger. If something had hit the ship, he might be hurt or trapped or something!

Well she couldn't tell anything from down here. Sparing a glance at the corridor, Charlotte changed gears and ran higher up. Once she'd hacked through the door she was clearly on the First Class Floor. That was when she heard people shouting and spotted some men in dark blue uniforms standing in front of what looked like an elevator crammed full of people.

"From here on is the First Class! Please stand back!" One of the men was insisting. He sounded harried and impatient. Though he hadn't noticed her, one of his subordinates had and quickly alerted him to her presence with a fearful look on his face. "What-? Who the hell are you?"

Charlotte glanced at the people in the elevator and then back at the men. "Why aren't you letting them through?"

"...there's enough panic upstairs," he said out of gritted teeth. "We can't have them running around-"

"Or you want the richer passengers to be able to reach the lifeboats first," Charlotte interrupted plainly. When he gave a startled jerk she knew she'd guessed right. "That sounds terribly unfair. So how about this, mon marin? Open the elevator or I will."

The old sailor took a step back, seemingly at war with himself, and then he turned to someone next to him and nodded. The elevator doors slid open with a loud clang and the crowd poured out, sprinting for higher and hopefully safer ground. Charlotte grabbed one before she could get far, a young woman with pale hair and wide green eyes, and asked her, "while you were down there did you see a man with scales and snakes?"

"I didn't see anything like that but I did see two strange men. They both had mechanical instruments that I'd never seen before."

More Reapers, Charlotte scowled. God she hoped Snake was safe. He didn't do well in the cold, and neither did the others. Feeling a little helpless, Charlotte sent up a prayer to whoever was listening...at least let him be okay...

...and then a hearse pulled by skeletal horses and driven by a corpse raced by. Charlotte's head whipped around to follow it, her eyes widening in shock. Time slowed as she caught sight of a very familiar insignia painted on the side of the pitch-black wagon.

"Ce bâtard," Charlotte ground her teeth together.

"Now, now Lottie-dearest," he tutted disapprovingly from behind her. Charlotte turned and stared at the Undertaker. He beamed back at her, looking just like he always did, from the top of his ludicrous hat to hems of his rumpled black robes. "Is that any way to talk about your father? And after I gave you such a useful gift too. Oh but look at you, my little spider~. You're a mess!"

"I-" The words caught in her throat. The Undertaker ambled closer and gently wiped the blood from her cheeks and neck, humming a soft lullaby. For a moment Charlotte forgot her anger and betrayal. She felt like a child again, taking comfort from the familiar scent of chemicals and the feel of rough cotton against her face. Her eyes prickled and she sniffed. "Papa, I-"

"There, there dearest~," he cooed. "It's been scary, hasn't it~? I guess these ones were no good."

"...what?"

"Hm? Oh, I was just thinking that this experiment was a bust~," he chuckled and patted her head. Something that used to make Charlotte feel warm and fuzzy suddenly made her feel small and inferior. "When we get back I'll try again~. Hopefully it'll work better next time."

Unable to bear it anymore, Charlotte pulled away from him. The Undertaker cocked his head, his hand still hovering in mid-air as he regarded his pseudo-daughter. Her fists were clenched so tightly he could almost hear the material grinding together. "What was the point?"

"Hm?" He lowered his hand. "The point of what?"

"This! All of this!" Charlotte waved her free hand around agitatedly. "Why would you make these things? Why would you bring them here? You even want to make more, but why?! Aren't I-!"

Aren't I enough? The words hung like a sword between them, suspended over the ribbon that connected them. One wrong word was all it would take and still the Undertaker didn't respond. He just stood an stared at her until Charlotte's eyes stung and her vision grew blurry. She touched her cheeks and felt wetness. Tears. Huh, so I can still cry even like this.

"Lottie-"

"Don't," her voice cracked on the word and she lowered her hand to her throat where she fingered the ribbon around her neck. Bright yellow, canary yellow, a noose tight around her throat to hide the scars of a mad scientist's work. 'An experiment' he'd said. Was that what she'd been? "Why did you even make me?" She whispered.

Charlotte felt strangled. It was painful, so goddamn painful. Why did it hurt so much? Black fabric filled her vision and she felt a cold hand touch her face. The Undertaker sounded uncharacteristically serious, so that made the two of them. "Charlotte, you're hyperventilating. You need to calm down."

...I do need to calm down. This was no time to be breaking down into hysterics. For one thing, the ship was sinking and even though she technically couldn't drown, Charlotte wasn't about to swim back to the mainland. And second of all,

"I am the only one of me that can exist," Charlotte got to her feet and stared the Undertaker in the face. "I am the only one of me that can exist. Whatever you make, whatever monsters you animate, I will tear them apart."

The Undertaker watched his daughter run off and then bent down to pick up the strip of ribbon from the floor. A smile grew on his face until he began to giggle to himself. "You truly are your mother's daughter."

oOo

Ciel, Sebastian and Elizabeth watched the two Reapers as they disappeared through the ceiling. The two children heaved breaths of relief while Sebastian readjusted his suit and gloves, grimacing at a large rip in the white fabric. This butler aesthetic was definitely difficult to maintain when your employer tended to throw himself in dangerous situations on an almost day-to-day basis.

After replacing the spoiled glove, he turned back to Ciel. The young boy huffed. "We should hurry now they're gone-hurk!"

"Ciel!" Elizabeth hurried over to him. The little girl had surprised the demon. He'd had no idea she was capable of such; still given just who her mother was he should have suspected as much. "Ciel, get on my back! I'll carry you!"

"Wha-!"

"Lady Elizabeth, allow me to handle that," Sebastian intervened smoothly. For some reason men found it embarrassing to be carried by women and although it would be hilarious to watch Ciel be embarrassed, as a butler and a technical adult he ought to be the one doing that. "Your leg is quite swollen young master..."

"Ciel..." Sebastian winced as Elizabeth started bawling her eyes out. Hell why were humans so emotional? Especially the small ones, they were always leaking for one reason or the other. "Ciel, do you hate me?! Am I too scary? I wanted to be cute for you!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"B-Before, y-you said you didn't want a scary wi-i-ife!" She hiccupped and sobbed. The demon sighed internally. He could be consuming the souls of the damned right now but instead he was watching a miniature-sized relationship drama unfold. Oh well, at least the reward would be worth it.

Ciel shook his head. "Th-That was in the past!" He told her in a placating manner, "and besides I should be the one apologising right now."

The girl sniffed. Her cheeks and nose were stained red. Her butter-blonde pigtails hung pin-straight at her shoulders and her garments were streaked with bloodstains. Elizabeth looked very little like the dopey airhead he'd always known and Ciel wondered how much of her he didn't know. He'd always been able to put her and his knowledge of her in a little box.

"So you'll take me as your wife?" She asked him. "You don't hate me?"

"I could never hate...!" He started and then he remembered that they had an audience in the form of a demon that was watching them as though he wished he'd brought snacks. Ciel slapped a hand over the grin forming on Sebastian's face. "We don't have time for this! Let's just go already!"

"Aw," a voice mocked from the doorway. Charlotte leaned against the broken hinges with a familiar smile on her face. Snake stood next to her, looking tired but relieved. "Why stop there, Phantomhive? That was almost romantic!"

"I'm glad you're all okay! Says Emily," Snake hurried into the room.

"Where's Stoker?" Ciel questioned.

"I'm sorry, he managed to get away. Says Oscar."

"Not that it matters or anything," Charlotte shrugged, spinning her scythe around and around like a baton. She seemed to be in high spirits, Sebastian noted. Too high spirits actually, like her mood had done a complete 180 and instead of depressed and angry she was giddy and furious. What had happened in the time they'd been separated? "Shouldn't we be heading up to the deck before all the lifeboats are taken?"

"Right," Ciel nodded. "Let's meet up with the Marquis and Marchioness."

My headcanon for Sebastian (which is sort of canon I guess) is that he treats this butler thing like a game. You know how when you're playing a customizable character you gotta maintain your Aesthetic At All Times even if the outfit serves no useful function.

"why are u wearing that dress instead of the Armour of Unbreakability?"

"because the Armour of Unbreakablity ain't cute and what is the point of slaying a dragon if I don't look good while doing it"