Overall Warning (Entire Story) : AU, Rape, Dark Themes, Violence, BL, slight Bondage, Mature Themes, maybe some horror later on, probably some OOC-ness and my refusal to use proper dialogue grammar. (Stupid commas.)

What else do you expect from me? A happy-go-lucky where everyone lives happily ever after? Not in this lifetime, kid. The Angst Plot Bunnies like to rape my brain...I can't say that I mind though :3

So, with those warnings out of the way, you know what you are getting yourself into; don't blame me if this isn't your cup of Earl Grey.

Checkmate

Chapter One: Exposition

Chains clacked together as the room began increasingly filled with the strong scent of blood. Two figures were the only people occupying the dark, damp basement. The walls were covered with a variety of sharp, painful, dangerous instruments. As usual, there was a large table set up with some tools that had been taken down for the night's activities.

Two chains were nailed with steal bolts to the stone wall and there were handcuffs the end of the chains. Attached to the handcuffs was Sebastian. He head was bowed and his raven hair hide his bloodied face. There were dark purple bruises on his wrists and scars too. Sebastian suddenly threw his head back against the cold wall to reveal a face contorted with pain. His eyelids shot open to expose unnatural red eyes that were richer than any ruby.

The other inhabitant of the room slides out the sharp knife from Sebastian's torso. He gracefully moved to the table to clean off the knife. When he returned to his captive, he held in his hand another knife; however, this one was very blunt and dull. If Sebastian had less pride he would have pleaded and begged with his captor to use something sharper. But no, Sebastian of course had more pride than a rich, pompous prince. He knew that the knife would hurt more, but instead of crying and begging and trying to reason with the mad man, Sebastian simply hissed and gave a hoarse scream as the knife slowly punctured his lower torso.

The captor raised his mouth to Sebastian's ear. "You'll never get away, and you know that."

Sebastian only smirked and retorted, "Watch me."

With those words Sebastian then...—

Head, meet desk. Desk, meet brain damage.

Chapter 30, Page 665. It had been page 665 for the last hour. It was a road block and a head ache, and even worse, it was page six hundred and sixty five. He was utterly lost on what to do and how to write it.

Ciel Phantomhive sat staring at his laptop with his head now in his hands feeling as though his brain was about to explode. For the first time in his writing career, Ciel had writer's block, and it was the most horrible, mind numbing feeling. Ever.

It was unusual for the young author to have the dreaded writer's block; all his life Ciel had always been able to just sit down and write what ever he please. Of course, not all the ideas he deemed worthy enough to publish. Once and a while he came across a brilliant plot and Ciel was had always just started to write. Not this time though.

Ciel was almost finish writing the second instalment in his best selling series when he came across a block; and what a block it was! In short, the whole next book depended on Ciel's next choice—or rather the character's, Sebastian. Stupid Sebastian, Ciel thought.

He leaned back into his chair and peaked over at the corner of his screen to see that it was almost four in the afternoon; he had been working since eleven in the morning and produced about a page of writing. Perfect, his editors will practically jump out their seats with such enjoyment. The teal-haired adult rolled his eyes and could easily picture the two men—his sleazy publisher and fat, all business editor— throwing multiply items at the author and his "procrastination."

"What to do..." Ciel impatiently tapped his finger against the home row of the key board. He decided to re-read through the past chapter as to try and trigger a idea.

Now, Ciel Phantomhive was a famed horror and suspense author who had written countless books. His latest character, Sebastian was the main focus of his most popular book series.

Sebastian was a prideful character, much like Ciel. Sebastian in a way was what Ciel secretly wanted himself to be like; tall, strikingly handsome, a person who bowed to no one. Sebastian was also more than that. He was seductive and dark, but could turn to sweet at the drop of a hat. In truth, Sebastian was one of Ciel's most complex characters, having traits and motives that sometimes even his creator didn't understand. His overall personality could only be described as devilish.

Ciel himself was a little far off from Sebastian's personality; The young Phantomhive was smart but not athletic and didn't enjoy the roaring fan girls. He hated talking to strangers— or anyone in fact. He liked to keep to himself and write. That was his life.

A ring of his phone brought Ciel out of his reading. He lazily picked it up and put the phone on speaker. "Phantomhive."

"Ciel? You need to stop writing and get some fresh air!"

"Hello Aunt An."

Aunt An scoffed, "Come on dear, you need to get out of that stuffy apartment of yours!"

Ciel spun slowly in his chair, "It's not stuffy, it's just too small for your tastes."

"Never the less, don't make me come and get you."

"No. I need to stay here," Ciel monotonously said while staring at the wall.

"What is your reason this time?"

"665."

"Pardon?"

Ciel sighed, "Page 665, that's what I'm on."

Angelina Durless—or simply Aunt An as she preferred— was a very outgoing and talkative person, to put

it short. She was Ciel's mother's sister and the only living family the young adult had. (His parents had tragically died in an attempt to compromise the fate of the family company—said company now in the hands of Aunt An .)

"I don't care if you are on the brink of a genius plot or any other excuses you can come up with, Ciel. You need to get away from the damned computer! And you know what?—" Aunt An continued to lecture her nephew for another few minutes before the young adult finally had enough.

"Alright! I'll go on a vacation or something, happy?" Ciel rubbed his temples in defeat.

Aunt An sounded slightly disappointed, "I'm only happy if you are, my dear." Ciel felt a small pang of guilt wash over him at the tone of his aunts voice; she really did care about him...he could be so ignorant sometimes.

"I'll be happy when this damn book is finished and in stores," Ciel grumbled. "Stupid Sebastian, why'd you have to be captured again in the first place?"

"Ciel, I may only be you little old Aunt who knows nothing about how that brain of yours works, but I am a doctor, and my advice to you is that you need to stop thinking so much about this book and have, like you said, a vacation."

Ciel banged his head against the table and sighed, "You need to control your speech. Everything that you say is a run on sentence."

"Excuse me? Really Ciel, you need to get your head out of the technical world of writing."

"Right, sorry. I suppose it's just a habit." (If Ciel was so grammically correct, why did he need a annoying editor again? Ciel asked himself this too many times.)

The two conversed for a few minutes longer before Ciel (unwillingly) agreed to stay at his Aunt's newly renovated cabin located in the North-West area of Canada. The place was secluded and would deny Ciel the use of the internet and his cell; Aunt An said it would be the ideal place for a vacation. Within hours, Ciel was grudgingly packing his bags and heading to catch a late flight.

"Please fasten your seatbelts; Air Canada will be taking off in just a few minutes."

The teal-haired adult sat awkwardly by himself near the back of the small plane. Despite the first-class seating that was available for the writer, Ciel preferred to sit alone where he could focus without the attendants constantly asking him if he wanted anything, at least in the back they seemed to forget about him. The seats were modestly comfy enough that with his paper and pencil in hand, Ciel felt the need to go against Aunt An's threats and begin to write. However, whenever he would put is pencil on the paper to write, his entire mind would go blank.

The young adult stared out the window for the longest time, wondering why he was having so much trouble with this final arc in his novel. After a while, Ciel heard the loudspeaker suggesting that now would be a good time to sleep. Ciel did feel tired, but he was used to staying up so late to finish writing that he had soon became accustomed to pulling all-nighters. But even if he wanted to sleep he couldn't—or rather wouldn't.

The writer detested sleeping on planes; it just made him feel to vulnerable. What would happen if someone abducted him? Or stole his stuff? Or whatever obscene scenario he could imagine that could possible happen while he would be asleep; And thus, no napping for Ciel.

He hadn't noticed just how eerily quiet the plane had become until a young attendant tapped him on the shoulder. She had a pretty face, but Ciel couldn't help but feel like there was something off about her.

"Do you need anything, dear?" She smiled sweetly, but almost too sweetly. It was if she was trying to hide something. Ciel was at loss for words much to his confusement. He couldn't help but stare at eyes, and it was then that he realised what was different about her.

Her eyes didn't hold the same sweetness as her smile did, they looked dark and hazy, like she was mentally scrutinizing the younger. She brought her manicured nails up to stroke his tense arm, but her intentions seemed far from comforting.

"You look frightened...Is something wrong, dearie?"

(Is something wrong, Ciel? You look scared..." It smiled and traced a single finger down the young teen's bare torso. Ciel shivered and fidgeted nervously.

"No...stop..."

It looked confused, "Stop?" But 'it' wasn't 'it' anymore...it was the flight attendant, complete with red eyes and lips. "But we haven't even got to the good part...")

Ciel shut his eyes tightly to escape the memory. When he heard a soft voice calling out "dear" again, he flashed them open. He expected to find the deceiving girl perched above him, with a wicked look in her dark eyes. What he saw instead was a pretty young girl, with a worried look on her face and a concerned frown on her pink lips.

"Dear, are you okay?" She asked. "You looked scared."

"I...What is it that you want?" Ciel's voice wavered at first, but he quickly evened it and replied a little too sharply.

The girl looked taken aback by the other's tone, but shook it off and forced herself to put on another smile, "You should go to bed, it's probably past your bedtime, right?"

The young teal-haired boy was about the retort angrily saying that he was not a child, but stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted something on the pretty girls shoulder.

It was dark, thin and boney with long nails painted black. The hand was placed lazily on the shoulder, but no owner's arm could not be seen. He knew who the hand belonged to though: 'It.' The same hand that had defiled his innocence so many years girl didn't seem to notice, but the writer did. He saw the way It crept, the nails digging into thin fabric but not to break it.

The girl looked to where Ciel had his eyes widened at, her shoulder, and looked back at him with a bewildered look. She was obviously thinking that this boy was mentally disturbed or delusional.

Without another word, she turned around and walked away. Ciel didn't move a single muscle, still too confused. His mind buzzed with questions, when he finally pushed it off as his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe a good night sleep would do him well...At least before he completely was devoured by the madness of his delusional mind.

Chains clack together, the room's scent is filled with blood—old and new—and the overpowering smell of the unholiest of acts still lingers. A lone figure hangs from chains attached to the stone wall that had been previously painted with life fluid. The room is not well lit and the dangling figure has to adjust his eyes to see.

But it was not Sebastian who is hanging from the wall in this familiar scene, but an adult small enough to pass as a teen who struggles against his bindings.

Ciel looks around the basement, automatically recognizing it as the same room that Sebastian was tortured in—or at least what he pictured it to be.

A creaking noise echoes from atop of the stairs as a tall man slowly walks down the steps and makes his way towards Ciel.

"Who...Who are you?" Ciel yells, but finds his voice weaker than he would have preferred. "Let me down!"

The man stays silent much to Ciel's dismay, and moves over to a table covered with silk cloth.

"Hey! Listen to me!" Ciel began to feel his anxiety rising quicker from each passing second. The teal haired boy feels it spike dramatically and his stomach lurch when he sees exactly what is on the silk covered table; a large assortment of knifes ranging in length and sharpness.

The other man simply ignores Ciel and gingerly picks up two knifes: one with a sharp edge and the other with a curved tip. He walks to stand in front of the now shaking boy and holds up the two knifes. Ciel notices a sadistically playful look in his eyes and an equally dark smile. It seems to Ciel like his captor wants him to choice a knife.

But he can't find his voice.

The other takes shrugs and sets down the sharper knife. Ciel squirms and gives a frightened yelp as his captor twirls the knife by the handle and walks back to the dangling boy.

Ciel turns his head so that the cold stone cools his now heated body. He won't let himself cry, but this was too real...it couldn't be happening...not again!

Out of the corner of his eye, Ciel sees a pair of almost glowing scarlet eyes watching him from a dark corner. The body belonging to the eyes steps forward, but not to much that he would be seen by the other man in front of Ciel. He gives Ciel a devilish smirk and although there is quite a distance between the two, Ciel hears a sultry whisper in his ear.

"Prepare yourself, Little Kitten."

"Ciel!"

Ciel looked up from his note pad and at the woman with choppy red hair sitting across from him, "Hmm?"

Aunt An scoffed and focused back onto the road, her hands lightly grasping the steering wheel, "This is supposed to be a vacation for you."

"Sorry, I just had a strange dream on the plane," Ciel rested his elbow on the car door, "and I have to write it down so I don't forget. It might me useful later..."

She made a noise of disapproval, but continued to drive without speaking.

Ciel sighed, he knew his Aunt only wanted the best for him, but sometimes she could be too pushy. He was glad now was not one of those overbearing times.

"So, Ciel," Aunt An started after a few moments of awkward silence, "how is your book coming along?" Obviously, even if she wanted her nephew to take a break, she couldn't help but be sucked in the intriguing world of Ciel's imagination.

Ciel shrugged and said something along the lines of a 'meh' noise before turning to his aunt. "I don't know what to do. My editors want the story out by at least the end of the year and I'm nowhere done."

"I thought you said you were on one of the last chapters?"

"I am, but the outcome of the climax of the story depends on my next decision for the book, and that's what I'm stuck on. It just seems every time I go to write all my ideas go out the window."

"The climax is the best part, right?"

Ciel nodded, "There's eight basic parts to a story: the exposition, or introduction, the rising action, trigger incident, complication, crisis, climax, or the 'best part' of the story, and finally the denouement, or falling action. The last part is what will also lead into the next book—which I don't really want to write. Stupid money hungry editors."

Aunt An laughed at this, "Isn't everyone nowadays?"

"Basically. I should have limited this series to one book like I had wanted to."

"I heard that they are making a movie out of it, is this true?" Aunt An asked. She didn't know if her gossip blog had gotten the right 'dirt' on the subject so she thought it best to ask a direct source. "And who would you want to play the characters?"

Ciel actually laughed bitterly at this. "They want to. I don't know about it...sometimes movies ruin the books. Just look at Twilight—then again, the book wasn't so well written in the first place."

"But still, it won how many MTV awards?" Aunt An teased.

"How should I know? The one time I watched that channel two guys were doing something called the 'standing sixty-nine.' Regardless, those stupid sparkly vampires are overrated." Ciel couldn't help but think that the conversation was taking a rather ridiculous turn.

"So, I'm guessing your not a fan of Robert Paterson. My site says he is an option for Sebastian~!"

Ciel nearly choked. "Over my dead body!" Aunt An continued to laugh as she pulled into a gas station.

Once the window rolled down and the station employee came around, Ciel instantly stopped all social behaviour. He hated talking around people he didn't know...Just the thought of having some stranger being able to listen in on his conversations to get a picture of what he was talking about unnerved the young writer. The fact that Ciel didn't like—He was too prideful to say that he was afraid – talking to new people didn't help either, and it quickly earned him the media title of 'the decade's most unsocial writer."

"I'm going in to pay, do you want anything to drink, dear?" Aunt An asked while getting in her car and smiling at the gas attendant.

Ciel shook his head and gave a quick, nervous glance to the man pumping gas. The large man caught Ciel's eye and cocked his head.

"Hey, aint you that big shot writer that er'body is always talkin' bout?" The gas attendant asked. "Y'know that horror writer?"

Ciel froze up and stuttered; both embarrassed that he got caught staring and for having to talk to the stranger. "Y-yes..."

"Well damn, Whatchu doin up 'ere, eh?"

"I-I..uhm, I'm taking a break from w-writing."

"Oh, and how's yer boss takin' that? Don't he run you to the ground with work an' all, like all them big shots?" The man laughed, his oversized belly jiggling as he does. He's finished with Aunt An's gas and comes around to talk to Ciel, much to the younger's dismay.

"Err...they don't really k-know." Ciel wished his aunt would hurry up in the store, because the less conversation with the stranger the better. The attendant continued to laugh, completely ignoring Ciel's obvious uncomfortable state.

Finally, Aunt An returned with a bag filled with connivance store food. The attendant smiled at her and waved his good-byes. (As the red haired woman pulled away he cursed when he forgot to get the authors signature.)

In the car, Aunt An gave Ciel a concerned glance, "Ciel dear, are you alright?"

Ciel nodded, but continued to clutch the underside of his seat as they drove towards the cabin.

"So, how do you like it?"

"..."

"I know it's a bit...girly...but it does make a contrast to your home."

Ciel frowned and set his suitcase down on the floor. "It will do."

Aunt An smiled and fixed her hat before turning to leave. "I'll be back in a couple hours to check up on you before I go home. There phone line isn't hooked up yet, but someone should be coming over tomorrow to fix it."

"No phone? What if I need help?" Ciel asked while taking in the mass amount of flowers and pink decorated items that made up his Aunt's cottage. In truth, it wasn't that bad, but the young author nevertheless only wanted to be back home.

"There is a pay phone up thee road if you should need anything. Besides, it's only one night, you'll survive."

With that and a quick hug, Aunt An left the house, leaving Ciel alone to groan in defeat; This wasn't exactly his ideal vacation spot.

Ciel gave the front room of the cabin a brief overlook before moving to the bedroom down the hall. He absentmindedly wondered if the cabin had an attic or basement, but quickly pushed the idea out of his head; it was getting dark, and the young author was not willing to call his aunt like a child. He wouldn't let his fears get to him, he told himself, he was the boss of himself.

Ciel entered the bedroom and gave another groan; the bedroom was even worse that the rest of the damn cabin. The decorator obviously had a dying passion for flowers, all things pink and little wood birds that plagued the entire home.

It was the little things that annoyed Ciel. Like stupid flowers and tacky wood carvings of damn birds.

Regardless, Ciel threw his clothing messily into the dresser draws, but stopped before leaving. It wasn't as if the writer had anything better to do, so he folded his clothes nicely and arranged the draws accordingly. Once done the meaniless task, Ciel half considered redoing just for the hell of it. Instead, he went to fetch his other suitcases to see if there was anything he packed that could redecorate the room.

On his way down the hallway, Ciel finds that he had spent more time that he had originally thought. He had to feel his way down the dark hallway, silently cursing himself for not turning on any lights. Ciel didn't like it one bit, because the dark walls seemed to be closing in around him. He felt his heart miss a beat when his left hand didn't feel wall anymore.

Another hallway? He though. He hadn't remembered a second hallway coming up to his room, and know he didn't know exactly which one to take. Ciel darted his eyes when he heard a creak from the left hallway and he felt his body shake. He had to balance himself against the wall when he felt the unnerving darkness trying to consume him. His eyes refused to see anything other than black and he felt a cold surface on his back he turned his head and felt the object he was leaning against. The surface was smooth and the frame was elaborately designed, and helped him become distracted from whatever noise he had heard.

A flash of light had Ciel staring into his reflection of the mirror he had been previously feeling. The sudden light made Ciel jump and clutch the edge of the mirror to tightly, which caused him to cut his palm. A small amount of blood trickled from the light wound as Ciel hissed from pain. But, another creak broke Ciel away from the pain and Ciel nervously forced himself to investigate. The sound became louder as Ciel walked on floorboards that groaned in protest every step he took.

Finally, Ciel came to a door, his hands shook as he brought them up to the handle. Summing up all his courage, Ciel took a deep breath before flinging the door open and backed away. Thankfully, nothing jumped at him and Ciel stepped into the room.

It was a bedroom much like his, but instead had a deep red color on the walls and bedding. Ciel felt something tickling his ankle, and quickly jumped back. Much to the young writers bemusement, hundreds of black feathers adorned the floor and some even floated into the air as he walked.

A final creak was head, and Ciel snapped his head over to the bed, where the sound was being omitted. He cursed again for not bring something sharp—just in case he needed something to stab with.

"And hello to you, little one." A husky voice came from the bed. "Won't you come over here?"

Ciel nearly screamed and bolted for the door, but two strong hands wrapped around his waist—only making him struggle more.

"Hush, small one, I wouldn't dream of hurting you..." the man said, "not yet at least..."

"Wh-who are you?" Ciel demanded, both scared for his life, and incredibly angry at the intruder. "How did you get in..How long have you been here?" Ciel's voice became hysterical as more and more questions poured from his mouth; all the while trying desperately to escape the man's grasp.

The man chuckled darkly. "So many questions, so little time. I can't be long, but I've been dying to play with you." He brought his lips to Ciel's ear and licked the shell, "Perhaps we can play a game...one that you've put me through, hmm?"

Ciel paled even further before finally breaking free of his grasp. "What are you talking about? I've never met you in my life!"

The taller one gave what sounded to be a disappointed huff. "Oh, how unfortunate, even disappointing... you don't remember me..." He turned Ciel around and faster than younger could protest, he pressed them together despite the noticeable height difference. "Maybe this will provoke you memory..."

He roughly grabbed a fist full of Ciel's hair and brought their mouths together in a hard kiss. Ciel clamped his eyes shut and pushed against the other's chest.

When they broke apart Ciel was nearly in tears (he would never admit to it though) and touched his own lips. "...you...what..." He stuttered for a few moments before giving the intruder a harsh glare filled to the brim with hatred and disgust. Before he could yell and possibly throw something at the man, Ciel noticed the striking colour of the other's eyes.

Blood red eyes and a devilish smirk were features on the other's pale skin with raven hair that framed his face.

It...couldn't be...Ciel thought.

The smaller backed away from the now familiar man as he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping this was all just a dream.

When he reopened his eyes, the man was gone. Ciel furrowed his eyebrows when he found that he was in his own bedroom, instead of the black coloured one.

"What in the name of..." Ciel frowned and brought a hand up to rub his eyes, but stopped when he felt something rub off his hand and onto his face. He brought his hand up to see that a small amount of partially dried blood was on his hand.

So it wasn't a dream...? Ciel had never been so confused. Maybe I'm turning into a schizoid...

Frown still in place, Ciel wearily moved to open his door to the hallway, this time remembering to turn on a light. He went down the hallway, but a sickening feeling surged in his stomach when the hallway lead straight to the living area and kitchen. There had not been a second hallway on his way there...

Ciel hummed and bit his lip. Nothing was making sense today.

Feeling like he was going to pass out, Ciel went to the fridge and got a water bottle; all the way having the intense feeling of dread that some one was watching him.

A loud trill brought the writer out of his thoughts, which was strange since Aunt An said that the phone didn't work. He moved to pick it up and brought the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?"

The voice makes Ciel shiver at first and another feeling of dread washes over him. "I'm on my way."

Before Ciel has the chance to respond, the sound of dial tone blasted in Ciel's ear. "What the...?"

Ciel nervously laughed; thinking that it was probably only a joke...like one of those prank shows on T.V.. To put his mind at rest, Ciel goes to sit on the couch with his notebook and pencil.

Sebastian sits on the cold floor of the basement, in his head he half-heartily wishes that he was chained to the wall. Then he could at least struggle and have something to preoccupy himself with. He really only wanted to sleep, but he knew that his captor would definitely then chain him to a wall— and probably not feed him. Sebastian may think that he is invincible at times, but everyone needs food to stay alive.

Sebastian almost thought that it would be easier just to die than have to injure another day in this hell. But he can't, to have the twisted smile of his abductor as his last dying image would be worse than anything. Sebastian would rather see the angry scowl etched into the other man's face every time Sebastian wouldn't react to pain—though more increasingly, the other's torture has become more intense and the raven haired man finds himself shaking with fear more often than he would please.

A phone that his captor left on the table began to ring, and Sebastian moved over to answer it.

"Not long now." His captor said.

Sebastian dropped the phone when he heard a gun being loaded on the other line. Could tonight be the night it all ended?

The echo of a door being closed made Sebastian look up and—

Ciel groaned when the phone rung again. He angrily picked up the phone, about to blast the person who dared to interrupt his creativity. But, what the voice on the other end said made Ciel's blood run cold.

"Not long now..."

No...it was impossible...it must be his rapid imagination that was playing games with him...right?

Ciel started to then think that this whole trip had been bizarre and unexplainable; The flight attendant that wanted to possibly rape him, the whole intruder incident, and now the phone? Had he just been hallucinating the entire time? Would he wake up to find that this was just some strange dream? Where had that intruder go anyway...and how did he get in? Questions swarmed Ciel's mind far quicker than he had time to find answers for them all. Could it be his Aunt's work? Maybe she was trying to help him with his plot...or on the other end of the spectrum, perhaps Aunt An wanted to scare him so that he would seriously take a break.

No. His aunt wouldn't do that. Not to him, not after what happened to him; she knew, and Aunt An would never do anything like this to scare him...

Would she?

Ciel jumped when the phone rung a third time. Ciel could have sworn Aunt An said that the phone wasn't connected. The writer got up when he decided he would see where the phone cord was plugged in. Once he was in the kitchen where the phone laid—still ringing—Ciel got on his hands and knees and followed the cord. In went from down the counter to across the floor to the opposite end of the kitchen. The plug was on the wall, but not plugged in.

Yet the phone was stilling ringing. Ciel debated answering the possessed phone and instead brought his knees up to his chest and stared at the phone (which had thankfully stopped ringing).

The whole house was silent. The only sounds were the quiet hum of the fridge and the constant tick-tock of the old style clock.

Ciel gave a nervous squeak when in minutes, the phone started to ring again. He felt a wave of adrenaline and nausea hit it like a tidal wave, and he picked up the phone.

"I'm here." The two words had Ciel shaking.

"What do you want!" Ciel screams into the receiver, but only receives dial tone back.

He can feel himself hyperventilating and has to grab onto the fridge handle to keep himself from passing out. A loud knock on the door almost made Ciel's heart stop beating, but as another knock came from the front, the petrified organ beat furiously against Ciel's ribcage.

When the knocking didn't stop, Ciel nervously grabbed a frying pan from under the counter and slowly made his way to the entrance hallway. The young writer was almost in tears, as he flung the door open, ready to strike down whatever is behind it.

What he found instead was his red-head Aunt Angelina standing with a phone pressed against her ear. She frowned when she say a frying pan and gave Ciel a very confused look.

"Ciel, what on earth are you doing with that thing?" she asked stepping in as Ciel still stood there frozen.

A clatter and slam sound was heard behind Aunt An, and she turned to look at her nephew.

"Ciel, what is wrong? You look like you just saw a twenty foot monster."

Ciel internally debated on telling his aunt the truth, and decided he might as well. All the while, Aunt An listened as her frown grew longer. At the end of his explanation, Aunt An hugged Ciel and smiles.

"Well, I think it is splendid that you found a way to create a new scenario." Aunt An said. "Though, I'm not quite sure if it is a healthy way."

Ciel gave her a flash look of confusion. "What...?"

"For your book? That's the purpose of your whole story right, so that you could finish your book?"

She thought he had made the whole thing up. Maybe he was crazy.

"Ciel, you look a little pale, maybe you should get some rest. The phone company will be here in the morning," Aunt An took Ciel's arm and led him to the bedroom, "and maybe I'll come by tomorrow too so that we can go for breakfast."

Aunt An insisted that Ciel go to bed, and he could only oblige. He would definitely see a doctor in the morning as well, because if these strange events continue, Ciel just might declare himself mentally unstable.

The red-head aunt said that she would stay until he fell asleep and see if the T.V. worked. Once she left the room, Ciel instantly fell to sleep.

Ciel groaned as he reawaken, and went to raise his hands to stretch, but found that he couldn't. He also realised that he was in a standing position with his back pressed against cold stone. His hands were bounded above his head and his feet were also. A cold draft brings to his attention that he is completely naked. Ciel instantly started to panic, first thinking that it was just another nightmare.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in... an adorable lost kitten." A familiar sultry voice said. "How delightful."

Ciel continued to struggle harder against his bounds, fully aware of the surprisingly real pain he felt as the handcuffs dug into his pale skin—after all this was only a dream, how much 'pain' could you feel?

"You!" Ciel glared at the man, remembering him as the same intruder that was in his house earlier.

"Hmm?" He hummed. "I have a name, you know. Do you remember yet?"

"..."

"Well, seeing as you have lost your memory for the moment, I'll introduce myself."

With a sigh and straitening of his black dress jacket. "I, am Sebastian Michaelis."

Ciel stopped struggling long enough to huff at the other. "Hello then, I'm Ciel, your creator. Now let me down!"

Sebastian thought for a minute, cradling his chin in his hand. "Hmm...No, I'd rather not."

"And why not?" Ciel's voice again became hysterical, as he desperately despised being restrained and would much rather wake up than stay and converse with his own character.

The raven ignored Ciel's question and moved to sit on a near by table—one that Ciel hoped didn't have any sharp objects on as per his last dream.

"You see, little kitten," Sebastian began, "I am tired of being the victim in your implied autobiography. Before you even ask, I know exactly what happened to you because in a roundabout way, I am you. Rather, I am something that has come from your mind, thus I know every little detail about you, Ciel Vincent Phantomhive.

"So, since you are putting me through torture, I assume it is your cruel way of getting back at those who did similar to you. That's why you take the liberty of sending copies of your books to the ones in prison—the ones who kidnapped you and—"

"STOP!" Ciel violently thrashed. "Enough! I am done with this dream!"

"Dream?" Sebastian actually laughed at this. "You still think that you are dreaming little kitten?"

Sebastian got down from the table and stood in front of Ciel. "Oh...That is where you are dearly mistaken, little one, for this is no dream!"

"W-what are you talking about?" Ciel said, his voice rising an octave. "Of course this is a dream! What else would it be?"

"...perhaps you could call it a intervention of some sorts. Or perhaps a game!" Sebastian smirked, "I, the victim, and you, the master, switch roles in a diverse scenario. Like I said before, I am fed up with your abuse. I may be just a figment of your imagination, but that doesn't mean that I can't suck your mind into itself."

"That...doesn't even make sense." Ciel didn't like where this was going one bit. "This is a dream."

Sebastian sighed again. "Suit yourself. Learn the hard way, see if I care." With that, the raven walked into the darkness, leaving Ciel to fight against the chains again.

After a few minutes, a door creaked open and slammed shut. Ciel raised his head to see another man creeping towards him, twirling a knife in his hand.

Just a dream, Ciel told himself, but then, as the fear quickly settled in him, Ciel wasn't quite sure if this is a dream after all.

Without warning, the other man slide the sharp knife into Ciel's lower stomach. Ciel omitted a dry scream as the other twisted the knife slightly, causing it to cut Ciel's insides more.

Ciel continued to chant 'Just a dream, just a scary dream' in his head, but as the knife slide out, he can't help but realise how real the agonizing pain was.

Before the other man left, he whispered to Ciel, "You'll make a fun new pet." Ciel recognized the voice. It was the one on the phone. But...how? They were all just characters in his book...figments of his imagination...how could they be real?

After moments of harsh breathing, Sebastian appeared beside Ciel; he silently wiped the oozing blood from Ciel's wound. When he finished, the raven stroked Ciel's tear stained face gently.

"In a way, this is my sick, sadistic, twisted way of revenge on you," he said softly, "and I'm going to enjoy every second watching you suffer, little kitten.

"You are stuck here with me until you have learned something significant or another. I'll make sure to put you through everything that you once put me through." Sebastian lightly pressed his lips to Ciel's in a mock seal to their one-sided contract. Another kiss was placed on Ciel's right eye, and immediately, the teal-haired boy felt raw excruciating pain stem from that eye.

"This is my mark on you, just as you have marked me," Sebastian lifts his hand to display the burn mark on his left hand. A pentacle. "I will do things word for word, Ciel, so prepare yourself."

""Emotionless, that was what he was. However, he was weak; A fragile child hiding behind a strong stone fortress. This child was an empire, but one empire can easily be conquered by another. In a way, his fortress had already been breached, his empire destroyed and his battle worn body lied lifeless in mud. How could something that doesn't—or at least shouldn't—exist possibly beat him at his own game? The words he typed, the world he created, all of it turned into a twisted reality; one that he will be stuck in.

How long will he be caged within black ink and clean white paper? Will he be strong enough to escape; is there even a way out? When he is put through the events of his own book, what happens when the pages run out?""

A/N *Throws confetti in your face* Welcome to my newest story! Here, you deserve some Yummy Yaoi Cake for have finished reading that thing above *Points to story* I know it's may not be the best, but meh.

Moving on, I apologize for OOC-ness, this is my first Kuroshitsuji story so I'm still getting my head wrapped around how to write the characters. Although telling me if you like/love/possible loath the story is great and all, constructive criticism is HIGHLY appreciated. n_n

I'm on the lookout for a beta, or just someone to help me, for my stories in the Kuro fandom. I need one who will be HARSH, knows how to keep the Kuro characters IC extremely well and one whom is willing to kick my ass if I start slacking. If you know anyone, or are interested in helping me, I'd probably love you forever. :heart:

Things I realise about this chapter:

-It probs lacks character emotion/;;/ It's probs OOC/;;/It probs doesn't resemble anything that is Kuroshitsuji/;;/My dialogue grammar is not correct. I realise the there is suppose to be commas before quotation marks and blah blah blah. I don't care. So suck it.

-Tiiley-chan