Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji.

"When choosing between two evils, I always like to try the one I've never tried before."

~ Mae West

The blood stung his eyes and dripped from the tips of his fingers.

"We have done it!" exclaimed the masks in awed whispers. "We have done it. He is here."

There were black feathers in the air, and Ciel could feel himself dying.

The masked figures surrounding him were no more than blurred illusions to him now. He wasn't sure they had ever existed in the first place. The time between each of his desperate, pained heartbeats was getting longer and longer.

A feather, iridescently black, drifted down next to his face. Ciel couldn't blink the blood out of his eyes.

Click. Click. Came the sound of heels like the talons of a bird on the marble floor. They drew very near, and stopped. A dark figure loomed high above him, filling his vision.

Ciel was not afraid of it. He was not afraid of anything.

"He is yours," said one of the masks.

"Mine?" answered an unfamiliar voice, deep and rich with humor.

I am not, thought Ciel. He would have screamed it if he could. I am not, I am not. Drop by drop his blood trailed down his arms and fell from his fingers.

Clawed fingers worked their way through the tangles of his hair, scraping against his skin and bloodying his scalp. Warmth pooled crimson beneath his head and dripped into his ears.

And then, very suddenly, he was alone with the thing. It circled Ciel and shifted through the shadows and smiled at him from the corners of his eyes.

"They believe they have summoned me," intoned the voice, utterly carefree. "But they are wrong. It took me a moment to realize. You have summoned me, and that is unchangeable and undeniable."

The blood stung Ciel's eyes and dripped from the tips of his fingers.

Just out of sight, the thing lifted Ciel's hand and began to lick the blood from it, its tongue lapping carefully in between his fingers.

"What are you doing?" Ciel demanded aloud, his voice thin and laced with pain.

"Sampling," said the thing, and it stopped, but did not let go of his hand. Instead, Ciel felt a larger hand move to cover his own. The thing, close behind him, enclosed their hands into a fist.

"You are very small," it said over his shoulder, lightly scornful.

"I'm ten," Ciel told it, and winced.

"Do you believe in God, little one?" it asked, its voice as sweet as nighttime in spring.

Ciel swallowed, and his throat was thick with blood.

"Would someone who believed in God summon anything like you?" he asked, full of hatred.

The thing released his hand and stood apart from him. Ciel could feel its penetrating curiosity as it regarded him.

"That does not answer my question," the thing said. "But it will do for a start." It drew closer to him. "Tell me, boy – do you want to live?"

The blood stung Ciel's eyes and dripped from the tips of his fingers.

"Yes," said Ciel, something in his chest overwhelming his pain. "Yes."

"Why?" asked the thing, circling nearer like a bird of prey, its voice growing eager.

"Revenge," Ciel's voice tore from his throat. His heart smoldered in his need for revenge.

"Revenge…" echoed the thing, with interest.

Ciel blinked, and the thing stepped out from the corners of his eyes, allowing Ciel to look straight into its face. He had a vague notion of having gained its approval, and therefore having earned the gift and curse of seeing…

Seeing…

A butler.

The thing was a butler.

Young and smiling and dressed in black, with eyes the color of red wine and magic, brushing feathers from his sleeves.

"I am at your service, should you wish it so," the butler said with a slight bow. "But will you be able to afford my wages?"

"I'm rich," Ciel told him.

"You certainly are," agreed the butler, and Ciel had an odd suspicion that he wasn't referring to money.

"Whatever you want – I'll give you whatever you want, if you'll help me," rasped Ciel.

"You are very rash, little one. If you accept my help, you will never get to heaven," the butler warned. "You will never be welcome through those shining golden gates."

"Will you?" asked Ciel.

"No," the butler shook his head with a smile. "I won't ever be welcome there."

"Do you care?" asked Ciel.

He seemed to have taken the butler by surprise. "I don't suppose I do, really," the butler answered.

"Then why should I?"

This made the butler laugh. He had a very pleasant laugh. It made Ciel's pain all the harsher.

"It hurts," he bit out, revealing, for the first time, his desperation. "If you can help me than help me. I don't care what it costs, I'll pay it, I swear!"

The blood stung his eyes and dripped from the tips of his fingers. Then the butler approached him, and reached out to gently wipe the blood from his eyes with a soft, clean handkerchief. Ciel had never expected to feel anything so gentle ever again.

There were black feathers in the air, and Ciel knew that he was no longer dying.

"Shall we form a contract?" asked the demon, as Ciel had known what he was from his laughter and the feather-light gentleness of his touch. "All I want in return is your soul," he said.

"Souls? I'll get you as many as you want," said Ciel, who would not believe in souls again for a long time.

The demon shook his head. "Very clever, little one," he said. "But I will only accept one soul, and I'm afraid it must be yours."

"Fine – very well. What are you waiting for? Do we have a contract?"

The butler slipped off his left glove, and Ciel's right eye sparked and glowed as something was etched permanently into his mind. "We have a contract," said the demon, showing his young new employer the strange five-pointed star on the back of his hand. "We will go over terms and conditions a little later, since, if I'm not mistaken… and I so rarely ever am…" the butler showed his fangs. "There is something you would have me do, just now."

Ciel, breathing heavily, felt the last of who he had been a month ago dissolve away with the rights to his soul. "Kill them," he said.

And the butler did. Viciously, with his claws and his teeth and creative use of the branding iron that was still smoking hot. Ciel was very impressed, though he did not say so.

And now there was blood everywhere; more than Ciel had ever imagined. It was all over his new butler, and all over him.

It stung his eyes and dripped from the tips of his fingers.

A/N: While re-reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, I suddenly got the urge to write Kuroshitsuji fan fiction. Go figure. :) I skipped class to write it…

I hope this means my writers block is gone.