Mute - Revised (A Black Butler Fanfiction)

Chapter 8

They eventually disperse to get changed into their regular clothes and continue their work. Dana directs me to where Lauren was, leaning against the wall. I apologized as best I could. He understood when Dana explained to him and he forgave me.

"Okay," Dana whispers, "Here comes the hard part. Your mother is in the next room. You ready?"

I take a shaky breath and nod.

Carlotta and Mother are there. Carlotta, with bags under her eyes, glares disgustedly at me. Mother doesn't look up.

She stands up.

She walks over to us, circling us like a hawk circles its prey. But strangely, I was the one with the gun.

"So," she drawls, "Last night you chose to leave. At midnight. Waking your poor sister and our guests with a gunshot, along with shattering a window. What, may I ask, was so important that you simply could not wait until morning?"

I hung my head, listening to Dana explain. "And how did you know the wolves would attack your horse without fault?"

I hesitated, then signed Didn't. "She didn't know for sure that they would attack Dahlia," Dana whispers.

"I see. So you left on a whim?"

I nod. "Yes," Dana whispered.

Mother stops circling us, turning to face us directly.

She smiles, "Actually this couldn't have worked out better. Do you know how much a new window costs?" I shake my head.

Her smile grows wider. "About the same as a horse and her foal."

You know how you might miss a step on the stairs, and your stomach seems to vanish. That's how I reacted, except my entire insides vanished. My blood stopped. I don't remember breathing.

She spins around and walks back to the table. "What? No!" Dana starts, speaking for herself now. "Madam, you can't! Separating a mother from its foal could do horrendous damage to both of them!" Mother picks up a knife. Dana doesn't notice. "And taking those two away from MC? She cares about them more than herself! She proved that last night! That wound on her arm is from a wolf that attacked her! How can you just-"

~SLICE~

I clap a hand over my mouth, staring in horror. Dana's hair, her beautiful black hair I admired so much was lying on the ground in a lifeless puddle. Mother stood behind her, knife in hand, an impassive look on her face. She had cut the ponytail short, leaving less than an inch left in it. Several jagged strands were already slipping out.

Dana, surprised, reached back, feeling her hair. "There," Mother sighs. "I've already found a buyer, and backing out would give the Autumnvale's a bad name. Now take Mary-Clara and clean that little scratch before she gets any blood on the floors. They are expensive."

Dana, with a light in her eyes I'd never seen before, grabs my good hand and marches us back to my room. We halt in front of the door, neither of us saying anything.

I manage to sign Sorry, knowing I should say more, but unable to. If I had a stomach still, I'm sure guilt would be eating away at it.

She chuckles, too forced. "It's okay," she says. "I was needing a haircut anyways. You head on in, sit on your bed and wait for me, I'll get some supplies to aid your wound."

I nod, watch her retreating back turn the corner before heading into my room. The candle from last night is still burning bright. I softly close the door behind me and shuffle to my bed.

A shadow moves.

I whirl around, too slow. The person wraps their hand around my windpipe, lifting me up off the ground. My lungs start to burn for air. My pistol slips from my numbing fingers. Manic laughter fills my head.

I open my mouth to call for help, or to cuss at him, but as always, nothing comes out.

Black spots dance before my eyes, I claw at the man's hand weakly. I'm not going to make it. I suppose I never was.

Light floods the room as the door opens. Something is dropped and makes a loud clattering sound. It must be Dana with the tray.

Just before I passed out, I dimly registered a gunshot and a gasp.

The gasp came from Dana.

___________________________________

Ugh.....

My throat . . . my arm . . .

I snort and weakly push myself up. I'm lying in bed, the morning light touching every corner of the room.

I lick my lips sleepily. Where's Dana?

Dana.

My heart takes off at light speed. The man. Is he still in my room?

No, this is a different room.

I scramble into trousers and a shirt but spend a few moments looking for father's jacket before I remember I shredded it. I glance at my arm, my pulse as loud as thunder in my ears. Someone must have cleaned and stitched it because it's wrapped in an actual bandage now. I slip my gun into my waistband.

Sprinting, I race to the breakfast area again. I throw open the doors, panting and scan the room.

Carlotta. Mother.

No Dana.

I feel my knees hit the floor a second after my heart does. That man - he couldn't have - is Dana - my Dana - because of me-?

"Mary-Clara, don't just sit on the ground like that after wrenching the doors open with such vigor. What on earth is wrong?" I lock onto Mother, who is watching me, unblinking, and I am hoping, begging, pleading with my eyes that she'll tell me Dana is alive tell me Dana is alive tell me she is alive she has to be alive.

"Oh yes, that was quite the surprise, walking in to see you passed out, half-strangled and Dana with a bullet wound. I'm rather disappointed the man didn't finish you off. Though I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky. If the Phantomhive butler hadn't done away with that man he would have come after Carlotta and me next. No matter." Mother says carelessly.

Tears prick the corner of my eyes, though I know the floodwaters behind the dam will burst if the truth gets through. Dana's dead? No. No no no no no, she can't be. She - she can't be gone, she was all I had.

"Oh, it was horrible!" Carlotta shudders. "That much blood! Yuck! I'm just glad it didn't stain the floors, really. Imagine that - then we'd have to get new floors! Oh, but they're bamboo, and they aren't being sold anymore! They were expensive!"

Not all the words in sign language - no, not even all the words in the English language could have described the pure hatred I felt at that moment. The switch in emotional states was so sudden I didn't even process it at the time.

She notices my intensity. "Oh, don't bother standing up for yourself, mute. You couldn't lay a hand on me anyways! The butlers by the walls would stop you before you got close enough. Their paycheck depends on it, and we both know it's only human nature to be selfish." I stand up and walk over to her. "I'm the exception, of course, when all you care about is yourself! You just wanted to look good for the Phantomhive Earl, that's why you went to the stables and got yourself hurt: to make yourself look more desirable. That's why you act like you're mad at me for insulting your worthless, good-for-nothing butler: as if you could have feelings. As if you're normal-"

Mother's selling Dahlia. Dana is gone. I have nothing to lose.

I slam my fist into her cheekbone, snapping her head to the side and earning the most satisfying crack I've ever heard.

Silence.