A Blind Seer

Chapter 11

My skull pounds, feeling like it's being bashed in. I press forward anyway, examining Lord Barrymore's memories through Ciel's own from dinner.

When I pull away, my heart pounds in my ears and blood is dripping down my chin. I take a few deep breaths before speaking, "It's- It's not Lord Barrymore." I say, my voice quivering slightly. "Are you sure?" Ciel presses, obviously not trusting I could see everything, which I couldn't. "No." I state simply. "Give me your hands again, I'll need to be more thorough this time." I demand, my face hardening as I sit forward. "Working you into exhaustion wouldn't exactly benefit me." Ciel reprimands. My trademarked scowl returns, "I won't die! And even if I'm exhausted, I can still look into memories! This is the only way to get my ability to do what I want! Without this kind of conditioning, I'd be like this every time I looked into someone's head and they'd see the memories I look at too!" I bark in harsh protest. "You'll have to excuse my lack of manners. Now, give me your damned hands." I growl, reaching my own hands out in front of me.

Ciel sighs, "You're quite bothersome." Ciel complains as his hands land in mine. I chuckle coldly, "It's my specialty."

•   •   •

"It's Lord Barrymore." This time, I say it firmly. Even at the pounding, skull-shattering pain that bleeds from my head, my voice doesn't quiver. The blood from my nose drains as profusely, which is stopped by a cloth that Sebastian had given me prior to searching the memories.

"And as for that Angela girl... I don't like her." I remark, slowly pushing up from my seat. I hold the cloth to my nose and begin using my cane to guide myself to the exit. My legs are weak beneath me, but hold enough strength to walk. When I reach the door, my cane stops, finding something in the door way.

"I'm so sorry." Angela's voice apologizes, I hear her shift, as I feel with my cane I can tell she moved to allow me through. Instead, I back away, deciding to stay and listen to what she has to say. "Lord Phantomhive, I apologize for the lateness of the hour." Angela insists, her voice so drenched in innocence I have to attempt not to vomit. "My Young Master is about to retire." Sebastian comments, sounding almost apologetic. "I have a request:" Angela begins, sounding slightly timid. "Please, leave this village." Angela begs, obviously feigning disparity.

Every last word that comes from this girl's mouth; they all sound like lies. It's infuriating, I can't figure out what statements could possibly be true.

"You mustn't be here." Angela continues. "Why not?" Ciel questions  back indifferently. "I can't.." Before Angela can finish, a distant howl rings. Angela gasps, "Oh no! The demon hound is here!" Angela exclaims, her voice still soft and quiet despite the panic supposedly dripping from her tone. "Demon hound?" Ciel questions, his interest seeming peaked.

Angela lets out a shriek instead of an answer. "You're not being very helpful for a servant!" I bark at Angela.

"Sebastian!" Ciel calls, I hear footsteps pound before I hear fabric being tossed aside. "What was that?" Ciel asks. "Young Master, look." Sebastian says. Everything goes silent for a few moments. "What's happening?" I demand, my brows furrowed. "Sebastian, grab the girl." Ciel commands. Before I can argue, I'm swiped from my feet and being carried as the two run to some undisclosed location.

"What the hell is going on?!" I shout, my voice becoming angrier. We exit the castle and I'm set down. "We're hunting a demon hound, isn't it obvious?" Ciel inquires, his voice lowering to the ground before rising up again.

"What the devil's the fuss about?" Baldroy questions as he and the other Servants exit, apparent in their concerned shouts. "The demon hound has appeared." Angela begins explaining. That's when I tune out, recessing to my own thoughts.

•   •   •

"Let me see the body." I growl, Sebastian setting me down once again. I feel Ciel next to me. My fingers run across the man's face, feeling drops of blood and scratches as I go. My thumbs land on his eyes and I begin sifting through what memories remain. "Don't touch!" I here someone bark, ignoring their order.

"James Corey, twenty three years old, trained dogs for a living." I recite as I examine him. "His death was caused by..." Before I can finish, a kick is landed on my side. I'm tossed away from the body, skidding across the ground. Despite the shock, I don't shriek or even groan. I simply lay for a moment before pushing myself up, brushing the dirt from my face and arm. "I said: Don't touch!" Lord Barrymore barks again, his voice holding a hidden fear. "Don't kick my servants." Ciel spits. I stand, Mey-Rin beside me and helping me to my feet, asking if I'm okay. "I'm fine, Mey-Rin." I partly lie, the kick having agitated my healing bruise.

"Anyway, the murder was Lord Barrymore's doing." I tell Ciel, others able to hear my announcement. "One of James' dogs stole fabric away from Lord Barrymore's pants while trying to protect him, surely you can match the bite marks and fabric. That 'demon hound' was just a regular dog covered in phosphor. And it's shadow is a projection that the poor, power-hungry Lord Barrymore runs around pointing at windows." I explicate, turning to face the commotion of the villagers. "Is that that not right, Lord Barrymore?" I inquire viciously, a smirk playing at my lips. He stutters, his hesitation already enough to sway the weak-minded villagers. And thusly, he's chased off by the mob. I yawn, stretching as I do. I pat around James' body and find my cane where I had left it before being kicked by Lord Barrymore.

"I expect to have a nice, long chat with that man. Twist up his head up nicely." I suggest, holding Mey-Rin's arm. "Of course." Ciel agrees, a malicious smirk playing about in his tone.

• • •

"Hello, Lord Barrymore." I greet, entering the basement dungeon in the early hours of the morning. Ciel and Sebastian escort me, Ciel deciding to see the way I can drive a man mad.

"Please, like a child could intimidate me." The Lord spits, his hands slamming against the bars. I smile, willing the atmosphere around me to shift.

"Don't worry, Lord Barrymore. You won't be hurt, not physically. But I assure you, there won't be any recess of your mind I won't reach, no memory I won't twist, and no hope that will remain in your brittle mind once I'm done with you." I threaten, my voice dripping with a sweetness that could make teeth rot. Lord Barrymore's face is smashed against the bars and I press my thumbs to his eyes, I hold his mind, forcing his limbs to be useless. I flit through his memories forcing the most traumatic ones and slowly twisting the knife of the wounds the memories leave deeper and deeper with each replay. Slowly, the memories begin to change. It's a fragile thing, the human mind. Every time a memory is recalled, more and more becomes wrong; more details changing.

I force Lord Barrymore's mind into submission, leaving him a husk of a man as his shouts of protest and begs begin becoming weaker, until they're nonexistent. His memories become mush, mixed around and so changed that they're unrecognizable to even the Lord himself. I pull away, and I hear Lord Barrymore slink to the ground.

"I've left enough of him to make sure he understands human desperation and his empty self. That should leave him wishing for death, so keeping him alive will be worse than any sort of physical torture." I explicate simply, turning on my heel and towards the exit.

"I'm amazed at how quickly you work, Miss Aylin. And how precisely, no less." Sebastian comments, suggesting at something. I pick up on it and smirk, "Of course, after all, practice allows perfection."