Anora and the Serpent: A Black Butler Fanfiction

Chapter One

It was a cold morning. It always was in the gloomy city of London. It wasn't anything extraordinary, just a gloomy city with a looming, ever-present darkness. The streets were all slightly damp from yesterday night's rain that poured down heavily and the civil servants and laborers were all out early in order to begin their tedious jobs. Anora Trancy was amongst those laborers, even as young as she was. Her long silver-stained brown hair flowed beneath her shoulders as she hauled loads of trash from the bar to the back alley for pick up. She looked overhead at the sun but saw nothing but gray clouds that hung in the air. Sighing she turned to return inside but a loud voice stopped her.

  "Anora!" She looked up, took a deep breath, and proceeded into hell. When she got a glimpse of Mr. José's face she could tell he was infuriated. He raised his hand at her giving her no time to prepare. No one ever saw him strike her and no one ever would. "What did I tell you about the dirty glass bottles?"

  "Not to leave them out on the customer's tables." She whimpered weakly.

  "And where are they now?" He questioned aggressively. She didn't dare look up at his face or point in the direction of the location of the bottles like any of the younger children would have, but instead straight down at the floor as her head bowed.

  "On a customer's table." She responded even weaker than before. 

  "That had better change in the next few minutes or there are going to be problems." He whispered in her ear harshly.

  "Yes sir." She said before running out front and cleaning up the mess that was left. Even after that after she'd removed the glass mugs that were littered on the table she was still awarded a slap. Right across her face leaving hot, red skin behind as it's only evidence.

  Mr. José was always violent to her. Not just because of her misbehavior, but because of his sadistic nature. He would pull her long, silver hair whenever it came within reach of his prolonged fingers of evil. He'd slap her in abundance and often for no reason. And when he was drunk, he'd try inhumane things. Despite his sick ambitions and the fact that he was absolutely mad, Anora was obedient, and never tried to fight him back or challenge his authority or else she'd end up back where she started when her first master died, on the cold streets of London.

3 years later.

"Sebastian," Ciel said as he sipped on his tea.

"Yes, My Lord." Sebastian answered.

"There is still an unsolved string of crimes evolving the Earl of Trancy that died about eight years ago." He said as he stared at the print on the daily newspaper that lay on his study desk. "The Queen would not be pleased if this does not get wrapped up by the end of the year."

"Of course," Sebastian said. "The only target the murderer has are servants of the house of Trancy."

"Which means the servants must know something." Ciel concluded. "And there are no more of his servants left living?"

"There are quite a few," he said. "Most of them went into hiding after the death of their master."

"How can we find them?" Ciel asked.

"They are said to have a tattoo on their bodies, in the shape of a spider eating a heart."

"Disgusting," Ciel said mostly to himself. He sighed and set his teacup down. "Looks like we have some unwanted investigating to be done." He stood."Sebastian, prepare a carriage for London."

"Yes, My Lord."

___

Anora sat at the corner of the snowy street. She'd been jobless and poor for the last two months now. She was a maid in the Jones Manor until they left her two months ago because they were in debt and needed to fire her. Her stomach grumbled. No, she told herself, I won't steal again. But she had to do something or else she'd die a painful death. So slow, so cruel to die of hunger she reminded herself. She stood up and once again looked for any orphanage that would feed her, but once again they all refused because of the mark on her neck. The spider eating a heart.

"Get away!" One yelled chasing her out with a broomstick. "I don't want Scotland Yard knockin' on me bloody door just cause I helped you!" When Anora reached outside of the orphanage she turned to beg for mercy.

"Please," she begged. "I won't bother you again, if I don't eat now I'll die." The large woman slapped her in the face hard with the broom. She fell back on the floor, hard and blood ran from her nose.

"Good," the woman said. "Then you can just go to hell." A tear escaped from her eye and the woman slammed the door shut, leaving the girl with silver hair and a red short dress with only one option left: to Steal

___

"Young Master," Sebastian said as they walked through the streets of London.

 "What?" Ciel asked annoyed.

 "Most of Earl Trancy's servants have moved out of the city besides three or four of them." Sebastian informed.

  "Why are you telling me this now?" Ciel asked even more annoyed.

  "Why I just wanted to make things a little more interesting, My Lord." Sebastian responded with a smirk. Ciel sighed.

  "If we don't find them, I'm blaming it on you." Ciel threatened like a child.

  "And I'll take full responsibility, My Lord." Sebastian said.

  "Whatever," Ciel, who was getting bored of this conversation. "Let's keep moving."

___

  She walked up to a small vending cart with her red hooded, cloak. She spoke in her sweetest voice ever. Her white high buckled boots that reached a few inches above her shins crunched the white snow. Her red, long sleeve dress, which reached a little past her knees flowed in the winter's cold wind. It was trimmed with black and red roses and ripped due to plenty of use. It was the last momento of her very first master who died tragically. She was supposed to use it in battle to protect him, but she never reached the age.

  "Hello, Mr. Benjamin,"  Anora said with her prettiest British intonation. 

  "Oh hello fine lady," He said. "How may I help you?"  She pulled her cloak's hood off.

"Recognize me now?"  She asked him with a smirk.

"Wait a second you're-" but he never finished. In that instant, Anora stared him straight in the eye and tried her best to focus. For some reason, that trick only worked on him. She dug deep into his eyes with her mind. She saw the day she had first stolen from him.

  "I am your wife's best friend," she told him. He seemed to be listening and understanding. "She told you to give me a free loaf of bread."

"Oh I remember," he recalled (or so he thought). Right when she was grabbing the bread, she accidentally knocked over an apple and the vendor snapped out of her spell. No,  NO! She was so close and she wasn't going to give up her one shot of getting food. She grabbed the bread and looked back into his eyes. For such an ugly man, his eyes were beautiful. Right when she was about to run, she looked deeper into his eyes. A lovely teal with sparkles of ocean blue.

"Your eyes are beautiful," she said to him in almost a whisper, but she knew he heard he, 'because he responded in confusion.

"Huh?" But she had already taken off. As she ran her silver hair as well as her red cloak whipped in the wind.  Her cheeks were red and cold, but she tried to ignore it.

  And that was when the vendor realized what had happened.