A/N: I wanted to explore some of what came before what we saw at the start of Kuroshitsuji and elaborate a bit on the start of Ciel and Sebastian's relationship in my own way. Theirs is an intriguing history, and it certainly keeps me interested. I hope you enjoy it.

Click. Click. Click.

"My, aren't you… a very small Master."

The sound of high-heeled boots drawing closer stirred Ciel from his stupor. The creature clad in shadows with feral eyes gleaming their amusement stared straight through him. Even in the haze of blood loss and shock, it was clear to him:

This was a monster playing in something like a human form.

The masked men filling the sacrificial chamber were no longer licking their lips in anticipation; the air was suddenly palpably tense and heavy. Hushed whispers; the stink of fear; all of it was pervasive and sickening.

Its voice rolled easily from lips curled in humor, as if all of this was some cosmic joke it was privy to. "You have summoned me. This fact will not change for eternity. What has been sacrificed will never be returned.

Now… Choose."

Darkness licking around it like an aura of otherworldliness, the demon waited.

Blood dripping from his middle, trickling from the corners of his mouth, Ciel Phantomhive made a choice.

When his voice left his lips, it rang true and without hesitation.

"THIS IS AN ORDER!"

The cultists had already begun falling backwards upon themselves as they realized his intent, clambering over the bodies of their fellows as they fled for their lives.

"KILL THEM!"

His right eye burning, he stared up at the ceiling, body shaking of its own volition as everything around him erupted into blood-curdling screams. A wet splash of blood - this time, not his own - caused his body to jerk as it splattered at his arm, but he did not look up or away from the singular point in the ceiling, the sound of his own labored breathing filling his ears. He was light-headed and dizzy as bodies collapsed around him in every direction. Men begged for their lives; men pleaded for their souls; men died as cowards and fools everywhere he dared cast his gaze.

So focused in trying to keep himself from losing consciousness, Ciel didn't realize things had suddenly grown silent around him. It was the jarring yet gentle touch - the scrape of an elongated black fingernail at his cheek - that stole him away from his momentary trance.

The demon leered over him, looking down into his face almost affectionately.

"Master," it purred, a finger brushing against his torn and bleeding torso to come away slick with blood. The beast looked at it appreciatively before licking it away. "What are your orders, Young Master?"

The fringes of Ciel's vision began to fade, and then there was nothing but black.

Sunlight burned the insides of his eyelids orange as Ciel slowly awoke from his deep, dreamless slumber.

For a few moments he simply stared at the ceiling, disoriented and mind in a fog. Where was he? How long had he been asleep? His entire body ached and went numb in phases, pulsing and changing with the rhythm of his heartbeat.

He was alive.

A hand came up to tenderly touch his right eye remaining in darkness. Someone had bandaged his head, covered his eye. Was he injured?

That's right. Memories came flooding back, visions unbidden unfolding upon his mind's eye. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but nothing but a choked sound left him. His fingers at his side gathered a handful of the blankets and crushed them tight in his fist. The sacrifice; the demon; the blood. The stench was still in his nostrils, sickly sweet, making him feel like retching.

When the light-headed rush finally began to subside again, he slowly sat up on an elbow. He was still tired, so tired, but he felt as though he'd been sleeping for ages. Rubbing his good eye, he glanced around him lethargically and tried to put the pieces together.

He was alone in an all-too-familiar setting - but it was impossible.

Ciel Phantomhive was laying down in the same bed, in the same bedroom, which had been completely demolished by the fires that'd destroyed his world and burnt away all remnants of all the happiness he'd ever had.

His eyes wide, he started to sit up to try and investigate, but his middle tightened, a throb of mind-numbing pain forcing him prone once again. His stomach had been slit open; they'd been pulling out his intestines. Someone had bandaged him, washed his filthy body, sewn up his wounds. Someone had taken care of him.

For a brief second, his heart skipped a beat, a sense of overwhelming longing afflicting his heart. If he were here, if the estate hadn't been burned to the ground after all, then maybe his parents--

The sound of the door opening made his heart jump into his throat. Time momentarily froze, and with it, Ciel made a thousand prayers - please, please let it be you. I need you so much. I need you to hug me and tell me that was just some long, terrible nightmare, and that everything is going to be--

The door quietly clicked shut behind him - the lone figure dressed in black.

Ciel stared into his face, the vague impression of his father striking deep into his lacerated chest. Who…?

"Good afternoon, Young Master," the man said, bowing subserviently.

"Who are you?" His voice was hoarse, still rough around the edges from sleep and fatigue.

"You have not yet given me a name," he replied, making his slow approach.

"Don't come closer," Ciel commanded; the figure halted where he stood, the mask of calm unfaltering from his face. "What are you talking about?"

"Perhaps the Young Master needs his memory refreshed. You've been sleeping for quite some time," the man remarked with a deceptively amicable smile that reminded Ciel of a fox.

Young Master.

The demon had--

Ciel clutched his head in a hand, staring wide-eyed at nothing. This man, was…

"Ahhh," the demon breathed. "See; you do recall." A gloved finger lifted, and the demon touched his right eye - a gesture to Ciel's own. "We are bound by a contract."

"C…Contract?" He choked on the word, hand coming to splay over his bandaged eye. What had he done?

"Yes," he replied, unfazed by Ciel's lack of composure. "I am your loyal servant. I will obey any order that leaves your lips until the very end." He laid a hand gracefully over his breast in emphasis.

"Why? I don't…"

The smoldering eyes of the beast lifted; try as he might, there was no amount of effort that could conceal the predatory, hungry look in the gaze he gave Ciel.

"Do you truly require me to repeat what you already know?"

Icy fingers curled at his chest; no, he knew the answer without hearing it. Ciel had made a pact with a demon, a monster, a beast. Nothing in this life was free. There were consequences for everything. His father had taught him that long ago.

"My soul," he answered quietly.

The man smiled pleasantly. "The Young Master is very perceptive."

"Then you are my slave," Ciel replied, finally permitting his palm to fall away from his face and rest at his side as some semblance of composure began to leak back into his body, a sense of his pride and self-respect returning.

"I much prefer 'servant,'" he said with a wry smirk.

"Call it whatever you want. You have to obey me, don't you?"

"Of course. I will do whatever you command, so long as you will it."

"…like a dog," he murmured to himself, eyes growing distant.

The man's head tilted a minuscule degree, eyes curious as they studied the battered child laid out before him.

"Your name is Sebastian," Ciel finally said, his eyes returning to that of the demon wearing human skin. The strength and intensity in his gaze was undeniable. "And from this moment forward, you are my butler."

Sebastian gave a smile that chilled Ciel to his core before he slowly descended to one knee, inclining his head in the deepest form of respect.

"Yes, my Lord."