I apologize about the odd update earlier. I was in the middle of editing and accidentally deleted the second chapter. When I re-posted it, the system pushed the story up to the top of the list.

I haven't heard from many of you, but I hope you guys are enjoying the read :)

And, without further ado:

Undefiled Sin

Chapter 3

Ciel awakened to the stench of burning flesh.

Roaring flames the color of phoenix feathers sank their fiery talons into the wood, stone, and bamboo of the house. Bodies lay strewn upon the ground in a chaotic pattern – empty, soulless, mutilated. He could only guess at their identities, for their skin was melted away along with their faces. A flood of garnet blood soaked the walls and floors, the sticky liquid boiling in the raging heat. The inferno gave birth to billows of tar black smoke, filling the air with caustic poison.

The scene quickly pulled him from the dredges of sleep and exhaustion into a waking nightmare. At last, facts stabbed into the murkiness of understanding with unerring accuracy. These were his home, his room, and his servants! His mouth opened to accommodate a scream of denial when something covered his lips - a pale, clawed hand. Someone held him aloft; his feet dangled uselessly. Panicking, he struggled to get free.

"Be still, my Master. The intruders have not left yet." Through the deafening torrent of splitting wood, collapsing foundations, and crumbling paper, he heard the command as clearly as he would have in an environment of total silence. The low voice had whispered the words right against his ear - a voice he recognized immediately.

"Sebastian?" he tried to ascertain. The hand muffled the sound with ease. Instead of a response, he heard a low chuckle in the same place - so close to his ear that the puffs of air disturbed the fine hair resting against his cheek. He looked down and saw that he still wore his sleeping yukata; the white robes were stained in various places with black soot. From what he could immediately see, they were hiding in a space between the storage closet and the guest room. Only a sliding door provided a thin barrier between them and the blaze. The rice paper on it was already burning away. Yet, oddly, he did not feel pain.

Though the hellfire should have been close enough to burn at his skin, it stayed just out of reach. Though the smoke should have clogged his lungs and forced him to cough, it stayed just far enough back to allow him to breathe normally. Was this the demon's power? He finally looked up to gauge his reaction to this pandemonium. Sebastian seemed distracted. His eyes focused on something just outside the door. The flames reflected perfectly within the depths of his red eyes. Though he wore the mask of a human, he looked right at home among the violent golds and oranges. As though he felt Ciel's eyes upon him, he glanced downwards. His lips quirked up in a smirk before he turned away again.

Ciel did the same. The sliding door to the closet was opened just enough to allow him to see a part of the spacious guest room. He tried to look for movement, but couldn't see anything past the smoke and fire. Sebastian had mentioned intruders. Who? Had someone started the fire? Squinting to see more detail, he made out some of the victims' clothing. At first, he'd thought that the bodies all belonged to servants, but upon closer inspection, he saw that he'd been mistaken. Judging by their clothing, some of them were temple assistants. One of the bodies looked vaguely familiar. Though mostly burned away, he could tell that the clothes were those of a high ranking priest. After a moment, his eyes widened. He jerked away from Sebastian's grip; the sudden movement must have surprised his companion for he managed to wriggle free of one of his arms and shout:

"Yuki! Master Yuki!" He pulled one hand free and reached for the door. The bald head, now shriveled and pink; the jade prayer beads, now glistening with blood and condensed steam; the shining talisman of Amaterasu, now burning as bright as a brand in a lifeless palm – all were evidence that the man he'd seen just a short while ago had died a most horrible death. "Master Yuki!" the priest shouted hoarsely a split second before Sebastian's hand covered his mouth again. He tried to push away from the steel grip when the pain finally caught up to him. Everything slammed into him at once – the agony of his still healing injuries and the memories of the past few days. He shuddered. A series of loud, sharp, bangs resounded on the ceiling. Footsteps, he realized.

"Stay quiet now, my Master. They will not notice us here," Sebastian assured. His large hand covered his mouth and nose, making it difficult to breathe. Panic made this worse. The supposed intruders barreled down the stairs with all the grace of rampaging bulls. Their clumsy movements triggered the collapse of even more of the ceiling. He heard shouts of panic.

"Let's get out of here!"

"We have to make sure he's dead!"

"If we stay any longer, we'll be dead!"

Ciel tried once again to pry off Sebastian's hand. His lungs screamed for air; his heart pounded wild hooves against his ear drums. The horror of the situation finally sank in. Was everyone dead? The people he'd known for years – the servants who had taken care of him since his birth and the man who had helped him countless times with his teachings and duties – had been brutally murdered. That was their blood plastered on his walls, their skins melting onto his floors, their clothing disintegrating into nothingness!

"Take the chest and get out of here," a burly voice commanded just outside the door. Through the crack, Ciel saw the man's back. His haori was a dark brown; a single symbol was sown into the rough material – a purple snake wrapped around a jade pentacle. An image flashed in his mind's eye. He was forced to relive the worst night of his life, when men with the same symbol on their clothing had cut into his body and sanity. Anger – vile, noxious, fury – hemorrhaged from countless wounds in his heart. Like a tsunami, it engulfed his consciousness, until all he yearned for was death. Not his death. Theirs.

"I can't find the body anywhere," someone else complained from the guest room, then cursed as another piece of the house crashed to the ground. "Come on! I'm not staying here a second longer!" Running footsteps. They were getting away. Those who'd taken everything from him were getting away! This time, when he struggled, he felt no discomfort. When he bit the hand that covered his mouth, he didn't taste blood. He knew nothing except for the single-minded desire to tear those men limb from limb. He could see it clearly in his mind – how he would run them down, then pick up whatever he could use as a weapon and kill them in the most painful way imaginable. If it was wood, he would bludgeon them. If it was metal, he would run them through.

Although he struggled with all the wild ferocity of an animal who knew it was in the last moments of its life, the demon's hold on him remained as unshakable as a mountain in a storm. Behind his hand, Ciel shrieked and cursed, bellowed and threatened. In part, he again remembered his helplessness that night. The realization of his own weakness angered him even more. As he continued to fight his losing battle, the flames and smoke thickened. Even with what he assumed to be Sebastian's power keeping the deadly forces at bay, he began to cough. Above him, the demon muttered something he couldn't quite make out. At last, when the priest's sight began to blur, Sebastian stood and kicked down the fragile door. With inhuman speed, he leapt upwards and broke through the crumbling ceiling into the dark night.

Ciel grabbed onto the front of his companion's kimono and coughed violently as fresh air finally surrounded him. The demon chose a nearby pine tree bough as his landing spot. The young priest pounded his fist against Sebastian's chest with as much force as he could.

"You bastard! You let them burn everything!" he accused hoarsely between harsh coughs. "Why didn't you kill them?!"

"Your safety is my primary concern, my Master," the demon replied smoothly. "Had I attended to those men first, your life would have been compromised."

"You're lying…you're lying…" he ground out.

"That is impossible, my Master. I do not lie." Though Ciel wanted to weep, to mourn the loss of so many innocent lives, no tears came. He stopped fighting against the demon's grip. Hope for normality – a thing he hadn't even been aware of – drew its final, desperate, breath and withered away. He went as limp as a rag doll in Sebastian's arms, his head turning sideways to watch the final moments of his former life burn into oblivion. He remembered his trip to the mountain temple the day before – how he'd been ashamed of anyone seeing the unnatural being at his side. He remembered his own guilt and regret for submitting to weakness.

What guilt?

What regret?

What weakness?

Nothing remained.

Only an incessant thirst – a mania for the blood, pain, suffering, and annihilation of those who had murdered him and killed those he cared about. It didn't matter how he achieved this, or what kind of price he had to pay. For a brief, glimmering, moment he had thought that he could find the path to his pure teachings once more. But, with this…with this final push…he knew he would never be the same.

"Perhaps we should leave this area," the demon proposed. His voice sounded far away. In his bubble of grief, Ciel barely heard him. When the young priest didn't reply, Sebastian called to him. "Are you alright?" He didn't feel like he was. His body ached everywhere; his heart hurt even more. "We should find a safer place - "

"No," the boy countered, his voice devoid of any and all feeling. "Don't move. I want to watch it burn. I want to stay until the end."

"As you wish." Together, demon and child observed the fire consume the small house. They watched the walls dissolve into cinders along with all the mangled bodies within. By the time the flames died out, the sun peeked over the horizon. The flaming orb stained the land a brutal red, as though the sun goddess Amaterasu herself was painting a tribute to all the blood spilled in the name of human savagery while she slept. Ciel would forever remember that sunrise as both the end of his childhood and the birth of a life dedicated in a single-minded pursuit of justice.

"Sebastian," he murmured.

"Yes, my Master?" The young priest reached up and touched the demon's cheek. Slowly, he guided his face downwards until their gazes met. No smirk – no amusement reflected on his ethereal features. He looked empty, much like Ciel felt.

"Your eyes…"

"My apologies. I will change the color - "

"No." The demon raised a brow. Ciel brushed soft, silky bangs away from his companion's face. In that moment, Sebastian's eyes reminded him of brilliant mirrors. They reflected everything with stark perfection. Within, he saw himself contrasted against the morning sky and wondered just how far into his soul the demon could see. "Red. Like they are now," Ciel dictated. "Never change them again."

"I was under the impression that…"

"Red," the boy repeated firmly. "When I look into your eyes, I want to remember."

"Remember what, My Master?"

"Why I'm alive…" The demon inclined his head.

"Where shall we go now?" he inquired.

The boy shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"We need shelter, first."

"We can't stay in the city." For now, he would allow his enemies to assume that he'd perished. "How fast can you travel?" In response to this question, Sebastian smiled.

"Allow me to show you, My Master."

OOOOOOO

In a room shrouded by curtains and screens, a lone figure sat upon an ornately decorated, wooden, chair. Its feet were shaped like the talons of a hawk. The back was tall, much taller than an average chair. Next to it stood a table with the same theme of decoration. The figure reached over and pulled a smoking pipe from the surface of the table. Even in the darkness, the grey stream of smoke from the burning tobacco was visible.

"Is it done?" a voice asked, its owner taking a deep breath from the pipe before releasing a long puff of smoke from its mouth. Before this figure's throne, another figure knelt. Its posture was so subservient that its head touched the ground.

"As you ordered, My Lord. Everything is destroyed. The boy is dead."

"And the priest?"

"Burned in the fire."

"Excellent. Then you know what you must do now."

"Take the letter you gave me and deliver it to the Mikado?" The figure on the throne nodded. In the dim light, its long, jet black, hair shifted to accommodate the movement.

"Yes. By morning, the Imperial Court will have all the evidence they need to see that the boy has committed mass murder and burned down his home in a fit of madness. The Phantomhive family will be disgraced, and I will be free to regain the Mikado's favor."

"My Lord, may I speak freely?"

"You may."

"Why the Phantomhives?"

"Foreigners," the figure on the throne spat. "They never belonged in this country. When the Emperor let them into the city, he tainted all of us. As if that wasn't enough, their child was conceited enough to think himself above us. A foreigner become the Mikado's favorite? A foreigner become a Head Priest at the age of thirteen?" A fist slammed onto one of the chair's arm rests. "Never! Not while my family is here to put an end to it!" After a moment of silence, the figure on the floor spoke again.

"So, this was just to regain the Emperor's favor?" A beat.

"No. But, for now, that is all you need to know."

"Then, My Lord, I will go and deliver this letter at once."

"Do so and remember – should word get out of anything that you've heard here today, I will know who was the source of the information."

"Understood." With a flourish, the servant stood up and walked out the door. As he opened the door, a strip of moonlight passed over his face, illuminating a pair of different colored eyes – one green and one violet.

OOOOOO

To be continued...