Author's Note: I'm back with something a little different. It's quite interesting to look over my writing and see how it's progressively gotten darker over the years, actually. But here we are. Although I've written fluff in the past, I've always liked the idea of portraying Sebastian as a hungry demon as that is essentially what he is. So this is a bit of an experiment, if you will, and I'll see how far I go with it. Hopefully it should be interesting. Essentially an AU, in which (if things go to plan) we should see Ciel age over time and witness how the dynamic between master and servant changes. I was considering starting with Ciel even younger, but then realised that if I did that, there would be a lot of dialogue taken out that's included in this chapter.

I believe that Ciel's character in both the anime and manga results heavily from the tragedy he was forced to suffer, so here I've tried to experiment a little by mixing the innocence we see of him in flashbacks with a little sharpness, which in my mind is a natural trait. So that's that explained and, on with the show I suppose. If I write any more, I suspect that subsequent chapters will be longer.

Warnings: Reference to demons and a short bible excerpt at the end, and gore at the end as well. And this is only the beginning, I'm afraid. I expect things will get more disturbing later on. You should also be aware that there will be frequent moments of Sebastian/Ciel in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji in any way.

Caym

[alt. title: The Boy's Crow]

Little hands clutched at the dewy grass by the boy's side in delight, clumsy fingers running over each blade as though exploring, as though hoping desperately for some enthralling difference. Large, azure flickered over all that the garden had to offer, glancing off the trickling water in the fountain and the gently swaying trees, watching as the golden sunlight filtered through the crisp leaves of the morning. All too quickly, a violent cough wracked the boy's small frame and he sat up straight, back arched forwards a little in an attempt to clear his lungs. The pretty eyes squeezed shut and the starfish hands clenched into fists around the grass in discomfort. However, this soon trickled away and, with childish simplicity, the boy went back to studying his surroundings.

Ciel Phantomhive liked being outside. His favourite time of day was the morning, just after breakfast, when his smile could convince the servants to turn a blind eye to their little lord slipping out through the back door to enjoy the sunshine and the light breeze. More often than not, his parents would scold him gently for this, telling him that he was still too ill to be venturing outside, particularly when the wind would pick up a little. And, being the child that he was, Ciel was less than stealthy when it came to these operations and the grass and mud stains smeared on his milky shins and on the bottom of his trousers and the pointy, little elbows of his smooth white shirt would give him away. Even so, his mother was quick to forgive and thus the little boy's simple pleasure would be allowed almost daily without punishment.

Today was no exception. When one wandered across a small bridge at the far end of the garden - as Ciel had chosen to do today, not for the first time - they would be treated to the view of the edge of the forest that surrounded the Phantomhive manor. At this border was where Ciel had parked himself for the morning, in the murky, greyish shade that those few trees at the edge of the forest had to offer.

It was funny, Ciel thought, how different it was here in comparison to the family's main garden, where the sun fell unabashedly. Here, he could see the gentle shadows of the forest, a small amount of morning mist winding its way like a pit of snakes around the bases of the tree trunks. The garden and the forest were in such close proximity, yet there was such a stark difference between them. Ciel supposed that most boys his age (that grand age of eight, the importance of age ten looming impressively over him in the not-so-distant future) would be a little frightened of the forest. But not him. The forest had a certain solitude to it, a certain quiet that could not be found within the impressive garden. Here there were no windows. Here, no-one could bother him as he was left to his thoughts.

At least, that was how things had begun.

Never before had Ciel Phantomhive heard a twig snap under another being's weight in that great, desolate forest. Never before had the boy even considered that he was not the only one enjoying the solitude of the woods. At the crack somewhere to his right, Ciel's head jerked up from where he had previously been watching his own hands make their imprint in the grass. His body thrummed, every sense on the alert. Several more rustlings and snaps followed and the boy's head turned, expecting (or perhaps hoping) to see an animal beside him, a stray cat perhaps or even a bird that had become oblivious to his still form. What he had not expected to see was the pair of glowing, deep red eyes peering out at him from the gloom.

The eyes regarded him evenly and from what he could see, the pupils were slitted like those of a cat. The eyes blinked vertically in the same manner as a bird and Ciel felt his breath hitch in his throat in panic. Judging by the height the eyes were at, the creature was tall - he had never seen an animal or bird that large before, and certainly not with those eyes. Too timid to call out, yet too startled to run, it was all Ciel could do to simply sit and stare back at the eyes that watched him.

The creature, whatever it was, took a step towards him and a human figure seemed to detach itself from surrounding shadows, at least... somewhat human. There were the extended limbs - two arms, two legs - the torso and the head. Yet something was simply off. The surrounding area was quiet; not a bird nor mouse nor squirrel in sight and, for some reason, Ciel very much doubted that there were even any insects in the near vicinity. More twigs snapped and leaves rustled as the thing approached and the boy felt his body grow instantly cold, as though he were sitting in the garden in mid November rather than the early summer months. The creature drew nearer and it appeared to be... smoking, somewhat, the thin, wispy tendrils rising from its shoulders and coat, hovering around its wrists. As Ciel's eyes fell lower, he saw that its fingers elongated into talon-like claws rather than human hands and a thrill ran through him at the thought of the damage those claws could do. His mind screamed at him to run, and yet his body was frozen in place. The feet were clad in spiked boots, the heels of which looked more like weapons than any imaginable fashion statement. But it was when he gazed at the creature's face that Ciel's heart truly raced. It was human, and yet it was further from human than anything the boy had ever witnessed before. The skin was pale and without flaw, the features sharp and handsome, eyebrows dark and straight and the visage itself framed by feathery, soft black hair. However, upon closer inspection it was not only hair which framed the face, but what appeared to be decay upon the temples, hovering around the hairline and descending down the neck, though this was soon covered by a mockingly priest-like collar. The thing's lips parted and two small, fang-like teeth made themselves apparent, barely touching the lower lip as it smirked. And then it spoke in a voice made of false softness and poisonous honey, the arsenic in the sweet French pastry.

"What a lovely child you are."

For a moment, Ciel could only sit and stare at the thing before him, suddenly terribly aware of the rise and fall of his breastbone and how the creature eyed in almost hungrily. But steadily, the initial fear was being replaced by skepticism.

"Who are you?" he demanded, pushing the thin, reedy voice out through his lips. He knew that his voice was terribly feeble and, not for the first time, he envied his father, the man with the smooth, calm, yet imposing voice that Ciel felt he would never master. He knew that the question he perhaps should have asked was 'what are you?' but he was a Phantomhive and had been raised on manners and decorum. He attempted to regain control of himself, little shoulders straight and chin pointed upwards with pride, yet he knew he still trembled.

The thing halted for a moment, seemingly surprised at the boy's little display of dignity, but then the crescent moon smirk returned to its face. "I am whatever you want me to be."

Ciel was confused by this, but continued nonetheless. "Don't you have a name?"

"I do, but I fear it would be much too difficult for you to pronounce."

Affronted, Ciel was quick to bite back, "I'm eight-"

"Eight years old, yes, I know," the creature interrupted him smoothly, "And what a grand age it is as well," he continued in a low hum, as a means of placating the offended boy and quickly cutting off the stuttered 'how did you-?' "What I meant was that, I do not believe a human such as yourself would have the ability to say my name, do you see?"

"In that case," the boy began, his frame settling noticeably, as this thing had not yet tried to harm him as he had previously expected it would. Slender fingers knotted back into the grass by his sides and he stared down at this, as though finding it far more interesting than the creature before him. "In that case, I suppose that you would not be able to pronounce my name either, seeing as it's a human name." Large blue eyes peered back up at the creature, slightly narrowed in suspicion to find that the burning red eyes had seemingly not detached themselves from him.

"Ciel Phantomhive," the thing responded, its quasi-grin widening slightly as the mouth curved upwards at the corners.

Ciel knew that he should probably question how the creature knew so much about him, however, he could not will himself to discover what the answer was. Instead, he stood, drawing himself up to his full, if less-than-impressive, height staring at the thing before him evenly, even though the small hands which were clenched into fists trembled at his sides. "Well that's hardly fair," he stated. "You know my name, but I don't know what to call you."

"I have no given name to your kind," the thing countered, "Perhaps you should choose one for me."

"That wouldn't make any sense. You only choose names for things that you own. I don't own you," Ciel sighed. Surely this was common knowledge.

"You could own me, if you so desired," the thing said lowly, softly. "Surely you would like a friend. It is unnatural for little boys to be locked away from others."

And even more unnatural for little boys to converse with things that aren't human Ciel's mind argued back, though he did not comment, instead simply regarding the creature with shrewd eyes and sitting back down with a childish, overly-practiced grace, as though encouraging it to continue with this new thread of conversation.

"It must be dreadfully lonely," the creature continued, coming forward and crouching before the boy, filling him with the innate urge to scurry backwards and away, yet he stayed put. One obsidian talon came forward and when Ciel looked closer, he could see somewhat of a gradient between the snowy white skin of the finger and the pitch black of the nail, as though there was no border or cuticle of any kind. The tip of the talon traced idle patterns on the boy's ruddy, bared knee, held at a crook so that the available sun picked out the little indentations made by the matted carpet of grass beneath him, forming a lattice down the side of one milky leg.

"Sometimes I go out with my parents. And I have servants," the boy protested, but he was quickly cut off, the red eyes flickering from the presented knee back up to the boy's face and the lips curving once again.

"Obligated to keep you company," the thing stated firmly.

"And my family."

"The same."

That silenced him swiftly. Family were supposed to love each other. Lizzie loved him, his parents loved him. Unless, of course, that was simply due to the fact that they were family, due to some natural instinct, or some unspoken social rule...

"All that is required of you is a little deal," the thing pressed onwards gently.

"Who says I want friendship anyway?" the boy retorted.

"Then the bond needn't be one of companionship. Power, perhaps? Wouldn't you like that? To be big and strong like your father?" The creature pressed, talons still doing their light dance over Ciel's knee bone and the boy's eyes widened just slightly in interest.

"You can give me power?"

"Of course. I can make you a great man, ever the faithful dog by your side."

"Hm. Dog. Perhaps that should be your name. No, better - if you were to be mine I should call you Sebastian," the boy mused, his own lips twisting just a little now. "But anyway, what's the price? You said that I would have to make a deal. What do you want?"

A muted laugh emerged from deep within the creature's throat and for the first time, the eyes glanced downwards and another set of eyelids were visible, these ones fringed with thick, black lashes as opposed to the odd, vertical ones that boy had spied earlier. It glanced upwards again and that talon lifted from the boy's knee, instead coming up to trace down the curve of the plump cheek instead, from just below the large, cerulean eye to the jawbone. "That isn't something for you to be concerned about now. Your payment will not be due for a long time yet. I assure you, it is no hefty price. Now, do you accept? My power and my companionship?"

Ciel Phantomhive threw one backwards look towards his house, his home, his source of security. Every warning fed to him rushed back into his mind in fragmented sentences and morals don't-talk-to-strangers-don't-go-into-the-forest and rapidly slipped through his grasp like droplets of water.

"Yes, I accept."

"Excellent," the creature purred, "Now hold still - this will hurt."

Ciel had no time to question what the thing meant, before one long claw was plunged directly into his right eye.

It was agony, pain beyond any of that which the boy had ever known before and, to his utter horror, he realised he could hear it, could hear the talon being plunged into the socket, could hear the pop of the vitreous humour and the scratching of the claw at the optical nerve, as the thing seemed determined to not only blind him, but reduce his eye to nothing more than useless, blended matter. He was too shocked to scream, too repulsed to pull away. His only reaction was a sudden awareness of the bile crawling up his throat and at last, it seemed that his limbs were animated as he reached up helplessly to clutch at the thing's arm. A gurgle of distress forced its way up his throat and finally the claw withdrew. Automatically, Ciel's hand shot up to clamp over the weeping socket and he was barely aware of the blood stained hand coursing through the soft down of his hair, the monster's voice speaking lowly. "Yes, a lovely child indeed."

:: ::

1 Peter 5:8

"Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour."

:: ::

Context Note: As you can see from the title, I've made references to the demon Caym (or Caim), the President of Hell, who in many texts presents himself as a black bird, or a well-dressed man with the head and wings of a crow, hence why I made the connection to Sebastian. Furthermore, he is a good disputer and gives true answers regarding things to come. In pre-Christian Celtic cultures, he was seen as a spirit of protection, or a defender. I have no idea if the character of Sebastian was in any way based on this demon, that's just my interpretation. There are a few similarities which I found interesting, so after a little research I decided to use the parallels I found.