The Devil's Bride *Sebastian Love*

Her Butler, Destroying

"Hello Jeremy, it's been a long time." Smirks Ciel

"Earl, do you know this old guy?" asked Lau suspiciously.

"Old guy?" questioned the man called Jeremy, slightly offended.

"Yes." Replied Ciel, to both questions

"Well then everyone, call me Jeremy." He introduced, maintaining his usual politeness.

"You're a priest?" asks Charles

"You expect me to believe this suspicious guy? The thirteenth man is the only one without an alibi for all three murders!" accuses Carl. "It's got to be him!"

"That deduction is complete nonsense, Mr. Woodley." Retorts Jeremy.

"H-how do you know my name?"

"With those rings it was perfectly obvious. A diamond that large..." And while all the formalities were taking place, Selima was nowhere to be found. Alette had no concerns, in fact she barely noticed her absence. It was Jeremy who noticed her, a flash of crimson in the rain. She stood, staring down at her wedges, curly hair matted and forming a curtain around her face.

"Hey there she is!" called one of the intruders, pointing out the cerise woman. He charged her, while his comrades chided him for not waiting for them. Beneath her hair, she smirked a little, and stayed perfectly still as the man approached her, weapon at the ready. He had pocketed his handgun, and pulled out a switchblade. He had broad shoulders, and pale skin that was dotted with sweat, stubble and rain. She was very analytical; this man was obviously very naïve to the way of the Vamphinas and to the ways of murder. One did not simply charge Selima Lovelace and live. To the normal eye, she did not move and the man may have succeeded, and for a moment the man even believed he had prospered. But then he felt a white hot pain emerge as blood leaked from his abdominal region. He places a hand on where the cut is, and is surprised to feel his own pulsing organs, ready to spill out. His intestines were slippery and the smell of agony and death was upon him. He screamed out, but his coworkers had already gone to plan b, they were reforming, leaving him behind. This could be happening. He had so much left to live for; his own vital fluids poured out, he coughed some up, he felt it forming a puddle around him. The pain was excruciating, he screamed out.

"You're creating a disturbance; my mistress need not know of your presence. Don't you know how to die quietly?" sneered Selima. She put a foot to his head, creating a muddy footprint.

"Please, god, no!" he pleaded. And those were his last words. She crushed his skull like a melon, blood splattering all up her leg and over the ground. It took no effort at all for her. She whipped around to find all four men left, pointing their guns at her. She smiled, winks at them then flips over with ease; she was very flexible. Everyone watches how quick she moves with awe, and with fear. Two men and a woman fire at her. Bullets whiz past her twisting body. And she lands behind a woman with strawberry blondish hair. It was rare to find a woman in this industry, so they must have been getting desperate. She places a sharpened knife to her jugular.

"Please, don't cut me!" she whimpered, tears beading up in her eyes.

"Okay." Agrees Selima and for a moment the woman relaxes. Until she feels two long clawed hands, take her by the face softly, and snap her neck. The sound was sickening, causing even the men to flinch. She drops to the floor like a rock would sink in water. Three more left. She had malice in her eyes, and larceny of life in her heart. This was her element. She, a younger demon, had less control than Sebastian. She still loved to rip into souls, to tear apart human beings.

"This woman can't be human..." screamed one of the man, firing off a few rounds at her. She grabbed them out of the air and chucked them forward, piercing the man's heart. He fell to the ground as well, blood pooling outward, staining the mud and