Ciel also thought this was over. The final frontier, the final battle between master and slave duo – and that he won. The pain from the wounds Alois managed to inflict on him only seemed to sting as the adrenaline pumped through him like hardening steel. He felt invincible with his butler there, tossing the blonde around like a rag doll: an overbearing revenge for the previous events in this haunted place. He won.
Alois’ blood was stained on his hands. He would kill the Trancy Earl tonight. This was the end.
Then, as if slamming a book shut just before the final chapter, Claude Faustus returned to his master, blocking his pathetic body from view. Ciel’s eyes narrowed harshly, glaring at the butler as if that would give him any motive to move. Of course Sebastian couldn’t rid of him while dangling his master’s life on his fingers as well.
“Finish them off!” Ciel barked, swiping his hand demandingly toward Sebastian with the same eager, bloodthirsty look in his eyes. He wanted this finished tonight. He wanted to win—so badly, in fact, that his previous plan to escape was lost on him. The diversion, the breaking apart of the manor, stalling in wait for the right moment; it was a blurred fantasy that only his butler could have kept track of.
Sebastian, with Ciel tightly gripped to him, stood tall against Claude. The manor was continuing to self-destruct on itself, the walls dropping paintings and candles hard against the marble floor. Ciel couldn’t stand the wait, and was about to wail out another order, until Sebastian spoke up, just as sickeningly elegant, in response to the appearance of the other butler.
“While I don’t admire cutting visits short, I do believe it’s time for the Young Master to return home.”
No! Ciel’s eyes widened, his teeth gritting. Listen to me, damn you!
“What the bloody hell happened here?!” a man’s voice exclaimed outside, along with other concerned and sheepish chatter. This caused Ciel to break out of his angered glare, his head snapping toward the sound as the memory of his plan returned to him. As if relieved of that fact, his tense form relaxed, as his mind returned from the shallow depths it entered. Alois triggered something—and that did not settle well with him.
It bothered him. Immensely.
Sebastian took a step forward, then pushed off on his feet and launched into the air, gracefully moving to any windowed exit to remove them both from the scene of a “crime”. The townspeople were there—and what could Alois say? That the Phantomhive Earl blasted his manor to bits? It would sound ridiculous, like utter foolery that would ultimately backfire unto him.
Alois was alive, but terrified—surely, Phantomhive placed his pieces coordinately.
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