Author's Note: A sincere warning to all of you: nobody has beta-read this piece. This is my work in all its original, unedited, un-proofread glory. Ye have been warned.

I've been on a major Black Butler kick lately, and, in line with that, I've been reading a fair amount of Black Butler fanfiction. One afternoon, it popped into my head how (when dealing with Ciel, anyhow), Sebastian is often presented as a very human sort of character, one who feel affection (and in some cases, romantic love) towards Ciel. Oh, before I go any farther, let me say—this is not a SebastianxCiel fic. I honestly don't understand the attraction of that pairing. Pedophile yaoi is not hot. It's plain disturbing.

Okay, back to my original topic. Don't get me wrong with this whole fic; I love Sebby just as much as the next fangirl. But in the end, he's still a demon, and demons are and will always be the bad guys.

Hopefully this came across in the way I was hoping it to…it's the first time I've attempted something like this (sort of character-study-ish...but more specific…? Ehhhh, whatever.) Maybe I'll do one for each of the Black Butler characters in turn.

If you loved it, leave a review. If you hated it, leave a review. If you took the time to favorite the darn thing, please leave a review. Thank you.

The terms of the contract are as follows: that, in exchange for your soul, I shall help you to exact revenge upon your parents' murderers; that I shall follow your orders, and protect your life until such time as your revenge is complete; and that I shall never lie.

While I can honestly say that I have never lied to you, I cannot say that I have told you the truth, either.

Humans are such fascinating creatures; so driven, so obsessed with their own petty emotions. The lengths they will go to in order to satisfy their own ends—they, and you in particular, my Young Lord, will never cease to amaze me. To sacrifice one's eternal soul in exchange for the fleeting, bitter glory of revenge…

But—pardon me for saying this, Master, but revenge is not your only objective, is it? If that were the case, you could have finished your work from the moment you summoned me. You know the extent of my powers. It would have been simple enough.

No, Young Master, for all your pretense, your dressed-up pomp and power, your arrogance, you remain a child. You are frightened of the dark, of what skulks in the shadows that have haunted your family for generations. You are frightened of the past, of the future, and of yourself.

You are not so hardened as you would have me believe, are you? Time has strengthened you, I do not deny it; but you are brittle, my Young Master, as fragile as fine china, and no cold, calculating front can hide that from me. Do you not recall, my Lord, that it is your soul you promised me? I would not have entered into this contract without being fully aware of exactly what it was I would be receiving. And your soul, Young Master, is not all you pretend it to be.

I know you. I know your misery, your purity, your hatred and your innocence, your naïveté as yet untouched by bitterness. And I know your fear. Oh, fear is beautiful. A soul filled with fear is one of the most delicious delicacies this world has to offer. Your soul is rich with raw emotion, blended together and seasoned with your past.

You, my Young Master, are a feast any demon would covet.

I have said that you fear for your future. But you are not nearly frightened enough. Do you understand the full weight of the soul, Young Lord? No human, throughout the reaches of time, has ever grasped the immensity of the concept. Do you believe your sufferings on Earth to be on par with the agony of even the outermost reaches of Hell? I know of Hell, Young Master, and no pathetic sampling your universe offers will ever compare.

This fear, this delectable, mouth-watering fear that you waste on the comings and goings of your own existence…when it is I you should fear most of all.

I am no mere butler to you, am I? Humans will forever crave the affections of their own kind. When those closest to you were torn away, it was impossible for you to deny your basest instincts and simply continue on without them. I have become your crutch; a replacement, perhaps, for the father you lost. You trust me more than you trust any other creature in your life. And as the so-called pawns you surround yourself with continue to fall away and betray you, you will come to trust me all the more.

You are so easily manipulated, so easily fooled, so easily bought. You may delude yourself into thinking you are wise, but words will trick you as they will any other human. No matter how many times I address you as Master, no matter how many renditions of, "Yes, my Lord," pass my lips, you will always be my servant, and I am and have always been the one in control.

Oh, how you intrigue me, Ciel Phantomhive. I wonder how long your precious façade will last. Will it survive in your last moments, when your task is fulfilled but you find yourself as hollow and dissatisfied as before? Can you maintain your arrogant composure while you are devoured? Do you consider yourself above the torment of Hell?

When that moment comes, do not turn to me for pity. Do not look to me for compassion. I can play many pieces, my Lord, but tunes such as those will never be found in my repertoire. They are not in my nature.

Do not be surprised when the fine features, the pressed suit, the polished exterior fall away and I become what I have been all along.

And remember, when I say "Yes, my Lord," to my only true Master, the one who resides in the deepest circles of everlasting fire, that it was you, Ciel Phantomhive, who summoned me.