Is This Fate or Misfortune?

His Butler, Fluent

December

The hound howled once again, a murderous, guttural cry that brought upon a foreboding feeling and anxious, apprehensive looks were evidently seen on not only yourself, but the servants who stood nearby, each of them staring up at Pluto who towered above on the clock tower, ignited the surrounding world in thick burning flames. Apprehensively, and with hands curled into fists at your side, the demon hound had captured your complete attention and you couldn't tear your eyes away from the hound.

Sorrow was not the only emotion that you felt in that current situation; fear had slowly crawled from far within, increasing to a high anxiety that you could not shake no matter how hard you tried to. Sure it was Pluto, but the collar had a full grasp on his mind making him unstable as he currently was. And that frightened you. He was unstable making him unpredictable. There was no telling exactly what would happen during the confrontation with the demon hound.

But what was also worrying was Ciel. The earl had unexpectedly ran off into the imposing dangers of the city once he had granted his permission to attempt to save Pluto. He shouldn't have left as suddenly as he had in this situation. The city was still burning. Debris breaking off from the buildings and hurtling down to the ground not to mention, Ash still lurked in the shadows, waiting for his chance to put his plan into action. As much as you wanted to, there was no chance in running off to find the earl especially with the Pluto being the main concern and all you could do was hope that Sebastian wouldn't let any harm come to Ciel.

What about those you knew? The people that you had formed relationships with were still in the city. Edward and his family as well as Soma and Agni. Where exactly were they? Desperately, you could only wish that they had managed to escape the chaos that ensued throughout all of London.

To the observer, the uneasy expression that was on your face was clear as day, apprehensive with the given situation and clearly worried for what to come. Though there was a small sense of relief at having the others at your side especially as the three had experienced in this kind of situation. But that didn't diminish the fact that Pluto was a demon hound. And against the likes of mere humans such as yourselves. No matter how much training each and everyone of you had this would be far from simple. However, Ciel had granted a chance at stopping the demon hound meaning that he trusted the four of you to get this duty completed.

"What should we do?" The distress voice of Finny spoke up, asking the question that was clearly on everyone's mind. "Pluto's become family. I don't want to kill him." Tearfully, he stared up the clock tower, his green eyes never once tearing away from hound; the heavy implications of pain and sorrow in them.

"None of us do," Baldroy inputted, still holding onto the rifle that he had been using earlier and he shifted it to the other hand, placing the empty one on Finny's shoulder and causing the younger boy to look up at him. "We all consider Pluto to be family and because of that we're going to do everything in our power to save him. Right Mey-Rin?"

"Right! We'll do our best!"

The maid removed her glasses, the once bubbly, carefree appearance falling away to a more mature and sharp look, hazel eyes slightly narrowed as they took on a serious look. She pulled out a long rifle, though if it was filled with tranquilizers or actual bullets you had no knowledge.

The determined expressions that were on their face as well as resolute words made a small smile on your face despite the dire situation. The feeling of hopelessness slightly dwindled and with it brought a sense of resolve. No matter what would happen, Pluto would not die today.

"I'm not going to give up on Pluto. I'll do everything in my power to bring the Phantomhive estate back to the way it was."

Determined smiles grew on their faces becoming more unwavering with their decision to save Pluto and they each seemingly to pick themselves up, straightening up as they tightened their hold on the objects they were carrying.