Fade - Chapter 28

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"An act of sacrifice?  As in, a moment wherein one undergoes trauma or loss for the sake of love?  That's how I can turn a demon into a an angel?"

"Correct.  At least, that is what my research found.  But you mustn't speak a word of this.  It's quite probable that we may be the only ones with this knowledge."

Sebastian whispers, cradling Ciel in his arms.  The room is black with darkness, a heavy blanket covering the two.  They speak in hushed tones, eyes darting across the room at any sign of movement.

"I see.  Plans are changing.  I'm curious, now... perhaps there are documents hidden somewhere explaining this further."

Sebastian runs his lithe fingers through shimmering cobalt locks of hair... subsequently nuzzling the boy closer to him.

"Either way the wind blows... it's high time we leave, is it not?"

"I agree.  This puzzle is coming together quite nicely."

He speaks to no one in particular, his voice echoing softly around the walls made of ash and bone... and the tears of the corrupt souls that float through the air on wings made of sand.

"We shall leave at the break of dawn."

~.~.~.~.

Sebastian awakes in the morning to a pounding headache and an empty bed.  His eyes are unfocused... his mind muddled.  He feels as though he's been drugged... or like he has just recovered from a heavy night of drinking.  His groggy mind reacts slowly to Ciel's absence.

"Ciel... Ciel?  Ciel!"

But soon enough he scrambles out of bed, frantically searching for his mate.  When there's no sign of him in the corner, nor the chair, nor under the bed... he opens the door with a bang. 

A note has been left on the floor.  It's crumpled... stained with red.  Blood.  It's stained with blood.  There's a trail of the crimson life-force dancing from upon the parchment all the way down the stone corridor and stretching out of sight.  The eerie image flashes off warnings inside Sebastian's head as he hastily unfolds the soiled paper.

'Come find me.'

"Damn it!  Damn it all to hell!"

He slams the bloodied thing down onto the ground and it lands in a mess of the dizzying red.  His head is spinning, his eyes ablaze with the hellfire of trust... the hellfire of loving something for once in his wretched existence.  He's brining up.  His bones are on fire.  They're cracking and breaking and leaving room for the mourning he is afraid he must endure.

He runs down the hall, following the crystalline droplets that reek of a certain bicolored-eyed boy.  His feet waltz through the stuff... tracking it further and widening the trail.  It sticks to his bare feet, sending chills of rage throughout him.  And he finally reaches the end of the hall.  He slows.  He's never been through this door.  His instincts are screaming.  His hands are shaking.  Whoever took Ciel really didn't take their time, now did they?  What if it's a trap?  What if as soon as he walks through this door someone waiting with an enchanted sword ends his life?  What if in attempting to save the child he disappears and leaves him helpless once again?  His hair stands up on the back of his neck.  He opens the door.

A gust of wind gallops past his ears as his eyes adjust to the ominous darkness ahead.  There's a light shining somewhere at the end of the endless pit of black, and so he steps into it willingly.  The only sounds that follow are his footsteps splashing through something beneath him and the door shutting behind him.  Everything is all to quiet and he wonders what the mysterious moistness under his feet is.  But he has no time to ponder and he rushes through the dank, dark hall.

There's another assault on his pupils as they dilate... encountering the bright, feigned sunlight that slips through the leaves of trees on the other side.  A forest full of every kind of tree arches and twines and reaches towards the sky in front of him.  The spotted shade makes the forest all the more intimidating and mysterious as he begins to make his way along the single path before him.  It curls around the greenery a little ways away... and when he turn the corner he sees the path winding and curving like a garden snake.  The blood on the grounds fades away into the grass as it grows higher... its unkempt appearance rustling with the chilling breeze.  The wood is gnarled and burned on some of the great oak he passes... the bark twisting and curving grotesquely.

It seems as though an eternity passes, though he finally reaches a clearing with a tall, brick building nestled and entwined within the grasses.  The red of the walls is dark and laced with vines, serving as an awesome background to the corroding black marble statues scattered along the grounds.  He steps closer.  He can almost smell Ciel.  He can almost feel him pulsing within him... around him as he walks towards the red-brick.

It's eerily quiet. Nothing is making a sound.  Even the wind seems to evade the clearing... for all that is to be heard is Sebastian's footsteps shattering the twigs and dried grass beneath his feet as he approaches the tall building.  Nothing leads up to the front door... no cobblestone walkway or paved path.  The grass and vines just simply grow and overtake the walls around the door.  And a pile of leaves and cut down branches rest right beneath the doorstep.  There's a cold, dark aura surrounding the structure... as if an eternal shade surrounds it and avoids any sunlight hitting the concrete.  His hands don't want to move.  His mind is screaming at him... telling him that this is all too ridiculous to not be a dream.  But his senses are telling him that he would've woken up by now... and the way his devilish heart is beating out of his chest attests to that. 

But if there's a chance... if there's a chance Ciel is in this building somewhere... perhaps tied to a bed or a metal slab... there's no way he is going to risk losing that child.  So he puts every single defense he has up.  He becomes like a fortress made of strength and determination.  He must not be hurt.  He must save his one and only love.  He must open the door.  He must.  He must.  He must not fail nor batt an eye.  He must not look to his feet as they begin scratching through fallen leaves and branches.  He must not shudder nor shiver nor shake.  He must be strong as he turns the metal handle to the door.  He must.  And he does.  He opens the door.

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