Music I listened to while writing :Am I not Merciful ? - Gladiator OST - Hans Zimmer

Ciel Phantomhive's Bedroom

A faint sliding sound reached the boy's weak ears—a barely audible rubbing noise coming from the ceiling, just above his bed.

He remained still, controlling his breathing, while his butler reached for the Indian flute. He watched as the demon lifted the instrument to his lips and waited, his copper eyes fixed on the air vent above the canopy bed.

Ciel raised his eyes to the ceiling as well and caught sight of the black-speckled head of the snake slipping through the grate. He stifled a gasp, resisting the urge to cover his mouth in fear. He was startled that such a large serpent could flatten itself to pass between the thin bars. It must have been empty inside, hungry, searching for prey to feast on.

The creature hissed, flicking the air with its forked tongue as it slithered across the wooden frame of the bed. Ciel felt as though the snake was sniffing the air, seeking the scent of its victim in the dim light that left it blind.

And the boy knew it was him the creature wanted.

A sharp sound suddenly filled the room. Ciel turned quickly toward his butler, who had begun playing thepungi. The music was unpleasant. Ciel grimaced and nearly covered his ears in vain. Yet the effect on the snake was entirely different. Its yellow eyes locked onto the flute, the vibrations of the instrument resonating within its cold-blooded body. After a few strange twists, the snake dropped to the floor.
Ciel jumped, then stood on the bed, pressing himself against the wall.

But the snake merely slithered toward the butler, who continued to play his instrument.

It twisted on the ground, as if driven by the screeching notes escaping from the resonating chamber, trying to resist the charmer who sought to possess it.

Suddenly, the snake stiffened, then gently began to follow the movements of the flute. It undulated slowly, obeying the butler's gestures.

Ciel sighed in relief, relaxing as the serpent appeared to submit. It was a promising start.

However, for the plan to work, everyone had to believe that it was the snake leading Sebastian to the murderer.

Still playing, the demon made faint circular motions, and the snake swayed in the same manner. He stepped forward, swinging the instrument sharply ahead, and to Ciel's satisfaction, the snake slithered forward. Sebastian repeated the maneuver several times, placing one foot in front of the other, and the snake slithered before him.

"It seems docile now," Ciel murmured, though he was still reluctant to approach the dangerous serpent. "They'll believe it's leading us to Snake, and that thepungiis just keeping it harmless."

Sebastian nodded, then motioned to the door, signaling his master. The boy hesitated, then jumped from the bed, his bare feet sliding on the carpet. He picked up the eyepatch that had fallen to the floor when Sebastian had removed it to kiss him, and covered his eye, marked by the cursed seal, tying the black strings into a hasty knot.

He grabbed the silver candelabra from the nightstand and ran to open the door to let the waiting guests into the corridor.

A strong odor filled the air, and Ciel pressed his hand to his nose and mouth.

Nausea rose to his lips.

What a horrible stench! It was likely the incense the servants had spread throughout the manor to direct the snakes toward his room.

How long would it take for the smell to leave the estate?

"About time," Charles Grey growled, leaning against the wall, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Hanging from his belt were the long shackles Ciel knew well, for they had once been used to bind him when he was suspected of Lord Siemens' murder. The Queen's butler glared at the young earl with disdain. "We were suffocating in this stench."

"You've graced us with more exquisite scents, Earl," Lau said sarcastically, his eyes drifting down the boy's bare legs.

Ciel ignored them and stepped aside to let the snake pass, followed by Sebastian, who continued playing his cursed instrument.

"My God, that snake is a monster!" Abberline exclaimed as he spotted the creature writhing across the hallway floor.

"Daboia," Ran Mao murmured as she moved in front of Lau, a dagger in hand.

"What did she say?" Arthur asked, stepping from the shadows to approach the snake as well.

"She's talking about theDaboia," Lau explained. "It's a highly venomous species of snake, well-known in Asia for its irritable nature. Calm down, Ran Mao." He placed a reassuring hand on the young woman's slender hip and pulled her close. "Mr. Sebastian clearly has things under control."

"A Black Mamba skin and now a Daboia," Abberline growled. "Our killer is quite the fan of rare and dangerous creatures."

"You'll have plenty of time to ask him once you've caught him," Ciel said sharply, cutting off a conversation he deemed pointless. "Don't waste time, you know the plan. The snake will lead you to its master. Once you've captured the killer, lock him in the cellar until we can hand him over to Scotland Yard. When you're done, join us in the drawing room."

"At your orders, Earl," Lau said. He leaned toward his lovely companion, whose waist he held lovingly, and whispered in her ear, "This evening is going to be most interesting, isn't it, Ran Mao?"

Grey let out a disdainful sigh and pushed off the wall to join the small group.

Sebastian glanced gently at his young master, who nodded slightly in response.

The snake was still swaying, its eyes fixed on thepungi. The butler slowly began to move down the corridor, following the serpent as it slithered smoothly ahead of him.

"Is it already on the killer's trail?" Abberline asked.

"Who knows? Let's follow and see where it leads us," Lau murmured.

The boy took one of the candles from the candelabra and handed it to Abberline, who lit another candelabra that had remained unlit until then.

"We mustn't turn on the lights to avoid being seen. Only the drawing room where the other guests are is illuminated."

He then handed the first candelabra to Lau, who joined the small procession following the butler down the dark corridor.

"See you later, Earl," he said with a slight wave of his hand.

Darkness quickly enveloped them as they moved away.

"Would you like to dress before we join the other guests, Earl?" Abberline asked the young man, who was still wearing nothing but his thin shirt.

Ciel inhaled sharply, pulled back into the grim reality of the place, and instinctively touched his clothing as if only now realizing how lightly dressed he was. He nodded toward Abberline, who went to fetch his clothes from the room. The music became less sharp, and the light from the candelabra disappeared completely.

Ciel felt a warm hand rest in the small of his back, burning his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. He looked up to see Arthur watching him with concern, no doubt searching the boy's eyes for a reason for his palpable anxiety.

The boy composed himself, his face hardening like marble. He pushed the hand away brusquely, as if the touch pained him.

"Charming..." Arthur muttered at the Earl's bitter rejection.

Ciel didn't respond, turning his gaze away from his lover's. Despite the gentle comfort of the man's touch, the boy didn't want to be touched. This was no time for tenderness or comfort; he needed his mind to be clear.

Arthur seemed hurt, almost angry, but before he could speak again, the inspector returned from the room.

"They'll come back safe, I'm sure of it," Abberline added as he handed Ciel a pair of trousers, a jacket, and boots that the butler had carefully laid out on a chair near the bed. The boy quickly put them on. "One against four. That should be easy."

Ciel closed his eyes, feeling his heart tighten. Would it really be easy? He had no certainty left.

Of course, he had ordered Sebastian to win. The demon could only succeed. Failure was not an option.

But he was up against a death god. Was a demon truly a match?

Oh yes, Sebastian had won the first time through trickery, by rendering the shinigami's weapon useless.

But Grell wouldn't be fooled a second time. He would protect his scythe. The reaper's weapon was powerful and deadly, far too dangerous for a demon.

Ciel remembered the terrible sound, the monstrous vibrations of the motor that spun the infernal saw, tearing through fabric, ripping through flesh. Behind his closed eyelids, Ciel recalled a cold London night and the rain that had dripped onto the black coat Sebastian had wrapped around him. He could still see the splashes of blood that had flown through the air, falling to the ground in great crimson pools. The blood... it was Sebastian's.

Ciel had never seen such an expression of pain on his demon's weary face. Sebastian stood before him, swaying, trembling, one hand gripping the shoulder where the blade had torn through.

A little while later, Madam Red lay at his feet, a gaping wound carved into her chest, her amaryllis-red hair soaked in her own blood and that which his butler had spilled.

Ciel recalled Grell tearing the beautiful red coat from the young woman's corpse and arrogantly draping it over his shoulders.

The boy clenched his fists. Was he wearing it tonight, that coat Madam Red had worn so well?

"Are you ready, Earl?" Abberline asked as the boy finished buttoning his blue jacket.

Taking a deep breath, Ciel inspected his appearance, smoothing out his suit. He had managed to make himself presentable without Sebastian's help—an achievement, no doubt, though he refused to admit it. But as he looked at his hands, he realized something was missing.

"My rings," the Earl murmured, heading back into the bedroom, followed by Abberline, who lit the way with his candles.

Ciel picked up the Phantomhive seal from the bedside table, sliding it onto his finger, then reached for the blue-stoned ring—the ring of his ancestors, which he had once retrieved from a pool of blood, the symbol of his vengeance.

Looking at it, the boy let out a low, nervous, consumed laugh. So much still lay ahead, so much remained to be done before this ring would witness his final breath.

He placed it on his thumb, feeling its weight not only on his hand but on his heart. Everything seemed absurdly sentimental. The path he had chosen was lined with deadly thorns. Blood would stain his hands, and more bodies would pile before his throne. And despite his growing pain and crushing losses, there was no longer any choice. His fate had been sealed three years ago, the day he decided to survive.

Could he now allow himself to worry about a demon—a vile and cruel creature?

Oh, how weak he was becoming. He despised himself for it.

Loving a beast? Not the Earl of Phantomhive.

Sebastian was by his side so he could fulfill his revenge, in exchange for his soul. Nothing more. He had promised the demon his death—those were the morbid terms of their contract.

To hell with human feelings and his need for forbidden caresses. Sebastian was his pawn. His knight. He would place him wherever he saw fit, no matter what happened to him. Why hesitate? He would feel no more pity for Sebastian than the demon would when it came time to take his soul.

He raised his ringed hand to his face, brushing his lips with his fingers. The taste of his demon still lingered on his mouth—bittersweet, unbearable, poisoned. And before him lay his own bed, its sheets disheveled where Sebastian had touched him and kissed him. He shuddered, disturbed by the shameful and exquisite texture of the memory, and placed his hand on his chest. Breathing felt difficult. These past days had given him the illusion of a happiness he had long abandoned, disguised in the sensual caresses of a man and the dishonorable revelation of a forbidden desire for a demon. He had no right to either.

No matter the outcome, his end would be tragic. Yet he had to decide what to do with the time he had left.

"Is everything alright, Earl?" Abberline asked, still standing behind him.

Ciel nodded softly without turning around, then climbed onto the bed, kneeling. He slid his hand under the pillow and grabbed the weapon hidden there.

Gripping it in his hand, he opened the chamber. It still held six bullets—a full load. He had never had to fire within his own home. He doubted the revolver would be of much use against the foes now haunting his manor. But he would fight to the end, and that was now his one unshakable certainty. He closed the chamber and tucked the gun behind him, securing it in his waistband.

"Let's go," the Earl said as he passed by the inspector. His voice was firm, cold.

Once in the hallway, Abberline handed the candelabra to Arthur and removed his coat, draping it over Ciel's head, bundling him up.

"With my coat on your shoulders, your scent will be less detectable by the snakes," the inspector explained gently.

Ciel was troubled by this sudden gesture of care, as it reminded him that Sebastian had once done the same for him. Without a word, he nodded, wanting to silence his heart.

"They're waiting for us," Abberline prompted, gently urging the Earl forward with a reassuring hand. "You coming, Arthur?"

But the writer, distracted, was staring into the shadows where the group had disappeared moments earlier.

"Go on," he finally said, grabbing one of the candles from the candelabra before handing it back to Frederick.

Ciel flinched involuntarily. What did he mean?

"You're not coming with us?" the Earl asked, shocked.

"No."

Corridors of the Manor

As they walked through the numerous corridors of the estate, Sebastian continued to play his musical instrument, making the snake zigzag in front of the small crowd, without really knowing where it was leading. He strained his ears, searching for unfamiliar sounds that didn't belong to the manor. Yet, he was almost certain that Snake had not entered the house, or at least not the main rooms.

The cellar, perhaps? Or the garden? He needed to get outside the castle. Bless the underworld, they were nearly at the main door. Sebastian hoped this charade would soon come to an end.

"That damned flute is splitting my ears!" Charles Grey growled.

Sebastian took a deep breath between two melodic measures. He loathed this pompous man. The demon had a premonition that the man dressed in white would become the source of threats he couldn't yet foresee. He watched Grey's upright posture and disdainful expression. Inside his young body, Grey harbored the desire to see the downfall of the Phantomhive Earl. Sebastian wondered what could have caused such animosity toward his young master, but the answer didn't matter much to him. If the Count became a threat, he would gladly crush his skull against a wall and tear out his blond locks.

A sound reached him from the floor above. He recognized Mei Rin's light footsteps. The young woman was hunting, searching for Grell on his behalf. Grell couldn't be far; yet, Sebastian still couldn't detect his presence. The shinigami was close, he was sure of it. Sutcliff wouldn't have let his new plaything come alone, and he certainly wouldn't have let him sneak into the manor where Sebastian could snap his neck at any moment. No, Snake was hiding, waiting, letting his reptiles carry out his vengeance.

Where was the young master? Sebastian strained his ears again. He thought he could hear the soft steps of Ciel in the corridors leading to his chambers. He wasn't in the drawing room with the other guests, a room where the air vents were sealed and where he would have been safe. Why wasn't he yet in a secure place?

Sebastian cursed himself silently. He should have taken Ciel with him. The boy wasn't safe with those two silver-tongued men. Despite all his manipulation skills, the young master had little power over such "well-meaning souls." And if Grell found him…

Undertaker's words echoed in his mind.

"But Grell Sutcliff doesn't care about the boy. What he truly wants is to hurt you. That's why he wants the Earl dead."

"During your encounter, he realized that the Earl mattered more to you than your own life."

More than his own life? That much was obvious. It was in their contract. By the cursed terms, Sebastian was bound to protect his master, no matter the cost, for his body and soul belonged to Ciel. That was the contract—everything was in the contract, nothing more.

Sebastian remembered his confrontation with Grell and Ciel's hesitation. And of course, Madam Red.

He had been trapped against the wall, the rough, cold stone scraping his back, the blade of Grell's demonic scythe in his hands, just inches from his skin. And Ciel hadn't moved. He had called out to him, but Ciel hadn't moved. And that woman, that woman who strangled him, squeezing his tender throat, brandishing her dagger.

A sudden pain had ignited his chest, carving deep into the chasm of his heart. A sudden, brutal fear had seized him, so unbearable that he had allowed the shinigami's blade to sever his arm. But the boy had stopped him, asking for his aunt's life.

Why hadn't he shot? Why had he refused Arthur's death?

He hesitates..., Sebastian thought, closing his eyes. He hesitates, and that's dangerous. It's when he hesitates that I could lose him.

"Losing Ciel" was, of course, unthinkable given his demonic aesthetic values. But the idea was also... unbearable, almost suffocating.

Clearing his mind, Sebastian wiped away all unnecessary thoughts and focused his hearing. A rustling of leaves, murmurs from the guests below, a night bird crying out in the gardens, the heartbeat of his master...

Suddenly, a louder sound caught his attention: hissing—multiple hisses. A gathering of snakes, and a human breath... coming from the greenhouse. The greenhouse! So that's where Snake had taken refuge.

He motioned toward the front door, and Ran Mao hurried to open it. The cool, damp garden air flowed into the manor, easing the oppressive scent of incense.

As they stepped outside the castle, Sebastian maneuvered the snake toward the glass building and decided that the charade had gone on long enough. He threw the flute to the ground—he'd played enough, the real fight was about to begin.

"He's in the greenhouse."

The snake, freed from its musical prison, hissed furiously, and Sebastian crushed its head beneath his heel, which exploded with a sharp crack.

Manor Corridor, 2nd Floor

The young woman dressed in black wandered through a dark hallway. She glanced out the window and saw the butler heading towards the glasshouse.

"Mr. Sebastian is going to the greenhouse," she murmured, sliding her gloved fingers across the cold glass. "So that's not where our mouse is."

Finni appeared then, nearly running to meet her.

"Nothing," the boy affirmed with a shrug.

"Nothing in the cellars or basement either," added Bard, arriving just behind him. "Only the roof remains."

Mei Rin nodded, pushed her glasses up onto her forehead, and opened the window. She climbed onto the ledge, gauging the height and the distance to the roof. Bard climbed up as well, crouching on the edge and lacing his fingers to give her a boost. She placed her foot on his shoulders and allowed the former soldier to lift her.

"Good luck, Mei Rin," she heard Bard whisper as she reached the cornice and pulled herself onto the roof.

In the pitch-black night, the young woman began her hunt atop the roof of the Phantomhive Manor.

Manor Corridor, 1st Floor

"Pardon?" Ciel asked, sizing up the young writer who was looking at him with arrogance.

"You heard perfectly well, Earl," Arthur replied calmly. "I won't be joining you in the drawing room. There are still questions I have no answers to, and I don't intend to miss out on the clues that could be found during the investigation I'm starting now."

Betrayed, Ciel felt a surge of rage. How could this man be so obstinate in such a perilous moment, when their lives were at risk?

"You can't be serious…"

"Frederick," Arthur said, turning to his friend, who stood perplexed beside the young Earl, who appeared outraged at being so casually dismissed. "You should escort the Earl to the drawing room where he's expected. I'll join you a little later."

Initially confused, Abberline nodded and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, but Ciel couldn't take his eyes off the young doctor.

"Come along, Earl," Abberline insisted.

"Don't touch me!" the boy shouted, roughly pushing the inspector's hand away. The coat slipped from his shoulders and fell to the floor. He stared at his lover, nearly trembling with fury.

"You're making a grave mistake, Arthur," he growled, his tone threatening despite his fragile appearance.

"It wouldn't be the first," the writer replied with a smile, placing a hand over his heart, where Sebastian had hurt him.

"Inspector Abberline," Ciel said in an authoritative tone, "Return to the drawing room."

The officer made a move to object, but the young Earl continued in an even voice:

"That's an order from the Queen's Watchdog. I believe neither Her Majesty nor Lord Randall would appreciate it if you caused an arrest to fail by disobeying!"

"And what about you, Earl?" Abberline asked after a brief hesitation.
"I'll handle reasoning with our friend."

Abberline frowned and clenched his fists, clearly frustrated with how things were unfolding. Stifling a sigh of discontent, he grabbed his coat from the floor.
"I hope one of you knows what you're doing," he grumbled, before walking off alone toward the drawing room.

The two lovers remained alone in the dark corridor. Ciel watched as Arthur lit a storm lantern, a portable oil lamp, shielding the flame with the candle he had taken.

"You had it all planned," Ciel remarked, shaking his head slightly, disillusioned, silently cursing himself for not foreseeing the writer's behavior.

"Not really," Arthur replied, gently adjusting the height of the flame with the pin. "I asked your gardener to bring it to me as soon as we left your room. I didn't know yet what I planned to do, but I thought I might need it if I were to explore the manor alone."

"What can I say to make you follow me?" the boy suddenly asked.

"You won't change my mind."

"You don't know what you're risking, Arthur."

"Oh! You're afraid I'll die?" he inquired with a charming smile.

"I'm afraid you'll act foolishly, ruin the plan, and someone will get hurt because you refused to obey."

"When you say 'someone,' you mean Sebastian, don't you?"

Ciel grimaced and turned away, unwilling to respond.

Sebastian… Yes, it was for Sebastian that he was afraid. He had to quickly get to safety so Grell wouldn't find him, allowing the demon to face the fight without the Earl being a burden.
But he couldn't abandon the writer, risking that he might encounter the shinigami.

For a moment, he thought about what Grell might do to Arthur. He could see the shinigami's scythe piercing his chest, skewering him effortlessly. He imagined Grell watching the cinematic record of his lover's life as it played, while Arthur's life faded from his body, savoring the images of his memories and his existence, relishing the intimate moments when Arthur had touched, kissed, and loved him. He could clearly see the murderer of his aunt giggling with pleasure and pride as he shredded the man who had brought him ecstasy, delighting in the images of Ciel moaning in pleasure.

The boy suddenly felt the urge to vomit, curling in on himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his body to shield himself from the horrific images flashing through his mind. He couldn't bear it. Arthur could not face him.

He lifted his eyes to the young writer, who was still watching him, surprised by the sudden fragility the Earl was showing. Initially ashamed, the boy decided to use it to his advantage.

"You don't want to go to the drawing room," he said softly, approaching.

Arthur remained still, silently observing the young man advancing toward him. The Earl reached out and took his hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Then stay here, with me."

He brought the man's fingers to his soft lips, tenderly kissing his knuckles. Arthur pulled his hand away, only to place it on the boy's hip, pushing him back against the wall. Ciel held his breath as Arthur pressed his body against his, trapping him against the wall, enveloping him in warmth. The boy raised his hands to Arthur's face, caressing his cheeks, running his fingers through his black hair, holding his feverish gaze. Slowly, he drew the man closer, tilting his face up towards his, offering his lips. And without resistance, Arthur kissed him, their tongues intertwining, the man's hands devouring his body in a familiar embrace.
Ciel finally broke the kiss, catching his breath while Arthur rested his forehead gently against his.

"Are you staying?" Ciel asked in a breathy whisper, trying to lead him toward the door of his bedroom, toward his already disheveled bed.

Arthur smiled, placed another kiss on his lips, and murmured against his skin:

"No, thank you."

Surprised and furious, Ciel slapped both hands against his lover's chest, shoving him away violently, humiliated.

"Idiot!" he spat.

Arthur laughed at the Earl's red face, flushed with anger.

"To go so far as to ask me to sleep with you just to stop me from leaving… You really do intrigue me."

But his smile quickly faded, replaced by a look of disgust and sadness.

"Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I'm that weak? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but neither my love nor my desire for you has made me a fool."

It was Ciel's turn to laugh, a sad, disenchanted, and melancholic laugh.

"A fool? No, I never thought you were a fool. But I underestimated you. I underestimated you too much."

Ciel bit his lip, still swollen and red from the kiss.

"Alright," the boy murmured, raising his hands as if to reason with the young man while also calming his own anger. "You don't need to do this. If you want answers, I'll give them to you."

"You'll lie to me."

Before the Earl could contradict him, Arthur added:

"I have to know, Ciel! I have no choice, you understand that? I don't have a choice."

"Oh, I understand! I know what it's like to have no choice! You're the one who doesn't realize that you have what I'll never have again! A future and free will! You have a family, a life, talent, everything I've lost! Why are you so determined to throw it all away?"

"Because of you!"

Ciel froze, trembling, and Arthur continued:

"Is it my fault that the world has changed color, that what I once thought impossible is now within my reach, as close to me as the warmth of your arms? Do you think I can forget the moments I've lived in this manor? No, I've seen things here. And I want to know if I imagined them or if they're real. I want to know if I'm going mad. I want the truth!"

"Your precious truth!" Ciel spat, beside himself with anger. "It won't give you anything. If you go, he will kill you, that murderer you're so eager to meet. You don't know what he is! He'll gut you just to hurt me, he'll take your life as easily as if you were an insect. And he'll love watching you die! He'll love seeing all your memories, your pain, and he'll find it exhilarating!"

"How could he see my memories?" Arthur asked slowly.

Ciel fell silent. He had said too much. Each of his words only fed the writer's romantic passion. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He suddenly wondered how long he and Arthur had been arguing in this corridor and realized, with sadness, that the battle was lost.

At some point during the game, the piece had left the chessboard, and he realized with bitter clarity that it was no longer his pawn. He couldn't control Arthur.

"You won't back down," Ciel murmured, not asking a question. He felt tired, melancholic, but despite the weakness weighing on his heart, he had to act.

Suddenly, he reached behind his back, under his jacket, and pulled out the gun, cocked it, and pointed it at Arthur.
The man froze, his gaze moving from the weapon to the boy aiming it at him.

"We gave you so many chances. I wanted you to live!" Ciel said, and it seemed his voice trembled. "But you leave me no choice because you refuse to follow the rules I set, Arthur!"

"I don't have to follow your rules, I'm not your pawn. This isn't a game!"

"Oh, but it is a game. A grand and magnificent game of chess."
Ciel breathed in softly, feverish, and murmured in a whisper: "And you no longer have a place in it."
His finger rested on the trigger, his arm trembling, but now he couldn't back down.

To his great surprise, Arthur stepped toward him, facing the gun. Ciel stopped breathing, and his chest ached as if it were wrapped in thorns. Through his blurry vision, he saw Arthur grab the barrel of the gun and place it over his heart.

"Go on," he murmured. "Shoot!"

The Manor's Greenhouse

They flung open the door to the greenhouse. The dim light of the chandelier reflected off the glass, where the shadows of the plants seemed like threatening claws. Nothing. Not a sound. Not a breath.

Lau and his companion were the first to enter, followed by Charles Grey, his sword held ready. Ran Mao walked slightly ahead of her master, protecting him with her body while brandishing two short sabers. Sebastian remained at the entrance, scanning the dark glasshouse with his piercing gaze.

Suddenly, a snake lunged from the shadows. Ran Mao pulled Lau aside to avoid the venomous fangs, just as Charles Grey sliced the serpent's head off with one stroke of his sword. As they stared at the still reptile lying in a pool of blood, a cold voice echoed from the darkness.

"You killed Emily. You'll pay for that," Oscar said.

The hissing of snakes, dozens of them, filled the room, surrounding them. The group stood back to back, ready to fend off an attack, but it didn't come.

A man appeared before them. The killer, finally revealed! A young face, his skin resembling the scales of the snakes that lovingly coiled around his neck, arms, and legs.

"So you're the monster haunting the estate?" Grey sneered, pointing his sword at him.

"Despite appearances, my lord, I am not the monster," Keats replied.

Ran Mao charged at the boy, who retreated as his snakes struck. The young woman narrowly dodged the fangs of a terrifying black mamba, while another wrapped its tail around her slender neck, threatening to strangle her. Lau drove a long needle into the snake's head, killing it, and freed the young woman, who swiftly engaged the other serpents slithering toward their legs.

Charles Grey swung his blade at the reptiles as he advanced toward the man commanding them. Sweat began to bead on the man's forehead as the count approached him. He tried to retreat, disappearing behind the plants, crouching low to escape the eyes of his pursuers as they battled the snakes. He needed to reach the door, to find the shinigami.

Cold air brushed against his cheek through the leaves of the weeping fig that concealed him. The entrance wasn't far. One last effort, a quick dash, and he'd be free. He took a deep breath and emerged from his hiding place, rushing toward the open glass doors.

But just as he was about to reach them, a heavy blow struck the base of his skull, and he collapsed to the ground. He caught a glimpse of a shadow in a tailcoat, and then everything went dark.

Snake opened his eyes with difficulty, but he couldn't see. His head throbbed painfully. His wrists ached. Colors appeared, blurry. Voices surrounded him. He tried to move, but it was impossible—chains bound him. His vision slowly returned, and he finally saw the men who held him at their mercy.

He recognized Black, busy tying each snake and locking them in the wooden crates scattered around the greenhouse.

"It seems our guest has regained consciousness," he heard someone say. He remembered the voice of the man in loose blue clothes, the Chinese.
"The shinigami will have your hide, demon. Or at least your master's," Shakes—or Snake—murmured, his gaze gleaming with murderous malice. His voice was low, and he thought he tasted his own blood in his mouth.

Sebastian smiled and approached the young boy. He knelt and leaned in to whisper in his ear, his hair brushing against Snake's reptilian skin.

"You should hold your serpent tongue, unless you want me to rip it out."

A sharp pain flared at the back of his head, and once again, everything went black.

Sebastian gazed at Snake's unconscious body lying on the floor. It was better to keep him asleep. The butler had no desire to endure the vile threats of their unexpected guest, nor did he want anyone else to hear them. It was time to leave. He approached the Chinese man, who was wiping the blood of the snakes from his long needles with white cloths.

"Lau, I need you to take care of our surprise guest," he said, earning an amused, intrigued smile from his companion. "I fear he might talk too much. Especially to Charles Grey. He could say things that might be dangerous for the young master."

"You're leaving?" Lau asked, his tone feigning surprise.

"An urgent matter."

"I had a feeling your logic had some flaws, but knowing you, those inconsistencies must hide some admirable mysteries." Lau wiped his sharp needle again and, looking at it, murmured, "Go in peace. He won't speak."

The butler gave a slight bow and quickly left the greenhouse, his instincts sharp, searching for the true threat.

Phantomhive Manor Rooftops

Despite the dark clouds filling the sky on this grim night, the full moon managed to break through the darkness and illuminate the earth. Mei Rin took advantage of these fleeting, blessed moments of light to scan her new hunting ground. Dressed in a black bodysuit, with twin pistols strapped to holsters wrapped around her thighs, the young woman ran across the rooftops, climbed the steep slopes of tiles, and hid behind chimneys.

"Where are you, little mouse?" she murmured as she slid down a slope to land on the north wing of the castle, at the center of the manor. "Where are you in your fine red coat? Where are you hiding in the night?"

She had been searching for almost an hour now, and still no sign, no trace of the mysterious killer. She lifted her gaze to the sky. The clouds were gathering again. It would rain soon. The air was thick, the dampness from the ground rising into the atmosphere, making it more oppressive, and the wind sent chills through her. No matter! She couldn't fail. It was her duty as a servant of the Phantomhive family. She had to protect the manor, protect the Young Master.

Just as she was about to turn back and start her patrol over again, she spotted a dark figure sitting on one of the chimneys of the east wing. She crouched down, hiding behind the slope of a roof. Lying flat against the cold tiles to avoid being seen, she squinted.

It was a man, a man with long red hair. He wore an elegant three-piece suit, and his collar was fastened with a purple ribbon. Beside him, leaning against the brick chimney, rested a strange instrument. It looked like a weapon ordered by Bard from his homeland, a sort of oval saw, particularly sharp. The man was gently stroking the device with his gloved hand, staring off into the distance, in the direction of the greenhouse.

Despite the glasses across his face, there was something familiar about him, but Mei Rin couldn't quite recall where she had seen this face before. A memory of a clumsy, timid servant, perhaps? She couldn't remember.

But that red coat, immaculate, with perfect stitching... Yes, a perfect outfit once worn by Madame Red.

This was indeed the killer Sebastian had been looking for. Sliding across the roof, she crawled silently to the edge. The window below had been left open.

"Bard, Bard..." she murmured.

The blond-headed servant poked his head through the window, a smoking cigarette butt clamped between his lips.

"He's here!" the young woman said, pointing out the intruder's hiding spot. "Go get Sebastian."

Bard nodded and disappeared. Mei Rin raised herself slightly and quietly returned to her observation post. She lifted her head and looked into the distance... but the man was gone!

"Where did he go?" she muttered through clenched teeth, her hand moving toward her pistol.

A mocking voice answered her:

"Behind you…!"

End of Chapter 9

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Author's Notes:

Will Mei Rin survive? Will Ciel pull the trigger?

Will Sebastian arrive in time? What will Lau do to Snake…?

You have the option to vote for each possibility on your device… no, no, I'm kidding!

Seriously though, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you'll forgive me for the long, long wait.

And yes, I thought of the revolver while watching one of the latest chapters of the manga. I find Ciel absolutely adorable when he's armed. But this time, it's the same weapon he pointed at Sebastian in chapter 14.

As for Lau looking at Ciel's bare legs, it's because, for me… he has a rather ambiguous gaze towards the young boy. I think Lau is a really fascinating character, and I would love to give him more space in the story. However, he's one of the rare characters in Kuroshitsuji that I just don't fully understand!

The oil lamp, especially the storm lamp, was invented in the 1850s, which made me quite happy because I was getting tired of seeing them always carrying chandeliers. Finally, a cool 19th-century lamp!

I really enjoyed getting into Mei Rin's character a little more!

As for Grell… I'm showing him in a darker light, making him a true psychopath, whereas (let's be honest), we all love Grell… because we see him as a potential future ally of Sebastian and Ciel, just like in the anime. But from Ciel's perspective in the manga, he's probably one of the worst characters he's encountered and the only being Sebastian hasn't completely defeated. In chapter 56 of the manga, which is about to come out, I believe the meeting between Grell and Ciel will be difficult for the young boy. According to Yana Toboso, Grell is really one of the most powerful Shinigami that exist. So, I believe that when his scythe is fully functional, a demon could lose…

Hmm, I think that's all…