I Hate Everything About You

Season of the Witch

One Month Later

{Sebastian's P.O.V.}

I haven't been able to return to the Abbey, nor have I made much significant progress in convincing my master of his sister's honesty. The events with the Circus, with the children we now learned were under some type of spell, brought out a different side to the child I serve, one wise beyond his years in ways even I didn't foresee.

In an ironic homage to his own family's demise, he burned their house, killing them all. I don't believe the Queen favoured his decision, and I do expect a response from her, though I'm not sure when or by what means she is to get her point across.

It's late, almost dawn. I finished all the tasks required of the evening hours ago, and again, am the only one awake at the late hour. I circle the perimeter of the mansion, thinking back on what I've endured, and what I'll need to do moving forward.

I told her I'd help her, and it's been weeks since I've been able to do anything. My first priorities will always lie with my master, so it's only fair I haven't returned to assist the elder Phantomhive child. I'm certain she's safe, and in good hands, so I'm not worried. Still, there is something even I still don't quite understand.

I cannot find a definitive answer for why my young lord doesn't remember his sibling at all. My theory is that he was simply too young when she left, and the burden her family placed on her, ushering her away to some lonely place for the 'mad' could have easily shadowed her prior presence at home. Her parents -though in her opinion caring- might have simply prioritised other responsibilities for their son, rather than acquainting him with her. Even so, his reaction to her revelation was peculiar. Something about his mannerisms seemed almost forced; the way in which he responded was as though someone else's hand had pulled an invisible string. Knowing myself well, to say the least, it's understandable for me to suspect some otherworldly involvement, and I plan on investigating that, now that I have free time.

Sunlight begins to trickle through the windows throughout the manor, and I know I'll have to rise soon to prepare the morning's array of requirements, ensuring tea is ready, food is made, adopting all the duties of a perfect servant. If I'm to confess one truth, I enjoy the aesthetics I've developed, but, in hindsight, they leave something to be desired as far as my darker, demonic nature. Service is only a temporary burden, a means to an ends, a stepping-stone in a grander desire and need to live and to eat. I'd say it's only human, but it's far from that. Perhaps, natural would be a more suitable term. Humans are not unlike us in that way: we do what's best for ourselves. We always have.

Humans revolt me. Though, I find them interesting. There must be something about the Phantomhive family that's especially intriguing. How else could I be so fascinated by both its heirs, only one proven insane, while the other might slowly be devolving into his own fragile mentality?

I pause, startled at the presence of something, or someone else approaching the estate. Who could be trying to worm their way onto this property so early? I leave, swiftly and effectively exiting the main house, ensuring that it's not another one of those criminals we've only recently dealt with, some poor straggler from the carnival of horrors, only to note it looks like some sort of courrier.

Who would deliver a letter at sunrise?

I address the man, before noticing it's not anyone from the post, nor the yard, but rather, the church.

A cleric?

"Sir! Sir! I'm so sorry, to intrude this morning, but I've come to deliver something important to you. Is your name Sebastian?"

"Why would someone be delivering a personal missive to a mere butler?" I don't bother with formalities. He understands. He's found the correct recipient.

"She said you were her friend. This girl, she's sick. Father Gaufridi needs you to come help her. She says you're all she has, and that you, specifically...well" he pants; he's tired. "Just read this."

"Did you come here on foot?" I reply, somewhat affronted as I glance over the words. "Why go through all that trouble?"

"It's not safe." He's clearly afraid. "Didn't you hear?"

I'm actually surprised. I haven't heard this accusation in a while.

"Hear what?" I try to appear disinterested, but I'm far from apathetic.

"There's a witch. She's cursing people, sinking ships!" He whispers. "They say she's killing men of the cloth. I think there's evidence the Devil is at work here, sir."

"Please." I scoff. "Don't call me that."

"My apologies." He turns, glancing back at the sky. "Just...be there for your friend. I didn't read what's there, but she said you're the only one who could help her. She's afraid of whatever evil force is in this town, too, and just between us-" he leans forward, facing me again. "I think she must've met the witch herself. She's going mental. So, make it quick. Thank you." Before I can reply, the messenger leaves once more.

I read her words while the nameless 'man of the cloth' was frantically orating about some nonsensical fear of a sorceress in London. What century is it again? The last witch I encountered (a rare, genuine one at that) was in my own line of work, nearly a hundred years ago. Even so, there was something in her letter that seemed as forced as my master's reaction, as though, in spite of evidence otherwise, there is actually some malevolent force at work here- other than me, of course.

Sebastian,

I normally wouldn't be asking you for help directly like this, but I really need you here now. You left me alone for a month! You said you'd help me. Was that a lie? I'm afraid I might be in some sort of danger. Some evil force, one that you know all to well, is at work here, and I need to know it won't hurt me. Tell Ciel that it's part of his work with the Queen for you to come back. Say whatever you need, but please, bring him back here, and help me. I don't want to go into detail, but I know you have the means to end this, even if it puts you at risk; You can deal with the church, like you've done in the past. My caretaker says he knows you. That's good, right? I think so.

Please, hurry.

- Victoria

I know what this is. That priest had something to do with it, and I think he might have had a hand at play all along. I turn as the sun rises fully, retreating into my present place of servitude, preparing to do just as she suggested.

We'll investigate this matter before Her Majesty even has to address it. I'm sure the corruption of the church will get a reaction from law enforcement soon enough.

It's not like there really is a witch in London.

I'm the only evil force here, and I'm far too busy to sink ships and curse people. I'm focused on something else.

As I've always said, I'm simply one hell of a butler.