Episode 1 Continued - The Deal with The Devil
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"What... did you DO?" I demanded, lightly pinching my nose. "This is utter chaos."
"Well..." Max said, pursing his lips. "You did say to cook the eggs."
"On the stove," I reminded him, glaring now, "not in the sink."
"Well, I cooked them too much and they were dry!" he argued, brows drawing together. "So I thought maybe... if I added water...."
I sighed, shaking my head. "You are an idiot."
He slumped his shoulders. "How was I supposed to know they'd turn to mush?"
"It's common sense," I said, glaring again. "Whatever." I waved away any further responses. "Make it again. Like I told you how to, understand?"
"Yes, Sebastian." He lowered his head.
I turned and rolled my eyes, starting out from the room.
But I finally stopped, standing at the doorway. "Maddox."
"Yes, Sebastian?"
"Did you take care of the rats like I told you to?" I questioned, turning toward him.
His expression immediately masked, and my eyes darkened.
"Yes, sir," he replied, nodding, "the rats are taken care of."
"I swear..." I shook my head, "it's the only thing you're good at, Maddox." And I turned, leaving the room seconds later.
"Sebastiaaaaaaan!" someone called, making me gaze up in boredom to find a girl wearing an apron dashing down the halls. "Sebastiaaaan, help!"
She stumbled a little, dashing toward me like a rolling bolder.
I gazed down quickly to find her shoelace untied, and I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
But, immediately, I stepped out of the way, and seconds later her foot caught on her laces and she tumbled forward, crashing to the ground seconds later.
I stared down at her then. "What did you do this time?"
She rolled over onto her back, catching her breath. "I didn't know... that you weren't supposed to mix bleach with other chemicals."
I arched my brows. "Please, don't tell me that you mixed it with ammonia."
She gazed up at me then, cheeks lighting slightly. "Uhm... are those bad together?"
I just growled under my breath. "It's common sense, you idiot. Are you trying to kill our young master?"
"No, sir!" She shook her head. "Never, sir!"
I just rolled my eyes. "I have business to attend to. Now go get a gas mask from the laundry room and air the bathroom out."
She quickly hopped to her feet. "Yes, sir, indeed!" And she dashed away.
"Blundering idiots, I tell you," I muttered.
"Sebastian!" someone called.
God, I could never get things done, could I?
I turned to find Master Yumi walking toward me from the end of the hallway.
I faced toward her, bowing slightly before standing up. "Yes, master? Did you need something?"
"Ugh..." she pinched her nose, "this hallway stinks of poison. What did they do this time?"
"How about we go to the dining room?" I suggested, smiling a little. "Young Master does not seem fit feeling unwell from our maid's poor thinking."
Yumi just rolled her eyes and started back the way she came, and I followed her.
"Did you need something, master?" I said curiously.
"Yes, indeed I did." She tipped her head back. "I'm hungry."
I kept the smile. "You could've rung for me, could you not?"
"You are so nineteenth century. We have cellphones, you know," she replied, sighing. "Plus, I needed the exercise."
"You're plenty skinny, my lord."
"That's not what I was saying," she answered. "I just wanted to find you, that's all."
I just arched my brows. "Wouldn't it be easier if you just rang the bell in your room? That way you don't have to search for me?"
She just rolled her eyes. "That's boring."
"Oh," I replied, tapping my lip lightly, "you were bored, so you sought fit to hunt me down like your prey."
She just gave me a look. "Don't make me laugh. If anything, I'm the prey. You're only acting as my servant so you can eat my soul."
I kept the smile. "Assuredly, my lord."
She remained silent.
"But, if it's any consolation, I am part of your game right now."
Yumi glanced up at me.
"Phantomhives," I added, "are very good at playing games no matter how old they are, master. Like your ancestor Ciel always told me, 'You are a piece on my chessboard. A pawn awaiting the move by the king. And when it deems fit, the pawn becomes the knight; the knight that murders the opponent.'"
"Chess," she remarked sarcastically. "Now-a-days, it's all Candy Crush and Pokémon."
"You don't like chess, young master?" I wondered.
"No," she told me, stopping by the dining hall doors as I pushed them in, "I love chess. I'm just downsizing everyone in this world."
I smiled a little as she entered the room, and I let the doors shut behind me. "I played that Candy Crush game. It was very fun, if you ask me."
"You are interested in weird things," Yumi replied as I pushed out her chair, and she sat in it. "I personally find games like those insufferable, and... I prefer more... skill-related games like chess and checkers."
"What about Tick-Tack-Toe?" I asked as I pushed her into the dining table.
"It's rigged," she answered, waving off my question. "Any person knows that. Once you know the secret, you will always win. And once the opponent knows the secret, neither of you will win." She tipped her head back to look at me. "That, and it's childish. Four-year old's play that game to pass the time."
I just leaned down a little. "You really don't like new-fashioned games, do you, master?"
"No," she answered, "newer stuff is so boring and lacks talent. If everyone just played it smart life would be less boring. More challenge. I live for the challenge."
"Now, now," I answered, "if you didn't have your gracious demon butler, where would you be now, huh? Stuck in that freak-show? Unable to tie your own shoelaces?"
"Shut it," she waved off my response again, "don't flatter yourself."
"I live to flatter myself," I answered, standing back up.
But I just stared down at her. "You say you don't like new games and shows, master, you like the old ones like chess and checkers. You barely use your cellphone to communicate when you're trying to find me. You don't even watch TV anymore."
"I lived in a freak show," she answered, setting her cheek in her hand. "It's not like I had access to those things. I just learned to play tick-tack-toe in the dirt like all the kids there."
"And chess?" I suggested.
"My father taught me," she gazed up in boredom, "you know that."
"And yet you refuse to learn more about modern technology," I answered, smirking. "Now is it me who's living in the nineteenth century, or is it you, master?"
She glared. "Save the lectures, Sebastian. Don't you have food for me or something? I told you I'm hungry."
A small smile formed on my lips, and I turned away, pulling a large metal plate from a cart I left earlier, and slid off the metal top.
Her eyes widened at the sight of my homemade chicken soup.
"Boiled Potato and Chicken Chowder," I said, setting it in front of her. "Made by boiling freshly grown potatoes, tenderized chicken breast, and a cream base whipped with extra milk for fluffiness. On the side is a small, chef salad made with deli ham, freshly sliced cheddar cheese, bits of fried bacon, and sweet vedalia onion dressing. Made only a few minutes ago and still piping hot, enjoy."
Master Yumi just slid her fork into the salad, taking a bite seconds later.
I watched her cheeks warm, and I smirked.
"For dessert we have a baked key-lime cheesecake that was made only yesterday, cooled for twenty-six-hours, and served freshly out from the freezer."
Yumi was silent, still chewing the salad as she stared off into space.
"Is it to your liking, master?" I wondered curiously.
She remained quiet.
I blinked. "Master?"
No response.
I then lightly touched her shoulder, and she jumped, twirling around in her chair and knocking it over.
She fell backward with the chair, but I caught under her back to keep her from crashing with it.
Yumi stared into my eyes deeply, having that familiar dark storm bleeding into her blue gaze.
"Master, are you alright?" I said, lifting her up to her feet.
She snapped out of it then, looking away. "I'm fine. Put me down."
I listened, setting her on her feet.
She remained staring over my shoulder, clearly trying to avoid eye-contact.
"I have something to do," she replied then, brushing past me. "The preparations for dinner will be ready by five, understand?"
"But, master..." I said, brows drawing together, "you didn't finish your lunch."
"Did you hear me?" she questioned, turning back to glare. "I am the leader of this house, not you. I told you to do something. When I say dinner preparations will be ready by five, they will be ready by five, do you understand, Sebastian?"
I stared for a moment, but a small smile formed on my lips, and I bowed down, lightly setting my hand on my chest. "Yes, my lord."
"Good," she answered, pushing open the door and leaving. "I'll be in my study."
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*****
She wasn't in her study; I knew from the moment she said it she was lying.
Master tended to lie a lot.
I stepped casually down the halls of master's mansion, holding a small blanket over my arm as I continued down to the main bedroom.
I stopped at the closed door, lightly knocking.
There was silence for a moment, but I finally heard her voice, a little unraveled and shaky:
"Who is it?"
"It's me, master," I said then.
She was quiet for a moment. "Come in."
I opened the door, closing it behind me seconds later.
When I gazed further into the room, I found Yumi huddled under her comforter, knees pulled to her chest as she stared out the window in front of her.
I could tell by the rattling sheets that she was shaking.
I sighed, shaking my head when I stepped over to her.
She gazed up at me uneasily, clearly trying not to look so unsettled, but her position said otherwise.
I pulled the comforter off her head and let it drop to the mattress. "I just made this bed, master. Are you trying to give me more chores?"
"I get to do what I want," she snapped. "You are my servant. If you have to make my bed fifty times in a day, then you will, understand?"
I smiled. "Yes, master."
She looked down. "Good."
I just stood and pulled the blanket off my arm, flipping it out and draping it over her shoulders seconds later. "You didn't finish your lunch, my lord."
"I'm not hungry."
"But you said you were before I gave it to you," I replied.
"Are you questioning your master?" she said then, glaring at me. "I said I wasn't hungry."
"Are you going to help with the dinner preparations, then?" I wondered.
"Why should I?" she answered. "That's your job."
"Then are you going to do anything at all?" I asked her then. "You said you were bored."
"Boredom comes in waves," she answered.
"You can't hide in here forever, master," I said then. "All you do is think about everything when you're alone and it makes it worse."
"You're one to talk."
"Yes, I want your soul," I replied, lashes lowering. "And I cannot have it if you're becoming so feeble and weak. I want a strong soul, a willing soul... a soul of vengeance. That is the tastiest."
She just looked at me. "Are you calling me weak?"
"You're sitting in your bedroom, huddled under the blankets because you ate a salad. So, am I calling you weak?"
She just grumbled under her breath.
"Master," I said then, "I am not the king."
She gazed over at me then.
"I am the knight," I replied, eyes darkening, "that travels the board from where the king wants me. I am merely a darkened pawn awaiting command. You are the mastermind. How is a pawn supposed to know where to go? What moves to take?"
"I was sulking," she answered, "let me sulk in peace."
I tipped my head to the side. "Are you going to forfeit the contract?"
She gazed over at me then. "What are you talking about?"
"Sulking will only make you feel sorry for yourself," I told her then, red eyes glowing, "feeling sorry for yourself will only make you soft. You are part of the Phantomhive family, master, and that itself means that weakness does not run through your blood. Trauma or not, you are the mastermind. That is the trait of your family. Your job is to rid of those in the underground, and I promised to help you with that... as well as your revenge."
She stared.
"If you're going to forfeit your position in the contract," I said then, eyes glowing brighter, "well... then... maybe I can have my dinner right here. A weak soul is a sweet soul... I crave sweetness sometimes, but your soul is already complete. The contract was an agreement so both you and I had our part in the agreement. If you flake out now, I would love my dinner. I have been starving for a while, you know."
She stared at me for a long moment, and I half-expected to watch the fear grow in her eyes, the pain, suffering, and that sweet darkness of death.
But she just smiled. "You're utterly sick, you know that?"
I smiled, eyes still glowing a bright red.
"'A weak soul is a sweet soul,' says Sebastian Michaelis," she continued. "Yes, I get it, you're hungry, but I haven't given up."
I arched my brows.
"I do admit, though... that salad reminded me of my mother, a little." She glanced over at me. "That's why I ran off, and no, that does not make me weak, Sebastian. In reality, I was planning... a plan of attack. For tonight. The dinner preparations are in order, I believe." She glanced over at me in warning.
I kept the smile. "I would not fail you, master."
"Good," she laid down on her bed, "then I have an idea, Sebastian." She smiled over at me. "Why don't you greet him with the warmest welcome?" Her eyes narrowed. "The warmest welcome."
My smile widened. "Yes, master, that will do for such a fine guest, wouldn't it?"
"It would," she agreed, gazing over at me in warning. "And talk to me like that again, I will not be happy, understand?"
I smiled and stood, bowing slightly when I locked my eyes on her, watching the red reflect in her gaze. "Naturally, my young lord."
She made a tsk noise, clearly out of annoyance. "And get me something to do. There's still two hours until dinner. I'm bored."
I lowered my head. "Yes, my young lord."
The confidence never faded. That's what so interesting about Yumi Phantomhive. Such sourness and bitterness to the soul, but weakness giving it such a sweet and savory taste.
A delicious soul, indeed.
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A/N
Hey-yo! What do you think so far?
Also, what are your thoughts on long chapters? Do you guys like short chapters or long chapters more?
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