Chapter Text
Papers fly. A crisp wake-up call—but I don't move. I don't open my eyes. It feels like I'm still only half-conscious. The voices are loud, too loud for this early hour, but my foggy brain can't latch onto a single word. It's my brother and Sebastian, I'm sure of it. Their tones are unmistakable. I stay perfectly still, feigning sleep. I'm too tired to get involved.
But then—one line slices through the haze.
"It was impossible for a human being."
Impossible…for a human? My thoughts snag on that phrasing, confusion clawing at my dazed mind. What kind of being would be able to do it then?
"Now I understand...you bastard..." Ciel growls from beside me.
"I have spoken the truth many times from the very beginning. Likewise, I have not remotely lied with respect to the results of our inquiry," Sebastian answers smoothly, his voice thick with smugness. "'Someone well-versed in medical science and anatomy.' 'Someone involved with a secret society or a cult of black magic.' And 'someone with no alibi on the nights of the murders.' The only human being who fulfills these conditions is the Viscount of Druitt."
A sharp crinkle—more paper thrown? Sebastian's just repeating things we already know. But something's off. He said the Viscount didn't kill the women himself.
Why emphasize "human being" like that? As if someone…wasn't?
Because humans are the only ones who can do this kind of thing...right?
"Indeed, you were telling the truth. However..." Ciel concedes, then snaps, "The inquiry was but a farce!" I hear the rustle of a paper snatched in frustration.
"I was simply following your orders, sir." Sebastian says.
Ciel growls low in his throat. Another rustle—he throws the paper, no doubt. "My, my. Are you taking your anger out on me?" Sebastian teases.
Oh, Sebastian. Always dancing on the edge, aren't you?
"Young master, I thought you kept me by your side knowing full well what I am like." Sebastian continues with infuriating calm.
"Shut up! I am well aware!" Ciel shouts.
I twitch at the volume—just enough to sell the illusion of sleep being disturbed.
"If you raise your voice any louder, my lady will awaken." Sebastian warns.
Well, too late for that.
I feel fingers brushing my hair—my brother's. "Don't worry, she sleeps like a log. Not even the servants can disturb her sleep." His voice is tired, but there's something fond beneath it. He's not wrong. I could sleep through a storm. But I haven't hit that deep sleep yet, not tonight.
He shifts on the mattress. "Is he...the same as you?" he asks next.
The same? Sebastian—like the killer?
Sebastian hums thoughtfully. "Hmm, no, he is not. I daresay someone like him being in the human world is unusual in and of itself but...He is neither a human nor a devil?"
My body stiffens under the covers. Human world? Devil? What the actual hell is he saying?
"Then, what is he?"
"He is a Grim Reaper..."
Grim Reaper.
Devil.
I think I'm going insane.
My brother isn't panicking. So he knows. He knows. And I...don't. My brain is racing. None of this is possible. There's no evidence, no science to back any of it up. This has to be some twisted dream. Or a hallucination.
They move. The bed dips—Ciel's getting up.
He and Sebastian continue talking as they dress and prepare to leave. When I hear the door click shut behind them, I shoot upright with a gasp and grab at my head. It's too much. Too fast. A migraine blooms behind my eyes.
No such things exist. Devils, grim reapers—it's all fantasy. Folklore. Myth. This can't be real.
Unless...I'm not in the past. What if I'm in some alternate world?
I shake my head hard. That's absurd. Utterly absurd.
I bolt from the bed and throw open the bedroom door. Screw subtlety. I slam it shut behind me and run to my room, yanking my robe off. There's just no way. Sure, Sebastian's always been impossible, but not inhuman. I pace, biting my thumb.
What if I'm not even on Earth anymore?
Science would've discovered another species by now—right? No creatures but humans, animals, microbes. That's what we were taught.
I scream. Fury erupts inside me and I punch the wall—hard. A sharp crack spiders through the plaster. I freeze, staring at the fracture in shock. I've always been unnaturally strong, but this… this is different.
Since Sebastian arrived, my senses have sharpened. I've grown faster, stronger. My muscles hum with tension as I lower my hand and stare at it.
What am I then? I'm not just a girl from the future anymore. Maybe I never was.
I rip open my wardrobe and dress with swift, practiced movements—bra, underwear, black slacks, and the dark dress shirt I bought from the men's shop in town. My coat goes on next, then my cap. If I'm going to get answers, I need to see everything with my own eyes.
I lace up my boots and tighten the straps on my sword. It hangs across my back like a purse, the hilt just visible over my shoulder. I clip my hair back and throw open the door again.
Time to move.
I run down the front steps and into the night. The sky is black and moody, the wind biting against my cheeks. My breath comes in silvered puffs. I know where they're headed—it's not far. Twenty minutes on foot, maybe. Running will get me there faster, and the exertion helps burn off the panic and adrenaline surging through me.
I've trained for this. For moments like this. I didn't stop training just because Sebastian showed up. My mission never changed. Keep my brother safe.
I won't fail again.
Even if Sebastian is stronger than me—supernatural even—I don't trust any of this. Not yet. What does a demon want with my brother? If he saved Ciel, what kind of deal did that entail? What price?
I slow down, panting. Rain starts to fall again, light at first. I don't stop. I press forward.
Then—an ear splitting scream tears through the air.
I freeze.
My pulse slams against my ears. The memories return, sharp and cruel—of the old manor, of blood, of loss. I double over, trying to breathe. This isn't then. This is now.
I force myself upright and jog toward the source. The migraine spikes again, white-hot behind my eyes.
Voices—close now. I follow the sound into a shadowed alleyway, pressing close to the wall. I blend into the darkness, heart pounding.
There they are.
Ciel. Sebastian.
And two others.
My aunt. Except...not her at the same time.
One of them—draped in red—is Grell. Hair dyed crimson. A swagger in the step. He's flamboyant, theatrical—different.
My eyes narrow. Those eyes. Not human.
Not even close.
"I miscalculated. I never imagined there would also be someone by Ciel's side who could see through Grell's disguise." Madam Red smirks slightly.
…She knew? She planned this? My chest clenches so sharply I have to grip the brick behind me to stay upright. A tear slides hot down my cheek. She and Grell—no, they did this. They killed all those women. And they betrayed us. Her own niece. Her own nephew. Oh god. My stomach lurches.
"Madam, was of course, on our initial list of suspects. But...your alibi was flawless." Ciel's voice is unreadable, flat. Madam Red mimics his expression perfectly.
Shock hits me like a slap, and I know it won't be the last time tonight. Eventually, I started doubting her. Guess Ciel got there first.
"How could you, Ciel? You went so far as to doubt me, your dear aunt?"
I narrow my eyes. That fake-sweet tone? The way she crosses her arms? She's playing the victim.
"If the possibility of one being Jack exists—kin or acquaintance—it matters not. No human on the list of suspects could have committed all the murders. Of course, that includes you, Madam. But it is a different story with a reaper as your accomplice. If he can enter Mary's room in an instant without us noticing...he would also be capable of instantly transporting himself over the lengthy distance between the West end and the East end. And if a servant were to disappear from the party for a matter of minutes...no one would pay any heed." Ciel doesn't even blink. "Therefore, only the two of you can be Jack the Ripper. Madam Red and Grell Sutcliff!"
My jaw drops. Ciel, you mini-Sherlock Holmes. I'm in awe. Maybe Sebastian's "tutoring" is paying off after all.
The accused stands silently, but Ciel keeps pressing. "The victims in the Jack the Ripper case had something else in common, on top of 'being prostitutes' and 'missing their wombs'. All of them underwent 'a certain procedure' at the Royal London Hospital, where the Madam is employed." He pulls out a sheet of paper and unfolds it. "This lists those patients in the order of their surgery dates. The order of which the victims were killed corresponds perfectly to the order in which they went under the knife. Only Mary Kelley, who resided in that tenement, was on that list to survive and 'still survive'."
His eyes flick to the open doorway, just for a second. That must be where Mary is now—slaughtered. "But still...I was unable to save her."
I cling to the wall, furious. She took everything out on those women. Punished them for having what she lost. For choosing to let it go. It's twisted. I understand pain, sure—but this? This is evil.
Madam Red stares at the ground, her voice low. "How sad, Ciel. My lovely nephew...my elder sister's son...If you hadn't insisted on getting to the bottom of this, we might've played chess again." Her hand clenches at her side. Then she shrieks, "However, I will not yield this time!"
I gasp, barely audible.
Grell rushes forward—something flashes. My instincts scream. Chainsaw. That's a freaking chainsaw. But Sebastian is faster, intercepting it between his bare palms.
He pushes Grell back with impossible force. I can't look away.
"Wh-What is this?!" Ciel shouts, confused.
Grell grins, sharp teeth bared, holding that demonic weapon steady. Sebastian's tone is calm, but I notice the edge in his eyes. "All reapers possess a tool for hunting souls. Though this is my first time seeing one that looks like that...it is known as the 'Death Scythe'." He slicks back his wet hair. "The death scythe is rather troublesome."
Death scythe. A chainsaw. Yeah, no, this world is not normal. Definitely supernatural Victorian nonsense confirmed.
My knees buckle. I sink to the ground, numb. My hands are pale-blue with cold, but I barely register it. What the hell kind of karma did I rack up in my past life?
"Something as unfashionable as a scythe wouldn't suit me in the least, don't you agree? So...I customized it to my specifications! A 'death scythe' jussst for me, which plays the grandest harmony together with the death throes of a soul!"
...Cool. Great. Just what I needed. More reasons to never sleep again.
"Of course, its sharpness is guaranteed. A tool that only a god like me can wield to chop anyone and anything into itty bitty pieces!"
And there goes my appetite for the next century.
"My body's gotten all stiff 'cos I've been a good little Grell this whole time! Now I sooo want to work up a sweat with y-o-u!" Grell blows Sebastian a kiss. I want to gag and laugh at the same time. Yeah, this reaper's definitely into men. I don't blame him though, I mean, look at Sebastian?
Sebastian doesn't flinch. "Would you mind refraining from such sickening displays? Furthermore, I am on duty at the present."
"Ahh!~ You're so stoic! I can't get enough of this side of you either, Sebastian darling!" Grell coos.
I bite my lip to stop a laugh. This is not the time. But the nickname...and Sebastian's face. I'm going to implode.
"Let me tell you a little something, Sebastian darling—the color red makes me swoon..." Grell goes on about blood, beauty, and death like they're interchangeable. "...I will cut you open deep and splatter you in all the many shades of crimson and mess you up most glamorously, Sebastian darling! ~"
Okay, nope. Amusement over. That was horrifying.
Sebastian still looks bored. "A reaper is one who quietly hunts the souls of the dying. A butler is one who accompanies his master like a shadow. Your poor taste goes against the aesthetics of both and fair raises my bile."
Damn. That was cold. Even I winced.
"I worked hard as a butler for my master! I didn't wear makeup or dress pretty when I was at work!"
Wow. So brave. Give this man a trophy.
"I am appalled, how can you call yourself a butler?" Sebastian sighs.
Grell's response is a manic grin, tongue out, flashing the devil horns with one hand and gripping the chainsaw in the other. "Even so, I am still a butler for death!"
"In the name of the Queen and my own evil title..." Ciel removes his eyepatch. My breath catches as it drops to the ground—his eye glows softly, a pink pentagram blazing. "...I command you! Hunt them down!"
I slap a hand over my mouth. Sebastian's eyes...they glow red. His pupils shift, feline. That smirk. That presence. No way. Those are the exact eyes from my dreams. The man from my visions...it's been Sebastian all along?!
Oh god. What does that mean?
"Yes, my lord." Sebastian bites his glove, teeth sharp, tightening the fit as his eyes gleam. His smirk deepens.
I freeze. Shocked. Speechless. My mind spirals. Those dreams...they weren't dreams at all?
"Alright." Sebastian begins unbuttoning his coat and hands it to Ciel.
"What—" Ciel starts to ask, but Sebastian cuts in smoothly.
"So that your body won't become so cold. When we return to the mansion, I'll prepare some hot milk for you. I'll add honey or brandy to sweeten it."
Ciel says nothing, but Grell revs the chainsaw again. "Oya!~ I won't let you go so easily! Lately, I've only been encountering unsophisticated prey. My death scythe and I are unsatisfied!"
Grell leaps impossibly high. I crane my neck to track him. He slams down like a meteor, Sebastian barely managing to shove Ciel out of harm's way.
Stone shatters around them.
"If I am the one to be hunted down, then I'd rather be the one doing the hunting, little Sebast! Let us play a wonderful hide and seek!"
He charges. Sebastian dodges effortlessly, flipping backward on one hand, landing clean. Again. And again. Creating space.
"Don't be like that! I'm sure you'll become addicted to the taste of my 'God's scythe.'"
Grell rushes again—and Sebastian rips a lamppost from the pavement. Like it's nothing.
He raises it to block the blow. I gape. He's not just fast—he's inhuman.
"Oh! You're quite the man, little Sebast!" Grell exclaims, delighted. The chainsaw grinds against the pole. "However, this is the real beginning of the show! If you get struck by my 'God's scythe', that lamppost you have in your hands...would be no different from a tree branch!"
CRACK. The pole snaps. Metal splits like twigs. The scythe rips through—Sebastian's wounded.
Blood sprays. But then...something else?
I blink. There's film coming from the gash. Like actual movie reels. Spilling out of him.
Footage plays—servants, Ciel, even...me? What the hell?
Sebastian stumbles back, clutching his side, not in pain exactly, but rattled.
"...How is it?" Grell asks. "It's filled with dramatic pain, isn't it? That was the power of the death gods, 'Cinematic Record'."
Cinematic Record...huh. I stare, stunned. What the hell kind of world have I landed in?
"Death Gods can use 'Cinematic Record' to relive memories of those on the to-die list for assessment. What kind of person is he? What kind of life had he lived? Whether to let him live on? Or to kill them?" Grell continues his line of theoretical questioning. "The general saying that one's life flashes before their eyes just prior to death, that is just the death god replaying the humans' memories. We will use our scythe to sever the link between his memories and his soul, and this is how we 'end' his life."
I absorb the information, trying to piece it together. It's such a strange, clinical way to define dying. Morbid, sure—but oddly poetic too. A flickering of one's life across a celestial screen.
Still, I can't help but cringe at the idea of someone else, especially someone like him, poking around in my most intimate memories while I'm dying. A stranger rifling through everything I ever was? No thanks. That's a hard pass. Grim Reapers aren't supposed to be voyeurs.
"I think that is just a terrible interest, and this sort of spying activity...is really the worst," Sebastian says, his tone completely indifferent.
Wow. I actually agree with a demon. What a day...
Grell lunges again out of nowhere. "No, no! This is work, but...!"
"Right." Sebastian reacts instantly, having anticipated the strike. He shifts to the side in a clean, fluid motion, flipping to avoid the chainsaw's vicious arc. I mentally cheer—if he dies, I'm as good as dead.
No way I could take on that chainsaw-wielding maniac alone. Sebastian lands in a crouch, skidding slightly.
"A good man's past makes people curious!" Grell beams.
Sebastian's back is still turned when Grell seizes the moment and rushes forward, his speed impossible to follow. One second he's at a distance, the next he's right there, and Sebastian whirls with wide eyes, catching the flat sides of the rotating blade. He steps backward quickly, forced toward a corner, the blade whining in protest. I can tell it's taking real effort to hold Grell off—he's pushing with everything he has.
"It's been boring trying to find humans to play hide and seek with me, little Sebast!" Grell cackles as he drives the blade deeper. Sparks fly as the weapon scrapes brick. "Once struck by the 'God's scythe', regardless of memories, soul, or space. Even if it's a demon, it'll be sliced!"
Sebastian's eyes glow again in the dark—subtle, haunting.
I look away, forcing myself not to stare. If I do, I'll fall into them and never crawl out. Just as I look down the hall, I catch something that makes my stomach lurch—Ciel, talking to our aunt.
"Why..." Ciel begins, voice low.
"Why? You're asking me now, how do you expect me to answer?" she says with a dry smirk, arms crossed. "If you and I have become 'guard dog' and 'sinner'..." Her hand shifts. My eyes widen. She's grabbing something.
Without thinking, I move.
I sprint from my hiding place, flying past the brawl between Grell and Sebastian. I've trained for this. I live for this.
For the moment my brother might finally need me—not just as his ward, but as his shield.
"If you weren't a guard dog of this place and became the hunted one instead..." Her voice darkens into something raw. I'm nearly there, time crawling, every step an eternity.
"...then there would only be one path for you!" she shrieks, lunging at him with the knife drawn.
Before the blade touches him, I'm there—grabbing her wrist, halting the motion with my full weight. Ciel's eyes fly wide when he sees me.
"Auntie! Just stop!" I yell, eyes stinging with tears.
She whirls, startled by my presence. Then rage warps her features. She swings her other hand to slap me, but I catch that too, gripping both her wrists as tightly as I can. Her sneer burns into me.
How dare she? After all we've been through?
"As a doctor, why did you have to murder people?!" Ciel demands. My grip tightens, bruising. She stops struggling at his words.
"Even if I told a little brat like you, you would never understand!" she screams—and suddenly throws her body into mine.
The impact knocks me flat. Pain flares up my back and I lose my hold. She tears away and grabs Ciel by the throat.
"You would never understand!" she repeats, sobbing and shrill.
I scramble up and rush her from behind. My fingers clamp around her wrist and force her hand away from him. He coughs, gasping for air. Her face snaps toward me in fury.
"You! You! Are always getting in the way of everything!" she hisses. "I don't know why he took you in! Just die!"
She lunges again with the knife—but I feel nothing. No fear. I just stare, caught in a trance, weighed down by hurt. Her eyes flicker. Hesitation?
"Rina!" Ciel cries. "Sebast—"
Her hands rise to her face. The knife clatters to the ground.
Then, Sebastian's voice—sharp and heavy—cuts through the night.
"My lady! Young master!"
I feel him before I see him. Blood splatters somewhere behind me. The air twists. It's like being swallowed by that dark void from my dreams. I don't need to look—Ciel's face tells me enough.
"STOP IT, SEBASTIAN!" Ciel orders, panicked. "Don't kill her!"
I turn. Sebastian's hand hovers over Madam Red's head. His nails shorten, returning to a human shape. Blood coats his body. His chest heaves, and he's clutching his shoulder tightly.
"Sebastian..." I whisper, scanning for deeper wounds.
He meets my eyes, breathing ragged.
Grell's voice slithers back into the moment, making me jump. I forgot he was still here. "Heh! Little Sebast's endurance is pretty good! ~" he giggles.
I pale at the sound of his laughter.
"His arm was already useless, but he still had to go help these little brats!" Grell laughs cruelly, retrieving the scythe from the brick. "Compared to that, what do you have to say for yourself, Madam Red?"
She flinches. I want to hate her, but I can't. I still care, damn it. She curls in on herself like she's trying to disappear.
"Kill that brat already!" Grell urges, taking a step toward us.
Madam Red shakes her head, whispering, "Can't..."
"Eh?"
"So, I really couldn't do it..." Her voice cracks. Her hand grips her chest like it physically hurts. "I can't...kill these...children."
Ciel and I both freeze.
"You're saying this now? After killing so many women?" Grell hisses. She trembles violently.
"If you don't kill these little brats, it'll be your turn to be killed!" he warns. "And you have the help of a death god helping you too!"
Her fists clench. She shakes her head. "But," she breathes. "But! These children are my..."
And then—Grell's blade pierces her.
I see the moment the steel breaks skin. Blood arcs like water from a fountain, painting the air red. She crumples. The chainsaw pulls free from her ruined body.
I stare, frozen, as Grell smiles over her fallen form.
"How disappointing, Madam Red," he sneers. "I am no longer interested in an ordinary woman like you."
Blood drips from her mouth. Her body trembles, then stills. My mind shatters. A thin film rises from her chest—her life. It unspools in the air like Sebastian's had. I hear her thoughts. I see her pain.
So much of it I knew. But not the obsession. Not the loneliness.
Not the weight of loving someone who would never be hers.
Tears burn down my face. She wasn't evil. She was just tired—tired of losing, of wanting, of breaking. Her actions were unforgivable. But her pain...I understood it.
"I love the way you are being dyed by the red blood spurting out, Madam Red!" Grell cackles, snapping me from my thoughts.
I stare blankly. He keeps going.
"I am not interested in you who got carried away by meaningless emotions," he spits. He flicks her blood from the scythe, disgusted. "I helped you create alibis, just for you, I broke the rules of Death Gods and even helped you kill those women not on the death list. You have disappointed me!"
The rage builds.
"In the end, you are no different from ordinary women!" He rips her red coat from her cooling body, mocking her. "You are not fit to wear red. The curtains of this cheap, theatre act of your life falls now! Goodbye, Madame!"
He drapes her coat over himself like a trophy.
"Sebastian...what are you doing?" Ciel murmurs.
I'm not listening. My heart pounds so loud, it drowns out everything else. This...this is malice. Pure and furious.
My fingers wrap around the hilt of my sword.
"Like I said, take down 'Jack the Ripper,'" Ciel says behind me. "It's not over yet! Don't hesitate! Hurry up and finish him!"
My eyes lock on Grell's retreating back. I draw my blade, fury rushing in my veins like lightning. He won't get away with this. He won't mock her death.
I smirk as I dash forward. I don't know how, but my body moves effortlessly, light and fast.
I draw my sword mid-sprint and leap, aiming the tip straight for Grell's skull. His head snaps up, and for the first time—I see fear.
I will make him suffer.
Even if it kills me.