Being Human (A SebaCiel Fanfic)

Painful Memories

Painful Memories

Ciel's Pov

I woke up with a gasp, leaving one nightmare only to enter another one. My current tormentor stared down at me with a smirk, reaching through the bars of my cage to pet my hair. "Aw, did little Phantomhive have a nightmare? Poor boy."

I looked in disgust at his hairy arm before biting it as hard as I could. Blood spurted into my mouth and burnt my tongue like acid. Ew.

"Ow! God damn it-" Dexter reeled back with another howl and cradled his bleeding arm. He glared at me as he reached in my cage again with his good arm, yanking me forward by the throat. Cold bars grated on my cheeks. "Listen here, boy. You're lucky that I gotta pretty girl waiting for me, otherwise you'd be dead meat. You will not touch or disrespect your elders, got that?"

I gritted my teeth, making sure not to break eye contact. When I didn't answer, he reached behind him for his knife and positioned it right above my good eye. I felt the tip scrap the edge of the eye and I held back a flinch.

"Understood?" he snarled. I nodded. He released my shirt with a flick of his wrist. I fell to the ground, scooting as quickly as I could into the corner. My back hit the cell bars with a painful clunk after moving only a few measly inches. There wasn't much space in the cell, hardly enough to move. But I preferred to be as far away from that maniac as possible, even if was only by a couple of inches.

Dexter turned away from me and started rummaging through his desk drawers, presumably to find the cologne that made him reek of dirty socks and skunk. I winced and attempted to back into the cell's bars even further. Whenever he sprayed that vile stuff, it always made me sneeze, which led to me being punished. Dexter was always complaining about how much of a burden I was due to my constant sneezing in his dusty basement, to which I always replied that I wasn't here to please him. I had no choice in coming here, and I didn't plan on being the good little boy he wanted me to be.

Sooner or later, he would probably get tired of me, and I'd be sold once again. Ever since I was captured a year ago, it had been constant auctions and tormentors, nonstop pain. I'd lost count of how many people had bought me, but the multiple scars lacing my body showed that it was a lot. My life had been a living hell ever since he left. My gut shriveled.

Sebastian. . . why did you leave me? Why?

I wrapped my arms around my knees and shivered. "Sebastian. . ." His name was all I had left; I didn't even have him. He promised to never leave my side, and I believed him. 

Demons were liars.

I could understand if he left because he was sick of me. Having remained at my side for longer than intended, he had probably just wanted to consume my soul and move on. But that's the thing.

He didn't take it.

He disappeared one morning without a single trace. He didn't respond to my callings. He was just. . . gone. That day was when I realized how much I had started to care for my demon butler, no matter how hard I tried to be cold and indifferent towards him.

I loved Sebastian Michaelis, a sadistic and unloving demon. 

He was my best pawn, and he betrayed me. Just like all the others. It didn't help that I had somehow fallen in love with said pawn. The knight unknowingly became the king's support, and the king was found to be utterly useless without him. 

I was taken a few weeks later.

A spritz in the face brought me out of my reverie. My eyes stung from the stench. I sneezed at the perfume filling the cage and covered my nose.

"I'm leaving, Phantomhive. But don't get upset, I promise we can finish what we started yesterday later."

Tiny shudders ran down my spine. I could see his whip laying on a table a few yards away, coated with dry blood. The slashes drawn in my skin throbbed painfully at the reminder.

"Vas te faire enecule," I said. "Pourrir en enfer." 

Dexter gave me a blank look, and I couldn't help a small smirk. Sebastian teaching me French was a smart move.

"I don't know what that means, but it better not be insulting or else you'll be in a body bag by morning. Got that?" He didn't wait for an answer, turning away and climbing up the stairs. He was gone before I had the chance to blink. Staring at the door he had left, I hopelessly wished he would never come back. But he always did. I was never truly alone, and yet I was more alone than ever.

Curling into a pathetic ball on the floor, I held myself tightly to preserve warmth. My teeth continued to chatter. I squeezed my eyes shut, but sleep wouldn't come. I attempted to imagine that I was back in my real bed, under my familiar duvet. It was mildly comforting until I opened my eyes to see dull cement. 

My new home. The Phantomhive manor was nothing but a sweet dream.

*****

I had managed to slip into a fitful sleep when Dexter came back. A scowl was on his face. He slammed his wallet on the table, muttering something under his breath. I pushed myself up with a grim smile. "Did courting that girl not go as planned? Did she realize how much of a scumbag you are and make a run for it?" No response. My smirk widened. "I pity you. You are so unloved in this world that you have resorted to buying your own company, a fifteen year old boy at that. That's truly pathetic." Another silence was all the confirmation I needed.

The cage door opened with a creak; an end to my small victory. Dexter dragged me out by my hair, reaching out blindly for the table. The rusted chain that prevented any means of escape yanked on my bruised ankle, earning a soft whimper from me. A hard shove, and then the ground was flying towards me. I felt my chin crack against the cement as pools of black spilled over my vision like ink. I gagged on the thick blood filling my mouth.

The whip was in his hand when I weakly twisted to look up at him. He was shaking. "S-Shut up! You little brat, you have no idea what you're talking about- You're the one that's unloved, not me. If someone actually loved you, you wouldn't be here." 

Dexter's creepy grimace was all I could focus on, everything else was spinning and swirling. And I could see the whip. That was crystal clear in my vision. He raised his arm, and I folded into myself on reflex, waiting for the leather to slice into my damaged body once again. 

Seconds ticked by. The whip didn't come. I looked up slowly, confused. 

"My, my," a familiar voice said, "hurting my young master, I see. I'm afraid this will not do, not at all."

My heart stopped. "S-Sebastian?" 

—-

Ahhh!!! More than 50 reads! I can't thank you guys enough! Thank you so much for giving my sucky writing a chance :)

 Also: This fanfic will be more of an OVA, not necessarily following the story line. Just assume that it is a little more than a year after the Book of Circus timeline. (No manga events happened after BoC in this fic.) So Ciel is around 15. (Don't judge my math calculations, I know this is probably incorrect; DON'T JUDGE) Maybe a year after Book of Murder? I don't know.

Was that confusing? Probably? Oops.

Well hopefully this chapter was okay. I'm sorry if it was terrible. Please leave an opinion, I'd seriously appreciate it!
Oh, also: The French Ciel says in this chapter you'll have to look up for yourself if you want to know what he said. I wrote this a while ago and I don't exactly remember what I made him say... oops.