A Box Of Kittens

Chapter 35

I want to take a little moment here to say something to all of you reading this: I love you guys, and thank you so much. You guys have been here with me through my struggles in life, and through your support, I have actually been interested in taking a career in writing. My writing quality has improved immensely over the year (almost) that I have been with this particular fanfic, and I really look forward to reading comments that you guys have left me. I still can't believe it. A whole year?! And over 30 chapters?! I honestly couldn't thank you guys enough, you have no idea how much you guys mean to me, whether you're one of my followers, a continuous reader, or someone who simply stumbled upon my profile and this story, I love each and every one of (and... there's a lot of you) and I hope to reach the end of this story in a positive way.

Sorry for turning into such a sap, I'm not usually this emotional in anything, and I am able to hide my true emotions extremely well- apart from those times where my mask tends to slip.

With love,
                                            ~Kira

Aleistor Chamber started to sweat profusely. In a dark room of the Phantomhive Estate, he was tied to a hard wooden chair chair unlike of that of the many plush, cushioned seats situated around him, and he was blindfolded with a rag and gagged with similar material. The thick ropes binding his wrists rubbed uncomfortably against the harsh material, and his legs became numb from the wait. Panicked thoughts flew through his mind as he looked around, trying in vain to find some sort of light source that would be able to be seen through his blindfold. It was silent all around him, the only sounds coming from his panicked breaths and his beating heart, which was beating so hard and fast that it might just burst right out of his chest, splattering the floor with crimson blood. His mouth was dry, as if the Sahara Desert inhabited the cavity behind his lips. There was a heavy scent of fire and candle wax, suggesting that there was at least some form of a light source illuminating the room.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, however, when a door right in front of his had slammed open, four figures entering the room. The door closed behind them, and the lock was set in place. Goosebumps pricked the skin of his neck when he felt the hot breath of someone behind him, and a silver knife cut away the blindfold concealing his eyes from what lay in store for him. The one thing hiding him away from the truth.

The room they were in appeared to be a guest bedroom. The grand four-poster bed stood directly behind him, it's plush, velvety pillows decorating the pristine duvet, curtains tied in place to the bed frame. Whether it was night or day, the Viscount couldn't tell; the heavy curtains blocked out all sound and light that came from the outside world. A vase stood on a wooden dresser to the side, decorated with an assortment of different flowers; sweet peas, lilies, tulips, the occasional gladiolus, carnations and a eucalyptus, he named in his head. The vase itself was also decorated in floral patterns. The room was quite bare compared to what the Phantomhive Guest rooms are known to be, but still beautiful, with the decoration and the Anaglypta-styled wallpaper.

He focused his gaze on the people in the room. The first was a tall male, his long, raven black hair framing the sides of his chiselled jawline, his wine-red eyes seemingly glowing in the darkness. He appeared to be a butler according to his attire. The next person, who was in the middle of the three in front of him, seemed to be a woman. Her (eye colour) eyes seemed to twinkle furiously at him, her (hair colour) locks falling briefly in front of her eyes before she quickly brushed them away. She wore a navy blue dress, decorated with small, white ruffles around her breast and shoulders, her waist small from the constricting 'death machine' that was around it. The other, another man, pushed his glasses up further onto his nose, causing the candlelight to shine on the lenses, turning them stark white for a brief moment, before returning to normal; behind such spectacles were golden eyes that bore deep into Aleistor's own ones. The person- presumably a man- that stood behind him had long grey hair that fell onto the Viscount's shoulder, and long, almost black fingernails gripped tightly onto the knife held at his throat.

"What do you want with me?" the Viscount choked out through his own fear, watching his kidnappers as they shifted from one foot to the other in front of him.

"I believe that it is us, rather the yourself, who shall be asking the questions here," the gold-eyed man sneered as the grey-haired one behind him cackled. The red-eyed man's eyes turned from that deep, wine-red colour to that of something that closely resembles the colour from a fuchsia flower, a cat-like slit forming in the middle as his pupil. The bespectacled-golden-eyed one followed suit, the colour glowing from behind his lenses.

The young woman stepped forward, bending down so that her eyes were level with his. He remembered seeing that exact shade and shape from behind a mask. "Starling...?!"

"What have you done with the Earl?" she said in a deadly whisper, gazing intently into the Viscount's eyes, attempting to trace an hint of lies in his next answer. "The Earl of Phantomhive," she clarified.

"The Earl of... Phantomhive," Aleistor gulped, shivering in fear as the knife dug slightly into the skin of his neck at his gulp. "I have never had the honour of acquainting the Earl."

The woman sighed. "I asked you if you had done anything to him, not whether you're acquainted with him. Answer the question properly!"

The Viscount's eyes darted around the room in a panicked frenzy, trying to find an escape from the people holding him captive. "I have never heard the Earl's voice, or he mine. I don't know why you've had me tied up."

The started to struggle against the thick ropes keeping his to the chair, his head shooting forward in distress. The woman backed up, shocked. Spit flew from his lips. "Untie me at once! I have no part in whatever scheme the person or persons who took the Earl!"

"Calm down, hihihihihi," the behind him yanked his head back, the knife digging deeper into his flesh, small droplets of blood beading around the point of the blade. "Wouldn't want to get worked up, what with the knife at your throat, and the bonds chaffing your pretty wrists."

The woman recovered from his outburst and approached him again, this time moving at a slower, more cautious pace than before. The Viscount looked up into her eyes, pleading and begging her. "My Starling, have to believe me. I had nothing to do with those vile creatures who had taken the Earl you are searching for. Please."

The woman sighed and, after a quick glance at the two men behind her, gave Aleistor a tiny, hopeful smile. "I believe you, Viscount. Unfortunately, you were at the top of our list on suspicious persons, given your interest of black magic and human trafficking. We will release you at once, and send you on your way back to your manor in a carriage. We apologise for the inconvenience."

After sending the shaking Viscount on his way, shooting many apologies after him, only for it to turn out to be a fruitless endeavour, the four of them glanced confusedly at each other. "I would've thought for sure that it was that villainous Viscount," Undertaker laughed, shrugging. "Whatever. On to the next suspect."

"This isn't some game for your sick sense of humour, Undertaker," Claude said, only to receive another shrug from Undertaker.

"It always turns out like this," (your name) laughed. "Ah, I swear, we should never suspect the Viscount in anything, it's never him!"

"Yes, I suppose that is true," Sebastian pondered, watching as (your name) was poked playfully in the side by Undertaker. She then proceeded to almost pounce on Undertaker, tickling him under the armpits. Undertaker's laugh echoed out into the night.

Word count: 1387