The Demons Bride (Black Butler)

chapter 15

This type of text is normal.

This is thoughts and cinematic records.

This is demonic speech.

This is thoughts and demonic speech.

[This is functions for the start and end of cinematic records.]

                                                         Butler, Freeloader. Bride, To Be a Mate

Big Ben was chiming through the night, snowflakes falling from the sky in spectacular white clumps. Two men strolled through the streets, clearly of Indian descent. 

Their skin was the color of dark coffee, and their bodies were covered in fine silks. The first man, a young man with plum purple hair and golden eyes, spoke.

"This is gorgeous," he said, catching a snowflake in his hand. "It is so cold. Agni, what is this?"

His companion, older than him with short white hair and slate grey eyes, answered him.

"This substance is called snow, my prince. It falls during the winter in England."

The prince looked up Big Ben's clock face.

"How odd."

He looked around at the people as they passed by, and the carriages trotting along the cobbled streets.

"So this is England," he said thoughtfully. "It is beautiful."

The next morning, a crowd was gathered around a crime scene. Scotland Yard was dealing with a most unusual situation. Several men were strung up by their ankles in nothing but their undergarments, papers attached to their fronts with messages written on them.

"This is the child of craziness and laziness. England is the blasphemous country that has taken all and forced on us its arrogant ways and its rotten culture. Retribution should befall the fools of the country the hellcat rules."

Randall read this note from one of the victims, which was signed with a tongue sticking out of its mouth. He snatched it off the man and growled at Aberline.

"This makes twenty victims so far! And you still haven't caught this criminal? Explain!"

Aberline shuddered under his gaze but bit his tongue.

"I haven't and I'm sorry Sir Arthur!" he apologized.

Turning back to the note, Randall's hands shook.

"And Jack the Ripper slipped through our hands. That brat got all the credit," he snarled.

Aberline didn't look up from his notes as he replied.

"Brat, Sir? Who do you mean? You're speaking of Ciel Phantomhive?" He then directed his gaze to his superior. "You know, I can't help but feel he's carrying some immense burden on his shoulders. And he is still only a child."

Randall glared at him out of the corner of his eye.

"A child?"

"So, all of the victims had just returned home from India then?" Ciel said, suddenly appeared at Aberline's side with Sebastian and Marianne in tow.

The policeman started.

"You're here?!" he gasped.

"But the culprit hasn't killed anyone yet?" continued Ciel, ignoring the interruption.

He walked forward and snatched the note from Randall's hand.

"The child of craziness and laziness. This man has a way with words, doesn't he? I agree our country would benefit if all these 'nouveau riche' fresh from India disappeared." Eyeing the signature at the end, he continued. "Still, I don't like this mark."