A Forgotten Deadliness (Black Butler) // *ON HOLD*

Chapter 2: Emily & the Earl Phantomhive

Vanessa - Dream

My head was pounding and my vision was hazy.  I appeared to be lying down and around me a group of voices were speaking simultaneously, merging into a melody with no words, only harsh sounds.

I groaned softly and tried to raise a hand to my head but found that it was restrained.  I tugged lightly in an attempt to free it and this drew attention to me.  A face came into my line of sight; a vaguely familiar middle aged man with a bushy moustache and greying hair.  "It seems 2510 is awake, we need to hurry," the man said.

"Sir, are you sure?" A voice asked hesitantly from a distance.

"Yes, we'll never succeed if we stop halfway."

"What?  What is going on?" I said, feebly struggling against the restraints.

I raised my head slightly, using all the strength I could muster.  The man with the moustache was holding a scalpel.  Panicking, I began to tug harder at the restraints and a scream tore its way out of my throat.  Abruptly, the restraints disappeared along with everyone else in the room.

Breathing heavily, I pushed myself up and off of the operating table.  My surroundings were foreign to me; a dark, damp room with a small metal tray of medical equipment.  I crept towards the single door and slowly pushed it open.  A corridor stretched out in front of me, nothing particularly unusual.  Cautiously, I took two steps forward and the corridor melted away.

I was standing on the porch of a quaint cottage in the countryside.  The sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the dim room that I was previously in.  A lush green lawn spread out in front of me, to the right of the cottage was a small patch of multicoloured flowers and to the left a brilliant lake, sparkling in the midday sun.  The gorgeous scenery had stolen my breath away and any previous worries I'd had vanished completely from my mind.

"It's a lovely day, Emily," a voice said from the shadows of the porch.

"Indeed it is, brother," I answered.  A young man was leaning against the wall of the cottage, however his face was shrouded in shadows, concealing his identity.

"I miss you, Emily," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.  "It's time for you to come home."  Suddenly, I felt very cold.  Any heat the sun had been giving off was gone and the air was crisp and cool, causing me to shiver violently.

I took multiple steps backwards, even though I was already a distance away from the man.  "My name isn't Emily," I said firmly.

"No, of course it isn't," the man said frostily.  "You're bleeding by the way."

I looked down to find that he was correct.  A crimson stain was spreading outwards from the centre of my chest, staining the white dress I was wearing.  Despite the obvious injury I had, I felt no pain. 

The scenery around me turned a dull grey as my vision blurred and I fell.

Present

Gasping, I woke drenched in sweat and I clutched at my chest, checking that there was no wound.  Breathing a sigh of relief, I flopped back down on the pillows, willing myself to relax.  After my heart rate had slowed considerably, I began getting ready to start the day.

I'd been working at Undertaker's shop for a few days now and was beginning to settle in to the routine.  Undertaker dealt with the dead whereas I completed small tasks such as cleaning his equipment or travelling into town to buy anything he might need; Undertaker was a busy man and I was amazed at how he was able to get all of his work done on time.  Originally, I'd had my doubts working for him but he had kept his word and I was willing to trust him up until the day he broke it.