damned_institute | Night 41: Main Hallway, 1-West

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Night 41: Main Hallway, 1-West

[from here]

The main hallway was empty, too. The quiet was broken only by squeak of S.T's shoes on the tile floor and tiny creaks of metal as the toolbox swung as he walked.

This was the part in the horror movie where the cheerleader took a knife to the throat. Good thing he'd left his pom-poms at home. As long as he was the idiot friend or the brains (hell, both) he should make it at least to the third act.

He hurried along, hugging close to the left-hand wall.

[to here]

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Ciel remained rooted to the spot, eyes flicking back and forth from the scalpels to Grell's face, both of which promised he wouldn't be leaving without at least a few souvenirs on his skin. The fact that no one had even turned to look in their direction should have been disconcerting, but every man was out for himself in this place. It was the basis of survival instinct to toss the weak and frail to the wolves and escape with one's life or to bare one's fangs and consume the weak themselves.

"Do I want to know what kind of person would be demented enough to date you?" Ciel muttered, hoping to create more of a distraction as he pondered his choices again.

If he stayed here long enough, perhaps Grell's meeting partner would indeed show up, but that could also lead to the possibility of Ciel being outnumbered. He was willing to bet any close friend of Grell's was just as insane and volatile as he was. That left just running, then. If Grell was really interested in this date then he wouldn't abandon his position to chase him at the risk of missing whoever he was waiting for.

"Apparently he's a law officer," Grell said, stopping for a moment as he recalled Wally's profession and his charm. "A forensics expert - something of the sort." He hadn't really cared except that Wally's job was connected to bringing criminals to justice. Things like that just didn't seem important to Grell. Whether Wally was hunting the Ripper or hunting some lowlife murderer, Grell's hands would never be caught by mortal law. He had a higher power he had to answer to, sure enough, so human laws were insignificant in comparison. They made a huge stink about killing and death, but that was his business and always would be.

But his thoughts were wandering and that was likely just what Ciel wanted. Grell tapped the scalpel against the frame of his glasses just to remind him what he should really be paying attention to. Running would do him no good. Even without his full powers, Grell could easily overtake even a grown adult. Lowering the scalpel, he switched his grip on it, holding it more firmly. "That's not very nice, Ciel. Ask me a question and then think of leaving in the middle? Since no one else has managed to teach you manners, perhaps I should!"

As he said those words, Grell lunged, slashing down at Ciel's arm. An easy enough move to avoid, but then Ciel did seem to freeze at the first sign of danger. He didn't wish to kill him, just teach him a lesson - much like he'd taught Brainy one.

A law officer ? Either the man was really corrupt and harboring some kind of mental illness or he wasn't aware of Grell's true identity. Both were plausible, but considering how Grell was currently dressed up, the former was more likely. In which case, remaining here wouldn't be the best option, lest Ciel be cornered and made victim of his own rat-in-a-maze metaphor.

He'd only managed a few steps before Grell's scalpel caught him, the blade digging roughly into his skin and tearing through the uniform they had given him upon arrival to draw out blood. It spilled out quickly, staining the fabric and wetting the floor, and Ciel could do little more than wince, bite down on the pain, and grasp the wound tightly with his other hand to try and staunch the blood flow somewhat.

It seemed like he wasn't going to get out of this one entirely in tact, something that started to work at his nerves again, well aware he was next to helpless in this situation. Nobody had bothered stopping, either, which meant Grell could very well tear him apart into pieces if he pleased. If running wasn't going to cut it, he had to think of something else quickly. If he could at least take one of his scalpels and fight back -- but again, the death god's strength out-measured his own.

"Ahn~ Look at the mess you've made," Grell purred, taking a step back to observe his handiwork. He'd hit the boy and with a pretty fair shot, too. The very thought of causing Ciel pain brought a smile to his lips and the death god tossed his hair over his shoulder, twirling the scalpels in his hands. He felt so much better now. "Call it payback for the last time we met."

Really, payback would mean kicking the ever living daylights out of him or Sebastian, but that would have to wait. The loyal dog was absent from his master's side, which was a shame and a bit of a disappointment, too. Peering into the dark, Grell rested his hands on his hips, careful not to cut himself with his own blades. "But just where has he gotten off to? I would have thought you would call him by now."

He sighed and then turned his attention back to Ciel, letting the power die out of his eyes as he smiled at him. "Really, Ciel, I could have killed you a long time ago, don't you realize? We've all been letting you go because you have things you must do before the curtain falls on your little drama. After Will stuck it to me last time, I won't be going off the List again." He paused and smirked. "For awhile, anyway."

Pain radiated up his arm, making it difficult to remain calm. Truth be told, Ciel wanted to call Sebastian out loud. The name lingered on the tip of his tongue, begging to be reproduced by his voice, but it was more than just sheer pride that stopped him. If he called out for him and nobody responded, then Grell would know for sure that Ciel was alone and would continue to terrorize him without fearing consequence.

This way, he would leave a bit of doubt in Grell's mind whether or not the demon was anywhere to be seen. For all Grell knew, Sebastian could be watching them from the shadows and waiting for an opportune moment to strike. It was a slight upper hand, but an upper hand nonetheless. And right now, it was all Ciel could depend on because he was definitely trapped in a bad position.

"I don't need him to deal with you. Your nails have already been clipped," Ciel replied in turn, making it look like he'd only avoided calling out to Sebastain out of sheer stubbornness. "All that's left is to drop a collar around your neck and teach you to beg."

[sorry for the wait! Things got hectic this past weekend]

The bravado was starting to wear on him and Grell stuck his tongue out at the boy who refused to play along. Didn't he realize that Sebastian was probably too far away to help by now? Grell knew the demon was somewhere in the Institute and that his powers were still mostly functional (and Lord was that annoying! And completely unfair. Although, exciting in a way - but he was getting off track), but that didn't mean that he'd drop out of the sky like a black knight again. Unfortunately for Ciel, Grell had been here long enough to learn a little bit about the tricks the place pulled on people.

"Don't need him? Don't make me laugh, Ciel. You're just a scared little boy without him at your side - and little boys die so very easily here." The scalpel slipped out of his sleeve again and Grell gripped it delicately, holding it low at his side for now. His power flared up in his eyes again and he could hear it - the sound of Ciel's heart beating, the sound of his life flowing strong as ever, and only Heaven knew how much he wanted to snuff him out like a candle. The grin started slow as he advanced forward again, his lips pulling back to reveal unnaturally sharp teeth and an unnatural urge to rip the boy's throat out. "And you should know better than that, Earl Phantomhive. There's not a single mortal left alive who can hold my leash anymore."

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/636527.html?thread=54151279#t54151279).]

"Pity, then. I'm rather sick of cleaning up after the slime in this place."

There was no warning when the hand reached out of the darkness--a single long, white, claw and black nails gleaming freely into the darkness without the cover of gloves. It took only an instant for the hand to wrap itself around the length of Grell's red hair and yank the connected scalp sharply back--even less for the other hand to grasp the throat underneath and pin it in one painful blow to the floor. Bending over the death god's body, hair in one hand, neck in other...Sebastian Michaelis looked anything but "harmless" despite the Institute-issue overcoat and untidy clothing.

In fact, Sebastian Michaelis looked furious.

Grell's head was bent at a rather awkward angle: neck pulled almost to its breaking point backwards, hair threatening to be yanked out. From his birds' eye view, it was all rather artistic in a way Sebastian would have appreciated had he not been so focused on the sight of his master, drenched in terror and darkness, pale skin corpselike and threaded by delicate veins.

He was beautiful. Vulnerable, Ciel Phantomhive was at his attractive best hunted. It took fools like Grell Sutcliff not to be able to see that.

"This constitutes a war, doesn't it?," Sebastian said, placing a foot in Grell's exposed back and testing. The scalpels were still in Sutcliff's hand, but should the man try to use it, Sebastian would simply crush him. Granted, even now the butler was only waiting for the excuse to do so.

"I warned you to stay away from him. But you have done so."

Edited 2009-06-16 06:21 (UTC)

It all happened too quickly for his mind to register the sudden turn of events. One moment, he'd been staring down at the wrong end of a scalpel, thinking he would lose more than just a little blood tonight. In fact, with the way Grell had been advancing on him, Ciel would have been lucky if he had managed to get away without it being plunged deeply into his heart.

His visible eye had widened in spite of himself, and every instinct that told him not to show fear in front of the death god had gone ignored. He knew the moment he reacted in a way Grell found favorable, he would fall victim to his mercilessness. Grell was a creature that preyed on fear and thrived on any chance to demonstrate his power and superiority over others. Ciel hated to think he'd been backed in a corner -hated even more so that it had paralyzed his body to this point.

Then he felt it. It was stronger than any other sensation in his body -that dull throb where the seal was located. He could feel the energy surrounding it and surging forth, certain it was glowing eerily beneath the eye patch, and he murmured Sebastian's name without even noticing.

In the next instant, the demon had come forward to rescue him as he'd always have, stepping out of the shadows as if he'd been looming there the entire time. Knowing him, that was most likely the case. Had he been merely watching and waiting? Was he extracting some sort of pleasure out of witnessing him nearly get sliced into pieces by a deranged death god with terrible fashion sense?!

Ciel wasn't sure which emotion seized him the strongest. He felt annoyance, relief, terror, and joy all at once, and he was pulled apart by both the desire to run to Sebastian's side and the desire to chastise him for having left him in doubt of whether or not he'd been here. He had already been mentally preparing himself for what could have been several weeks without his butler, attempting to survive and escape this hell.

The pain from the stab wound still sluiced down his arm, the appendage growing numb from it, and the blood continued to leak in an endless puddle on the floor. He'd have to staunch the blood flow quick if he wanted to keep from passing out, but just the reminder of its presence had him settling for annoyance. It could have been prevented if the idiot hadn't been messing around this whole time and had just gone after him when they'd both first arrived. Instead, he'd waited until the last possible minute, just to -what?! Get a rise out of him?!

"You're late!" he snapped, head tossed back in a slightly haughty fashion, able to relax now that their problem was being dealt with.

Oh for the love of GOD-- Grell hit the floor harder than he imagined possible only moments after hearing that voice he'd been yearning for all this time. Somehow he thought their reunion would be a little more romantic than being crushed into the tile. Then again, this was that sadist of a butler after all. Grell was certain that there was some amount of amusement in seeing his master sweating, thinking his death was so close, and at causing pain to the one who'd done that to him.

But augh did Grell hate that haughtiness in Ciel's voice. He was back to being a confident little brat even though it was only by the dark miracle of his contract that he was still alive. One day, when the contract ran out and he was set to die, Grell would put in the request to be the one to cut his life thread. He'd go through all the proper channels even. Fill out every single piece of paperwork and get every required signature.

All to see the Earl bleeding at his hands.

With his neck twisted at such an unnatural angle, there was no way Grell could answer. Besides that, the pain was unbearable and the death god was forced to relax everything in order to even so much as breathe. Sebastian was such a bastard. A sexy bastard, but a bastard nonetheless. Still, the god smiled even as he let the blades drop from his fingers. Regardless of their situation, he wasn't going to die here, not for some stupid reason like injuring the Phantomhive brat. "War? Hardly. He came to me," Grell managed to force out, his voice strained against the pressure, but his expression giddy despite the pain. "I was wondering where you were lurking, love. Not nice to make him think you weren't coming."

[ooc: alskdf aaand this is when I find out lj hasn't been sending notifications T__T]

Sutcliff dropped the scalpels: disappointing. Sebastian had almost been hoping for a more interesting reaction--not that Ciel had the time for one, but ever since their last fight Sebastian had been wondering what it would be like to kill a reaper. He wondered if he could.

This victory would have been much more satisfying, however, if Grell weren't already so weakened. Almost lazily tugging the head even more backwards, Sebastian heard something crack and stopped with an unreadable expression.

"He is mine," Sebastian whispered, contempt lacing what could be gentle words with dark intent.

"I will never leave him. Not in your hands, or in anyone else's. Especially in a place like this."

When Ciel recovered enough to speak, Sebastian looked up, red eyes blank. The scent of blood permeated the space between them, disguising the distance with pungent intimacy. The boy's emotion felt strong enough to drink, but Sebastian could not move towards him.

Not yet.

His eyes flickered down to the worm he held in his hands. Then, flickered back.

"Your orders?"

With the death god momentarily disabled, Ciel found he could move freely again, walking away from his spot and nearing Sebastian. His hand tightened on the wound, but it was little more than an afterthought now as he stared up at his butler, relieved to see him -relieved there was some sense of normalcy in their interactions again. This was a position he was used to being, at the edge of the board, guiding his pieces again. He didn't want to revisit that helplessness again, despising anything that reminded him of that time.

This was now. This was him staring at the death god who had been responsible for putting that boy in a wheel chair -who had probably done far worse since his arrival. Considering he'd already gained himself quite an unpleasant reputation in his short time within the institution, Ciel wouldn't put it far passed him to have committed countless atrocities under his putrid disguise. He'd have to learn what exactly Grell Sutcliff had done, but for now... that one boy's pain and anger alone was enough to solidify Ciel's decision.

No further thought was required. No forgiveness was to be touched upon. The death god had to be punished.

"Kill him," Ciel ordered, his voice firm and unwavering as his hand reached up to snatch the eye patch from his eye where the seal of their contract was now gleaming brightly. He felt the power that was concentrated there, unmistakable in its presence.

How could he have ever doubted that Sebastian would leave him alone in this place? How could he have ever doubted that anything could interfere with the contract?

'He's mine.'

Those words... until the day he died, they would be together. He had to believe this more than anything else.

The pain was almost unbearable as Sebastian pulled his head further back. Almost, but not entirely - it was just where he liked it, actually. The fear that his neck might very well be snapped in the demon's hands was exciting. Grell wondered if this was how mortals felt when he sliced into them, that moment before they realized they weren't going to survive the encounter. Was it as thrilling to them? As deliciously morbid?

But then, just like all those mortals he'd reaped, the order came and Grell felt fear overtake everything else. Sebastian was clearly superior when it came to power now that Grell had nothing at his disposal. His scythe still wouldn't come when he called it, even though now he was practically screaming in his head for it to heed him. Instead, all he got was a headache and a sharp reminder of how weak he was thanks to the restrictions this place forced upon him.

When faced with his own death, Grell could only smirk. "Ruthless as always, Ciel. You would have made her proud - exacting revenge like this." While his voice remained calm, his mind was racing. How did he avoid death? He was supposed to be death! He could only be killed by another scythe, or some other holy weapon, not by simply being torn to pieces by a demon! This stupid Institute had messed everything up! He was royally screwed to say the least and he had no idea how to get out of this one. Unless...

Sebastian was on his back at just the right angle to keep him from moving. The hand cracking his neck backward ensured that he couldn't easily escape. Everything was against him, including the absolute loss of his powers. If he'd just had the ability to escape like he had before, to disappear across the city or slink off where mortal and immortal hands couldn't touch him, this wouldn't be quite so... real. He had only one option and while he didn't like it, he'd have to use it.

"You don't even get the whole story, just listen to the side you want and dole out punishment," he managed to say through the pain, trying to buy himself some time. He sighed and shifted slightly beneath Sebastian, trying to find a way to reverse their roles and get away. "Typical, but I can't say I'm surprised. You never were one to show mercy. Even I wouldn't kill someone when they were down."

Okay, yeah, he would, but he had to sound like he wouldn't.

"As for you, Sebas-chan~ You're just as possessive as ever. It's a shame I can't turn your attention to me. I suppose I will have to suffer my love in silence and from a distance." Pressing his hands against the ground, Grell suddenly bucked beneath Sebastian, gaining just enough room to ram his elbow backwards toward the man's stomach - or whatever else he could hit. He didn't care if it was a low blow - if it got him free, then he'd run.

[Rolling in from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/635355.html?thread=54174171#t54174171) if it's still ok?]

In a tangle of limbs and curses, Ryuk came tumbling down the stairs with no sign of stopping.

In some ways it seemed to be a long trip to Ryuk, because he was aware he was still capable of thought and what he was thinking was that this wasn't as bad as he'd expected (except for each bounce and bodily connection with the steps). But even Ryuk knew it was probably gonna hurt a lot more when he stopped....

The Institute was really something else at night—everywhere mess, everywhere carnage, everywhere stench and damp and horror. It was enough to make Sebastian's instincts as a demon, muted as they'd been in the daytime, surge and delight with each new sound discovered, each new disturbance noted. Elsewhere no doubt pretty tiles were strewn with corpses, monster and human alike; it was all too simple, in short, to join in the revelry and lose himself in the sea of iniquity.

Sebastian had no interest in base simplicity. Not when present were such an assortment of delicacies.

His face was silence and stone as Grell spouted, painfully artless blows meant to deal insult to his master. There was an art to lying, but to fib so directly was pure mockery. If Ciel were so easily fooled he would not to be the one Sebastian had chosen, and if Sebastian's grasp was so easy to claw out of, he wouldn't be Ciel's butler.

Grell's elbow succeeded in connecting to the side of Sebastian's torso; pain was a simple sensation, however, and Sebastian wasted no time with an acrobatic flip that carried both his and Grell's bodies backwards. Landing (heavier than he would have liked) on his feet, Sebastian's eyes glinted as he made to deal the finishing blow, bringing his hand upon Grell's neck and neatly cr—

—getting bowled over by someone's incoming body.

......to his credit, Sebastian no noise as he was knocked over by a heavy man, losing his grip on Grell in the commotion. The man had landed so neatly on top of him, actually, that for a moment Sebastian could not see anything but the man's wide-eyed, peculiarly skeletal face; blinking, he stared into the bulging yellow eyes with all the rising irritation of a hunter whose prey had just been snatched from beneath him, which funnily enough, he was.

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Night 41: Main Hallway, 1-West

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