Kuroshitsuji Fan Fiction ❯ RAVEN ❯ Chapter 2

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Part Two

The boy awoke on the stone bench and stretched. Black wings unfurled from his back and a feathered raven's tail spread out from the base of his spine. He stared at his extra limbs with more than a little surprise. Completely unbothered by his nudity, he sat up and fingered the long feathers of his wings. His gaze focused on the remains of the burned-out mansion visible through the mist shrouded trees. Memory intruded, but it was scattered and disjointed. He knew this place, this island. He distinctly remembered that he'd come here to die, but not exactly why. However... "I'm not dead?" His voice was oddly creaky and weak.

A cultured and amused voice spilled from the shadows. "The boy you remember is indeed dead."

The winged boy looked around sharply, but couldn't pinpoint where the voice was coming from. "Am I a ghost?" he couldn't possibly be an angel, not with black wings.

"No." A tall slender and familiar man wearing an immaculate dark suit with a tailed coat drifted from the deep shadows with incredible grace. The man's eyes were the color of old blood and his smile was mild, yet seemed to hold a trace of slyness.

No, wait... This was no man. This was a demon, though how he knew that was beyond him. The boy frowned deeply, struggling to put a name to the creature before him, but his memory just wouldn't supply it. He shook his head hard, hoping to jog something loose, but absolutely nothing came to mind. However, that wasn't important at the moment. "If I'm dead, but not a ghost, then what am I?"

"A demon."

The boy's eyes widened. "How is that possible? I didn't think a human could become a demon."

"Correct. A human cannot become a demon." Between one second and the next, the demon closed in on him to kneel directly before him. He lifted a slender hand and pressed a long nailed finger to the boy's bare chest. "This body is not human."

The boy snorted. "The wings and tail made that rather obvious."

The demon chuckled. "Shall I dress you?"

The boy blinked. As though some button in his memory had been pushed, he stood up and lifted his chin. "Proceed." Even as he did so, he couldn't help but note that something was missing from the way the demon addressed him.

The demon reached for the clothes the boy had been sleeping on. He lifted a white silk shirt and slid it onto the boy's arms. The back of it opened downward at both shoulders, clearly meant to allow for the wings, with buttons to close the openings. The hemming was painstakingly neat and the buttons a perfect match to those down the front. The same had been done to the black velvet vest. The underpants had an opening at the back to allow for the feathered tail, as did the short pants. The demon set the suspenders so perfectly they didn't rub against the root of his wings. The blue velvet, double-breasted jacket was cut and buttoned the same way as the vest. He tied the boy's neck cloth into a decorative bow then gathered the boy's long hair and tied it back with a black ribbon.

The boy sat on the bench to allow the demon to put on his stockings and fasten his garters. However, when he lifted his foot, he noticed that his over-long toes were tipped in curving black claws. "I don't think my shoes will fit."

The demon cupped the slim pale foot in his palm and slid a finger under one of the curving claws. "It would be best to forego shoes and stocking for now." He looked up at the boy with eyes the color of blood. "Shoes would only make landing on anything but flat ground difficult."

The boy frowned. "Landing...?"

The demon reached out to stroke one of the boy's black wings. "What goes up—" He smiled mildly. "Must eventually come down." Black smoke appeared around the demon, and with a loud rustle, black wings and tail unfurled behind him. "Shall we begin?" His arms closed tight around the boy's chest. With a hard jump, he launched both of them into the sky.

The island below became very small very fast.

The demon pressed his lips to the boy's ear. "Aim for the island or it will be a very long swim for you."

The boy turned sharply to look at the demon that held him. "Swim?"

The demon grinned with serrated teeth and dropped him.

The boy screeched and threw his arms out. His wings unfurled at his back and his tail snapped open. His plummet abruptly turned into a glide. He blinked into the wind. He could fly? He very quickly learned that trying to control his wings or tail was a bad idea. If he tried to direct them in any way, his wings went out of rhythm and he spun like crazy or dropped like a stone. However, merely leaning into the direction he wanted to go was more than enough to direct his flight. Apparently, his wings and tail knew what to do all by themselves.

It was thrilling and wonderful. He dove and soared, arms out and laughing in sheer joy. Unfortunately, he couldn't keep it up for long. His wings tired far too quickly, his shoulders and spine aching with the strain. With his eye on the island, he glided downward a wide spiral aiming for the island's only clearing, the overgrown garden.

Unfortunately, he didn't quite know how to slow down enough and overshot the clearing. He rammed shoulder first into a tree and dropped two stories to the grass below. He opened his eyes with his back against the tree to find that a branch had pierced him through the shoulder. That was in addition to his knee which had turned wrong and popped out of joint. It hurt like hell. He couldn't stop the whimper or the tears.

The dark clad demon appeared at his side, a trace of amusement curving his lips. "Straighten your leg and pull the branch out."

The boy shoved his knee back the right way, which hurt like hell. He then lifted his opposite hand and grabbed hold of the branch. That hurt a lot. A small whimper escaped his lips. He sucked in a deep breath and yanked, ripping the branch out of his body with one pull. It hurt so much he screamed. Blackness spilled down his chest. The sight caused him a moment of pause. He clapped a hand on his wound then pulled his hand away to stare at the blackness that smeared his palm. "I bleed black?"

The demon at his side folded his arms and snorted. "Living things bleed red. You are not. You are a demon."

The boy pressed his hand back on the wound and closed his eyes. He was so tired.

The demon dropped to one knee before him. "Do not close your eyes!"

The boy's eyes snapped open.

The demon nodded. "Now, remember what it felt like to be whole and without pain."

The boy stared at him. Was he out of his mind?

The demon's eyes narrowed glowed yellow. "Do it!"

The boy clenched his teeth in anger, but worked to recall the memory. The pain in his knee and his shoulder faded. He pressed a hand to his shoulder and quite literally felt the wound under it pull together and disappear. "Oh...!"

The demon smiled and the gold faded from his blood-colored eyes. "Good. Now, remember what your clothes were like, whole and clean."

The boy blinked. "I can do this with clothing?"

The demon nodded. "As long as you are wearing them."

The boy lifted one brow. "Is that how you always managed to look perfect, no matter the circumstances?"

The demon's smile broadened. "Of course."

"Hmph." The boy frowned in concentration and watched as his clothing came back together, mending and cleaning itself until not one trace of his fall remained. He pressed a hand against the tree at his back and rose to his feet. His knees nearly buckled from exhaustion.

The demon caught him around the chest. "You need to rest. You only just came into existence."

The boy looked up at him and clutched the demon's supporting arm. "Why can't I remember your name?"

The demon smiled, briefly flashing serrated teeth. One black brow lifted. "Can you remember your own?"

"Of course, my name is..." Nothing came to mind. The boy frowned chasing after a memory that dangled just out of reach. "My name is..." His frown became a scowl. "Why can't I remember my name?"

The demon smirked. "Because you don't have one."

The boy struggled against the demon's hold with an utterly inhuman snarl. "I do! I know I do!"

"You do not." The demon urged the boy forward, away from the tree and back toward the bench the boy had awakened on. "You may have some of his memories, but you are not him." He leaned close, his lips a bare breath away from the boy's. "He was devoured."

The boy stiffened and a memory surfaced. It was hideous, full of pain and screaming while his soul was literally torn from his body piece by piece and consumed bite by bite -- by this man, this creature. His throat closed tight and cold terror spilled through him. His entire body shivered in horror. "I... I remember." It had happened on the very same bench he'd slept on. In fact, he was wearing the very same clothes.

The demon turned the boy to cup the boy's face in his clawed hands. "That one is gone, consumed. You are someone else, something else." His thumbs wiped at the tears tracking down the boy's cheeks. "You are my creation, my childe. You belong to me."

The boy angrily rubbed the tears from his cheeks. "Then why do I have these...his memories?"

The demon lifted a black brow. "Do you really want to know?"

The boy scowled and pulled back, freeing himself from the demon's grasp. "I asked, didn't I?"

The demon chuckled. "You also seem to have acquired his pride."

The boy narrowed his gaze. "Your point?"

The demon waved his hand. "Look on the other side of the bench."

Scowling in annoyance, the boy turned and walked around to the other side of the bench. On the ground was a scattering of bones, human bones and they were fresh. There were traces of wet flesh still attached to them along with gouges made from teeth. A head sat beside them, the severed neck seeping blood onto the flags. The top had been cut off and a spoon rested inside the empty hollow where the brain had once been housed. Neatly trimmed black hair still framed its wide-eyed familiar face, though one bright blue eye was missing.

He clearly remembered eating it all.

He dropped to his knees and retched though nothing came up. Even so, his stomach continued to heave not because of what, or rather who he'd eaten, but because he remembered the taste with such fondness that he knew nothing would ever match it.

He had eaten raw human flesh and wanted more.

The demon leaned against the stone bench and folded his arms. "By absorbing his body you acquired his form and memories, but you are a demon where he was merely human."

The boy looked up at the demon smiling down at him. "Where can I find a shovel?"

The demon blinked. "Why?"

The boy rose to his feet shaking with conflicting feelings and urges. "To give him a proper burial, why else?"

The demon's smile soured. "No need for that." He waved a hand.

The bones abruptly burst into blue-white flames.

Alarmed, the boy's wings flared out propelling him backwards and away from the searing heat.

In a matter of minutes, the bones, and the blue-eyed head had been utterly consumed and rendered to ash. A stray wind swept the ashes away leaving only a black scorch mark and a silver spoon where they had been.

Tears slid down the boy's cheeks.

The demon at his side frowned. "Why are you weeping? Is that pity?"

The boy looked up at the demon. "Is is so wrong to feel pity for such a cruel fate as obliteration? There's not one trace of him left to mark that he even existed."

"But there is." The demon knelt before him and smiled. "You were made in his image. As long as you exist, his suffering will never be forgotten."

The boy wiped his cheeks and smiled sourly. "So I am to be his tombstone?"

The demon stood up and pressed a palm to the boy's shoulder, urging him in the direction of the fallen house. "More like his funeral urn; the container that holds his remains."

The boy blew out a sigh. "Well, at least I have a purpose for existing."

The demon snorted. "I made you for more than merely that."

The boy looked up at the demon. "Oh?"

The demon brushed his fingers through the boy's long hair. "That is a story for another time. For now, you must rest and concentrate on growing stronger."

"Stronger?" A yawn abruptly took the demon childe.

The demon at his side nodded. "Of course. Eventually you will be summoned and you will need to serve your master to the fullest of your abilities. That could very well mean fighting other demons. Although, if you lose, you will merely return here to recover. That is what it means to be immortal."

The boy scowled. "I have no desire to be summoned."

The demon snorted. "None of us do, but that's our fate; to be summoned and then to devour the soul of the summoner at the end of their contract."

The demon childe turned to his sire. "What does a soul taste like?"

The demon smiled broadly showing the full length of his fangs. "That depends on how much anger and hate it contains." He leaned down to whisper against the childe's ear. "Yours was particularly exquisite."

The demon childe lifted one brow. "I thought you said I wasn't him?"

The demon straightened and nodded. "Your body isn't his, but your soul used to be."

Rattled, the boy tripped on nothing in particular. He stiffened his spine, determined not to give in to fear. He tugged on his coat hem for good measure. When he finally spoke, his voice was level and even held a trace of amusement. "Are you planning to eat me again?"

The demon smiled sweetly. "You won't die from it." He patted the boy's shoulder. "This body is immortal. After I digest all the anger and hate from it, I'll just put it back in." The demon stepped across the threshold of the ruined house, disappearing in the darkness.

Chilled to the bone, the boy trembled, but resolutely followed the demon into the darkness. "If that was supposed to be reassuring, you failed."

The demon smiled. "Did I?" He lifted his hands.

A wind whirled up around the burned and blackened walls of the house. Where it passed, dirt and debris evaporated. The scorching on the floor and walls disappeared. The stones lifted to go back to where they belonged and the shattered windows reformed whole and clean. The wallpaper restored itself to pristine newness. Paintings appeared on the walls, and vases appeared on tables that repaired themselves. The tall staircase restored itself from the ground up. Carpets appeared to cover the parquet floors. Candelabra appeared complete with lit candles. The massive chandelier overhead tinkled into existence to spill prismatic light.

The boy stared in awe. The house... His house was as it should be. He forcibly clamped down on his expression, schooling it to one of mild interest then faced the demon. "You still haven't told me your name."

The demon bowed his head with a slight smile. "You can call me, sire."

The boy frowned. "That's not a name."

The demon nodded. "No, but it is what I am to you." He set his hand on the boy's shoulder and urged him toward the master staircase. "A demon never tells his name, especially not to another demon. It gives them power over you." He leaned close. "Should you remember yours, I suggest you keep it a secret."

The boy frowned. "You already know my name."

"You would be wise to remember that." The demon winked at him.

The boy frowned, but climbed the stairs alongside the demon. At the top of the staircase, a flash of blue caught his attention. He lifted his hand and discovered a large square-cut blue diamond ring on his thumb.

The demon frowned at him, his clawed fingers biting into the boy's shoulder. "Where did you get that?"

The boy shrugged. "It just appeared."

The demon shook his head and smiled sourly. "Perhaps keeping this house was not such a good idea." He turned and strode purposely down the carpeted hall and turned into an open door.

The boy followed the demon, trotting to catch up. "I happen to like my house." He turned into the room and stopped cold. It was a bedroom, his bedroom. The view through the windows was different, but the room was undeniably one he had known all his life - or all his other life. Everything in it was painfully familiar from the curtained Jacobean tester bed to the gold-framed monocle sitting on the book on the bedside table.

The demon turned to smile at him with a nightshirt folded over his arm. "Shall we get you ready for bed?"

The scene was so familiar, the boy felt a name dancing on his tongue and parted his lips to say it. Nothing came out. He scowled fiercely then sighed in defeat. It would come, eventually. He strode into the room tugging at his neck cloth. "Proceed."

Sooner or later he would remember everything, including who had caused him to fall into such a fate. Then there'd be Hell to pay. After all, he was a demon.

~ End ~