Demon (Black Butler Fanfic)

Interrogated

The tap of heeled boots broke through the screams of the many people behind bars. Cold and wet, the brick floors resembled dungeons, but this was just the first floor and Madam Victoria Victor Von was not scheduled for the first floor, no, she was scheduled to the sixth floor.

Two tall guards in green uniforms quickly stood, muttering a choirs of "Madam" as Victoria brushed past, each corner having it's own set of guards, and each guard muttering a Madam.

Keeping her expressionless, professional facade on, Victoria ran up the stairs, taking two at a time and cursing the government for not putting an elevator in, or at least an elevator that worked.

Finally she reached the sixth floor, her favorite floor, why you may ask, because her office was number 669, something she requested as a joke.

"Hey Vicky! How ya doin'?" Another tall male, or everyone was just taller than her, stepped in her perreferal vision.

"Fine, Jimmy." Victoria waited for his response, knowing his every move, something Jim shouldn't be proud of.

"Fine has many definitions. Fine is an unacceptable response." The blonde man said, trying to copy Spock's voice as Victor Von caught sight of his mustache.

"Don't go all Star Wars on me." The dyed white haired woman responded. Smirking as his happy go lucky expression flickered away.

"It's Star TREK!"

"Haha, I know. No need to call upon the fandom police. And by the way, what's with the Hitler stache?" The slowly walked down the hall. This floor was covered in stained carpet and fuzzy walls. This was Victoria's favorite, but she hated it too. It's not like the government hired a maid for the building. They were all to scared.

"Hitler stache! Excuse you! This is a London stache!" Said man put a hand to the hair under his nose.

"Yeah and I heard Hitler went to London too." She laughed and swung into her office.

Instead he snorted. "You know nothing of London or anything, but American!"

"Well I live in America! So all i need to worry about is me!" The short woman grabbed a couple weapons, mostly knives.

Rolling his eyes at her inconsiderate behavior, Jimmy clutched his heart. "What about me!?"

"Ha! Can wittle Jimmy not take care of his wittle self?" Reaching over she pinched his cheek, the upstairs ones.

The blonde man swatted her hand away with a pout. "We have a new recruit by the way." His eyes told her all she needed to know.

"And why are you telling me?" She tapped her boots on the floor, hoping to not get the answer.

"Come on! You should know! Your gonna train him. You are the best after all, and try not to scare this one away. Not a lot of people want this job. It's hard to find anyone willing." The man also pulled up a couple guns, not wanting to look into the Madam's eyes.

Said womans eyes flashed in anger. "I don't know why more people don't want to work here. It's fun. You get to play games. Eat all the food. Meet new people. Make friends. And you get to wear what ever you want! What more could someone ask for?" Victoria was just angry that the government blamed her for scaring new recruits away. The job required scary! Then again, her and Jimmy didn't look scary at all, he looked more like a marshmallow and she looked like a poh-tah-toe.

Jim took a glance at her clothes. "Yeah it's unfortunate. Do you throw on whatever you find?" His eyes racked to the black trench coat and pink overalls. Then the hair, the white fluff that was sitting on her shoulders.

"No! I carefully plan each outfit! Obviously! It's just your poor sense of fashion. Now I have to visit someone. And send the newbe up. Bye Hitler!" With that she gave him the Natzi salute and stalked down the hall, her emotionless facade, reserved for the guards and the cameras, the government probably didn't appreciate someone giving a Hitler salute.

Miss Von quickly walked down the hall, to room 666, another funny coincidence.

Stepping in the dark room and flicking the bright light on making the victim and herself hiss in pain, both use to the morbid dark of the building.

Taking a quick glance at the room. Vicky suddenly knew why the guards placed the Victim in this paticulat room number.

The lady was crazy. Digging in her own skin so she can draw pentagrams and other weird shit on the walls.

Upon entering, the ladies head twitched upwards, letting V see the collar around her neck.

"Hey what's up? How ya been?" Smiling like that was her long lost friend the witch responded with a loud cackle.

"Haha that was pretty funny, huh?" Vicky asked, knowing that the first thing is to pretend your their friend.

"...." The hag stopped and glared. "Shut up."

This stopped the exotic dressed woman, her features molded into anger. "Haha." Instead of the light and friendly laugh, she let out a cold humorless chuckle. "You shouldn't say things that'll get ya hurt. So how about you tell me your name and I'll tell you mine." The witch slowly tilted her head up to show red eyes and powered skin with cracks in her face, the long black hair, done from hiding her features.

"I have no name. For I am the nameless servant to Satan! I follow all and ev--"

The interrogator cut off the witches rant. "Damn! That is one long name. Mine is Madam Von. Now why did you go all terrorist and who sent you?"

The black haired woman spat on the ground at the name, fear spread through every limb she owned. 'Von'

"N-not Victoria Victor Von?" The witch started to shake, she knew who this ugly dressed woman was, every crinimal did.

"No.." This made the victim breathe a sigh of relief till Von finished. " .. It's Madam Victoria Victor Von." Smirking at the terrified expression, Victoria brought out a long knife. "Now answer."

Not wanting to disobey, but not wanting to disobey Satan, she opted not to speak, religion was everything to her, she wouldn't have killed millions of people with bombs to just drop it.

"Cat got your tongue? It's okay, I have an idea." Smirking Victoria set it up and opted to return in an hour, maybe hang out with the new recruit.

Okay I know I make a lot of mistakes while typing so sorry. Ok so 1097 words.