I have often wondered what would happen if Ciel Phantomhive and his demon butler Sebastian Michaelis had female counterparts.
Chapter 1
I make a deal with a Demon.
Whitechapel, London, England, Monday 31 August 2020 03:40
The tactical unit lined themselves up in the darkened alleyway behind the Futuristic Demons Dance Club. Most of the ten-man armed special response team were seasoned Constables of the Metropolitan PD. The only exception was young Cyrille Phantomhive. Newly assigned to the unite. At 25 years old he was the youngest of all the Constables on the MPD special response teams. He was also the only Special Boat Service veteran on the team. He often got grief because of his last name. It wasn’t easy being the descendant of the Queen’s watchdog, the legendary Earl, Ciel Phantomhive.
It was just one of the many reasons that drove the young constable to succeed where others would see him fail. People such as his stepfather and older stepbrother. Cyrille didn’t have problems with his younger half brother and sister. The main point of contention with his stepfather and bother was because Cyrille refused to change his last name after his mother married his stepfather. It was the constant fighting with his stepfather that drove Cyrille to join the Royal Marines.
Cyrille was proud of his last name and more importantly the heritage that came with it. The idea that he was related to Queen Victoria’s Watchdogs drove him to become a true officer of the law. A bringer of justice for the courts of the UK citizens.
Tonight, was his first assignment with the Special Armed Response teams. His Sergeant and Inspector had given the team their briefing on the ride to Whitechapel. They were serving arrest warrants for known criminal syndicate members. Criminals that were known to hold secretive meetings in the backroom of the Futuristic Demons Dance Club. A club that was known throughout London for its Gothic and some say Demonic theme. The club was trendy amongst the millennials crowd. The club was also a known drug distribution point.
“Alright lads. Here we go. Remember, Stone, Read, and Butler are to be taken alive if possible. Don’t take chances though. These men are most likely armed themselves. We do know that their side-boys are armed. If they come at you do not hesitate to put them down. Those men are all known killers.” The team Sergeant told them all as they moved into final position.
“All teams move in now.” Their Inspector ordered over the team radios. As one the four teams assaulted the club. Each team coming in through a different door. What Cyrille and his team found as they entered the backroom was not what they had been briefed on. There was no drugs, illegal money, not even a single gun totting thug.
Instead what they found was a scene out of a Gothic nightmare. It was not a criminal syndicate meeting but a Black Mass. A true Satanic Mass straight out of some twisted horror movie. None of the Special Response team could believe what they were seeing, yet it was happening anyway.
There were 9 individuals dressed in heavy black reaper cloaks surrounding a 10-foot pentagram surrounded by a circle with candles at each point of the star. The candles were 6 feet tall solid black in color. The individuals were chanting in some strange and unknow language. In the center of the pentagram and circle a naked young girl about the age of 20 lay spread eagle. She was covered in the blood of a pig from the neck down to her pelvis. With each verse chanted the pentagram glowed with a hellish blood red light.
The team’s Sergeant shouted at the top of his lungs. “Armed Police! We have warrants for the arrest of Tomas Stone, John Read, and Mark Butler! Show yourselves this instant!”
As the special response team spread out to cover the 9 individuals no one moved from their positions around the pentagram. Nor did they stop their chanting. When the Sergeant signaled for them to move in and arrest the individuals the one closest to the girl slammed down a massive staff. The girl arched her back as a massive putrid black miasma burst forth from her chest. Even as her screams were silenced from extreme pain the men of the Special Response team were thrown to the floor.
As Cyrille struggled to look up from his prone position it was as if time had come to a standstill. He did not want to believe his own senses. What he saw, felt, smelt, and heard sent shock waves of fear through his soul. As a small child his father would often tell him stories of his ancestor Ciel Phantomhive and his demon butler, Sebastian Michaelis. He always believed that the stories were true. Unlike other members for the Phantomhive family. Now Cyrille faced the very proof of those stories less than 10 feet away.
“Ah. What is that delightful smell?” The demon asked as it sniffed the air. “A desire for revenge unlike any other I have smelt before. Yet there is a touch of familiarity about the sent.”
“Revenge is nothing new to me or my family demon. We live and died by our vengeance.” Cyrille spat out as the demon slowly moved to hover just before his face. “My family are well versed with your kind demon. Take your payment and end this farce of civility.”
“Ah, that is why you taste familiar.” Demon chuckled as it stuck out its tongue to taste the tiniest bit of Cyrille’s soul. The demon pulled back giggling in ecstasy. “A Phantomhive of my own. Oh, dear brother, you never told me that a Phantomhive’s thirst for vengeance tasted so lovely. How, oh how, could you have kept such knowledge from me?”
“What are you talking about demon? You all know damned good and well that Phantomhives always seek vengeance on those who have wronged us. Either take my soul or strike your deal.” Cyrille demanded of the demon.
“Oh, I would strike a deal with you young Phantomhive. But you have nothing to deal with.” The demon chuckled. “Or do you? My brother did say something about how a truly vengeful soul needed to be aged before consuming.”
“You want to see the full weight of a Phantomhive’s vengeance demon? You want to know just how tasty a Phantomhive soul is after we’ve had our revenge? Then strike a deal with me.” Cyrille knew that he had the demon. Just as his ancestor Ceil had beaten the demon Sebastian Michaelis. “First never lie to me. Second obey my commands without question. This only applies if I say, ‘I command you.’ Lastly. Protect me without betrayal until my revenge comes to fruition. Help me gain my revenge against this cult and all of its members. In return you can have my body and soul. You can do with them as you please.”
“I will ask you but three times. Do you truly wish to enter in this contract?” The demon asked with an almost gloating giggle.
“I’ve stated my terms demon. Do we have a contract?” Cyrille knew that the demon was only going through the formalities.
“You would willingly forsake your chances at a heavily reward?” The demon asked with a little wonder at the young man’s already growing hatred for the cult that that summoned it to this earthly realm.
“I gave you my terms. Seal the pact already demon.” Cyrille snarled as he looked over at the naked girl still silently screaming at nothing. Once he had made the pact with this demon these criminals would pay with their souls.
“I have but to ask once more human. Do you wish to enter a pact with this demon? Forsaking your only chance at a heavily reward. You understand that once we have entered into this pact there is no turning back?”
“Heard and answered twice already demon. We have a deal. My body and soul for revenge against this cult and all of its members.” Cyrille answered hotly. “Now seal the pact by blood, bone, and flesh.”
At first all Cyrille felt was a searing sensation in his right eye. As the burning grew to encompass his whole body. The demon began to take form itself. It was not the male demon that he had expected to appear before him. Far from it. There was something about this female demon though that resembled the fabled Sebastian Michaelis. It was the shape of her face, the color of her hair and eyes. Once fully formed the demon stretched out her arms and claws to slice through the necks of the 9 cloaked figures. Even as their blood pumped from severed necks the demon drew in their very souls. Theirs was not the only soul that the female demon drew in to power the binding spell that sealed the contract between her and Cyrille. Only one soul was left with its owner. Every member of the Armed Special Response team save Cyrille joined the demon’s feast.
The burning sensation that now consumed the whole of his body was so painful that Cyrille blackout. Yet before he lost contact with the world around him the demon took her final form. She bent down before Cyrille and kissed him upon his forehead. “Now, young Mistress. Let us travel back to a time when life was simpler, and you can gain the total of your vengeance.”
Chelsea, London, England: Friday 31 August 1888 08:40
Cyrille groaned as he rolled over in mild pain. He could believe the pain he had gone through to gain his vengeance on that cult of criminals. The fact that he was even waking up was a surprise. He was sure the demon would have just killed the cult members then feasted on his soul and flesh. Cyrille blinked his eyes and ran his hand over the heavy blanket that covered him.
“Oh boy! Why do I have a feeling that I’m not in Whitechapel anymore.” Cyrille said as he looked around the room he now occupied. As his eyes roamed the room his police trained reflexes kicked in full force. He let his eyes take in every little detail. At no time did he spot one modern electronic device. No TV, no radio, no laptop computer, nothing from the 21st century. Not even the bedside table lamp was electric. “This place is filled with nothing but antiques. What the fuck happened? Just where the hell am I?”
The door opened and in walked a young woman dressed in the uniform of a Victorian Maid. Consisting of a gray chemise with black stockings, and gray petticoat. Her dress was black with a matching apron with a white frilly cap, and black lace-up boots. She was also sporting white gloves, a pocket watch, and a rear silver lapel pin bearing the Phantomhive crest, one that is traditionally worn by the household’s Lady’s Maid. Even though she was smiling brightly and carrying a serving tray there was a deadly air about the young woman. “Good morning young Mistress. I hope you slept well?”
“Excuse me but who are you?” Cyrille asked her while for the first time noticing the change in pitch and tone to his voice. It was not his voice. Grabbing at his neck Cyrille cleared his throat and tried for his normal baritone voice, failing miserably. “What’s happen to my voice? I sound like a teenage girl.”
“That is because you are a teenage girl, young Mistress. All part of our contract.” The Maid told Cyrille with a sly smile. “You wanted revenge on all the members of the Chosen Ones of Eternal Doom remember? Especially upon the founding members.”
“I remember saying something along those lines. What does that have to do with me being a girl now?” Cyrille asked as he pushed the bedcovers down to examine his now very female body. She wasn’t able to bend at the waist easily. She felt as if there was a huge bandage compressing her from her breasts to her hips holding her in a ridged vice like grip. “And why can’t I bend at the waist like normal?”
“Oh, that would be your sleeping corset young Mistress. What do you know about the true nature of a Faustian contract?” the Maid asked Cyrille honestly. “And young Miss, I cannot lie to you. It is part of the contract.”
“Not much really.” It was with a sudden clarity that Cyrille realized that he was dealing with the demon from the club in human form. He also realized that he was now a girl. Cyrille asked as she sat upright in the bed as the Maid placed the breakfast tray across her lap. “Um… by the way what do I call you? I cannot very well go about shouting ‘yeh you’ or ‘demon bitch’.”
“You may call me Savannah, young Mistress.” The demon answered with a small smile. “I am the twin sister of Earl Ceil Phantomhive’s Butler Sebastian Michaelis. Though if you were to ask him. I am his little sister.”
“Before we go further Savannah. Would you please back things up to the beginning. You asked me what I knew about the true nature of a Faustian contract. What exactly did you mean by that?” Cyrille asked as Savannah helped her into an upright seated position on the bed.
“When you said you wanted revenge against ALL the members of the cult. Your need for revenge was so powerful that I was able to open a portal through time. Back to when the cult was first founded. The year is eighteen-eighty-eight.” Savannah explained as she placed the serving tray across Cyrille’s lap. On the tray was soft boiled egg, two slices of buttered toast, an empty teacup, silverware, and the morning newspaper. The date and headline grabbed her full attention. “Yes, my Lady. The date is correct.”
“This is the first of the five official Whitechapel murders attributed to Jack the Ripper.” Cyrille whispered. “I could actually stop these heinous acts. I could arrest the most wanted and famous serial killer of all times.”
“You could my Mistress. You could order me to end this madman’s rampage before it even gets started.” Savannah then asked with a sly smile. “But are you ready to change the course of history that drastically?”
It took Cyrille a few seconds to realize the ramifications of such actions. How far would the ripples reach through time and what changes would happen. “No. I think not. Though I do have one question to ask. If we are now in eighteen-eighty-eight. As you say. What will happen in the future when I kill the founding members of that cult?”
“It shall set to rights what has been wronged, young Mistress.” Was all Savannah said well watching Cyrille eat her toast and drink her morning tea. “It was your desire for such a drastic and unrelenting revenge that has allowed this to happen, young Mistress.”
“I see. Then the legends are true. Ciel Phantomhive really did make a deal for his soul with the demon Sebastian Michaelis.” Cyrille whispered to herself as she realized that she wasn’t dreaming. “This is all real.”
“Very much so, Mistress Cecilia. Your desire has brought us through the vastness of space and time. To Friday the thirty-first day of August in the eighteen-hundred-eighty-eighth year of your Heavenly Lord.” Savannah said with a smile and small curtsy. “Welcome to the Phantomhive Chelsea Manor.”
Cecilia grabbed the teacup and downed its contents. “Damn. I need something stiffer than tea. Savannah is there any bourbon in this place?”
“A lady never part takes of such strong beverages, Mistress. Especially one as young as yourself.” Savannah corrected her mistress with a smirk.
“You know something I don’t give a fuck. The last time I looked at my driver’s license I was twenty-five.” Cecilia countered feeling like she was on solid ground with the demonic Maid.
“Not in this time, young Mistress. In fact, you are no longer that brash young man. In this time, you are a lovely young lady of sixteen and Noble birth. All that is left of him is your soul.” Savannah corrected her quickly then held up her right-hand forestalling Cecilia’s outburst. “You were the one to seal our contract with blood, bone, and flesh. Our contract also said I could have your body and soul in payment for your revenge. I have merely taken your old body in down payment.”
“Care to tell me how we’re going to explain my presence to the current Earl of Phantomhive? We are after all in the young man’s second home.” Cecilia asked as Savannah refilled her teacup.
“We shall face that once you have bathed and dressed for the day Mistress.” Savannah removed the now empty serving tray to a small table over by the window. Moving to the closet Savannah opened the door to expose an extensive wardrobe. “My Lady Cecilia you have a ‘wonderfully proportioned body.’ Your arms and legs are wonderfully thin, with beautifully slim shoulders. As for your waist it is nice and narrow. The envy of most grown women. Luckily, your ears are already pierced allowing you to wear a wide range of earrings.”
Savannah returned to stand beside the bed and Cecilia. Savannah picked up a black eye patch from the bedside table and tied it about Cecilia’s head covering her right eye. “To hide our little agreement.”
“What does that mean?” Cecilia asked.
“The seal of our contract lies within this eye, Mistress.” Pulling the glove from her left-hand Savannah showed Cecilia the tattoo on the back of her hand. “This is my sign for the seal of our Faustian contact. A Faustian contract is a link and bargain between you and me. Know this my Mistress. The contract is a ‘collar.’ It is absolute; just as I’m always able to find you, you can never escape me.”
“Is that why my right eye burned the way it did when we sealed our contract?” Cecilia asked the demon Lady’s Maid. Savannah just nodded her head with a knowing smile in answer to her question. “Fine. Then if I must hide our seal. Then we’ll at least have the eye patches match my dresses.”
“Not even a woman for one day and you’re already worried about matching accessories with your ensembles.” Savannah chuckled. “I must say, young Mistress. You’ve already achieved the proper attitude for a lady of Nobel baring and station. Highly commendable.”
“Whatever Savannah. Just help me out of this damnable torture device of fashion. I need a bath.” Cecilia ordered the Maid.
“At once, my Mistress.” A half hour later Cecilia was easing down into a hot tub of soupy water. A half hour later she was being helped back out of that water by the ever-present Lady’ Maid. After being dried and powered Savannah led the teenage girl back into her room. Savannah wasted no time in dressing her young Mistress. First up was a white camisole. This was followed by her full torso over-the-bust day corset that was laced down to a fashionable 17in. Up next was pair of heavy black wool stockings were rolled up Cecilia’s legs and attached to the garter straps of her day corset. Over her stockings Savanna raised a pair of knee-length drawers. Lastly was the petticoat.
Savannah next buttoned up a pair of knee-high high heeled boots on Cecilia’s dainty feet. Savannah produced from the closet a solid black skirt with a matching waistcoat and ruffled black silk blouse. From another closet Savanna produced a black wide brimmed fedora style hat with a pair of matching black kid leather gloves. The skirt flared out enough that Cecilia could take full unhindered steps, it was belted at the waist with a thin ¼ inch cloth belt. As Savannah helped Cecilia into the outfit something tickled at the back of Cecilia’s mind about the color black and Victorian women. “Why am I wearing a morning dress?”
“In this time-line your parents have been dead for just short of a year, my Mistress.” Savannah leaned in close so that no one would hear but Cecilia. “Just as is the young woman who once wore this very body. You have taken her place. You are now the Countess Cecilia Justine Phantomhive. The oldest child of Harriet and Clive Phantomhive younger brother to Earl Vincent Phantomhive. You have one younger brother who is currently away at boarding school in Northern Scotland. He is your true ancestor.”
“Then I have only one question. How the hell are we going to explain me to Earl Ceil Phantomhive? He’ll know if I’ve died with my parents.” I countered.
“Leave that to me, my Mistress.” Savannah said as she finished buttoning up my dress. “For now, we must join the young Lord and his butler in the salon.”
Cecilia let Savannah lead the way through the massive house. She stopped at a pair of closed doors on the ground floor. She quickly pulled the doors open and announced me. “Earl Phantomhive, I present the Countess Cecilia Olivia Phantomhive. Your cousin sir.”
I walked into the room to find a boy around thirteen or so sitting at a window table. Cecilia could tell that Ciel was short for a teenage boy. He has grayish blue-black hair. Yet her eyes were inexplicably drawn towards his rich peacock-blue right eye. The boy was dressed in the height of Victorian fashion for a young nobleman. He was dressed in what could only be described as a Fauntleroy suit. It was a velvet cut-away dark blue jacket and matching knee pants. His shirt was a fancy blouse with a ruffled collar. The young lord’s boots were knee high side buttoned leather with a two-inch block heel dyed blue to match his suit. His knee-socks were a deep purple. Cecilia could tell that the boy was of noble birth just by the way he was dressed. Even the pierced ears did not take away from his rather wealthy and feminine appearance. If Cecilia didn’t know that Ciel was a boy, he could very easily be mistaken for a girl.
Behind him stood a rather handsome butler with black hair, red eyes, and pale skin. He was dressed in a typical butlers uniform, which consists of black trousers, a six-buttoned double-breasted tailcoat, and a gray vest; on his shirt cuffs and tie is the Phantomhive crest. He also sports white gloves, a pocket watch, and a chained silver lapel pin bearing the Phantomhive crest, which is traditionally worn by the house’s head butler. Cecilia knew this man from the family portraits as Sabastian Michaelis the demon butler for Earl Ciel Phantomhive.
“Is she really my cousin Sabastian?” Ciel asked of the butler looking bored.
The butler sniffed the air. “My young Lord she is, and she is not.”
“Explain.” Ceil demanded with an air of arrogance.
“That is the body of the Countess Cecilia Phantomhive, but the soul is not hers. Though it is the soul of a Phantomhive.” Sabastian gave Savannah a hard look. “Perhaps my sister can better explain this anomaly, my Master.”
“Of course, dear brother.” Savannah smirked. “My Lady is the Countess Cecilia Phantomhive. But as my brother pointed out. The soul that resides within this body in not the soul of Cecilia Phantomhive. The soul that now inhabits this body is that of Cyrille Phantomhive. Descendant of your younger cousin Cecil. It will be young Cyrille’s desire for revenge one-hundred-and-thirty-two years from now that will open a doorway to this time.”
“A doorway that you used to facilitate her revenge.” Finished Sabastian with a chuckle. “Nicely done sister.”
“Sabastian is this Maid really your sister?” Ceil asked in amassment.
The butler sighed. “Sadly, young Master, Savannah is my younger sister.”
“Your twin sister.” Savannah huffed only to get a sigh from Sabastian and a giggle from Cecilia. Ciel gave Cecilia and Savannah a strange yet knowing look as he reached up and touched his eye batch.
Cecilia seeing the movement reached up to her own eye patch and raised it to show her right eye. “As you can see cousin. We share a great deal in common.”
“So, it seems. A contract shared with demons.” Ceil waved towards the chair on the other side of the window table. “Please cousin, join me in a cup of tea. We can share the stories that led to our contracts.”
For the next two hours the teenagers drank tea and told each other their stories. Ciel did get a slight laugh when Cecilia told him that less than 24 hours prior, she was a 25-year-old male Constable. Once Ciel regained his composure he gave Cecilia a small smile. “Even a hundred-years from now the Phantomhives are still the Watchdogs and Alleycats of the Queen.”
“Excuse me, Ciel. Who or what are the Alleycats?” Cecilia asked the young man. “I only know about the family’s duties as the Queen’s Watchdog.”
“The Watchdogs keep the criminal element in line. While the Alleycats are tasked with eliminating other worldly threats. Such as solving those cases involving the supernatural for the Crown.” Ciel explained before turning to Sabastian. “Sabastian there are two rings in my office safe. In the closet in my mother’s old room is an ebony wood walking stick. Fetch them for me.”
“At once, my lord.” Sabastian said with a slight bow.
“Ciel I appreciate the use of your home. I have no need for what is obviously family heirlooms.” Cecilia began only to have the young boy stop her.
“The rings are rightfully yours cousin. They belong to the Alleycats. A position that can only held by the women of the Phantomhive family.” Ceil explained with a straight face. “I hope that you know how to use a sword cousin. Because that walking stick is one of the finest made cane swords.”
“I prefer firearms to blades. I never had much use for a blade.” Cecilia told Ciel. “I do wish I had been able to bring my Colts to this time.”
Ciel reached under his jacket to pullout a very recognizable semi-automatic pistol. It was an early model Colt M-1900 .38 ACP pistol. The true ancestor of the famed M-1911-A1 .45 ACP semi-automatic pistol. “I’m never without my equalizer, cousin. These Browning’s are rather remarkable.”
“I don’t doubt that cousin.” Cecilia chuckled. “The M-nineteen-hundred’s design will be refined to the point that it will become the standard by which all other semi-automatic pistols will be judged in the future. The M-nineteen-eleven forty-five will be that pistol.”
“Not surprising really. I find that the thirty-eight APC pistol puts a nice whole in an individual.” Ciel chuckled as he returned the pistol to its hiding place inside of his jacket.
“Not surprising as the three-fifty-seven cartridge packs a heavy punch. Though I prefer the forty-five caliber rounds for their impact.” Cecilia chuckled. “While the nineteen-hundred is reasonably reliable. I would rather carry a forty-five caliber Long Colt Remington eighteen-sixty-one with a four and half-inch barrel. It may only have six shoots, but it drops whatever it hits. It is also much easier to hide under a lady’s jacket.”
“What about reloading? Doesn’t that take up extremely valuable time during a fight.” Ciel countered knowing the major problem with revolvers was having to eject the spent rounds first before reloading.
“The nice thing about the sixty-one model is the dropout cylinder. You merely pull out the cylinder retaining pin. Push the used cylinder out, push in a fresh cylinder, and reset the retaining pin. Total of six seconds, from start to finish.” Cecilia explained with a knowing smile. “I actually owned two such pistols in my old life.”
“Even with the more modern semi-automatic pistols at your disposal?” Ciel asked with his head cocked to the side.
“I had plenty of access to the more modern semi-automatics when it came to my occupation cousin. I even had access to them in my civilian life because of that occupation. It was just easier to own what was considered an antique firearm. Less paperwork to file out.” Cecilia told the young man.
“Here are the rings and cane sword, young Master.” Sabastian said as he returned at that time. “My Lord, there are two such pistols in the household armory. I believe that the Countess should be made available of them. If for no other reason than she might need them in her pursuit of revenge.”
“See to it, Sabastian.” Ceil ordered.
“Go with him, Savannah. Make sure that the weapons will meet my standards.” Cecilia ordered the maid. At the look she was given by Sabastian and Ciel, Cecilia just chuckled. “I mean no offence to your standards Sabastian. I’m sure that the weapons will fire and be accurate. But they may not fit my small hand. I have no desire to injure myself in the act of self-defense.”
“Ah. The young Mistress has a certain grip in mind.” Sabastian said with a sly smile. Looking up at Savannah. “Come along sister. I do hope you can live up to the standards of a Phantomhive servant.”
“Do not worry about me brother. I know exactly what my Mistress needs in her firearms. I am the Lady’s Maid for the Phantomhive family. It goes without saying that I can manage something as simple as this.” Savannah answered with a smile. “I am after all. One hell of a Lady’s Maid.”
The two demon servants left the Earl and Countess alone. Ciel picked up one of the rings. The first was an ornate silver piece that held an emerald-cut deep-blood-red ruby. Ciel took Cecilia’s left hand and slowly placed the ring on her thumb. “This is a one-of-a-kind family heirloom it has been passed down for generations. Always going to the next Alleycat.”
Taking Cecilia’s right hand Ciel picked up a gold signet ring in the form of the Phantomhive crest, then placed it on her middle finger. “This was my mother’s ring. It rightfully belongs to you.”
“Ceil I cannot take either of this rings. I’m not really your cousin Cecilia.” Cecilia said as she reached to take the rings off.
“You really don’t understand your situation cousin. For you to be here now, in this time. My cousin Cecilia has died and gone on to her heavenly reward.” Ciel pointed to Cecilia’s chest. “That body is now yours as is the name, and titles that go with the face.”
“This isn’t a dream is it?” Cecilia whispered. “I really did make a pact with a demon. The year is eighteen-eighty-eight, and I am the Queen’s newest Alleycat. Great, just fucking marvelous.”
“A lady doesn’t use such language, Mistress.” Savannah said entering the room with Sabastian right behind her carrying a rosewood box. “I selected two pistols that should fit your needs, Mistress. Both pistols are sixty-one New Models in the forty-five long colt caliber. One is a Banker’s model with the four-inch barrel. The other is the Gunslinger model with a four and three quarters inch barrel.”
“What of the interchangeable cylinders?” Cecilia asked.
“Both are equipped with the interchangeable cylinders, Mistress.” Savannah said as she took the box from Sabastian. Opening the lid Savannah tipped the box towards Cecilia. “Each has four extra cylinders, Mistress.”
Cecilia picked up the Banker model first. She spun the cylinder and worked the hammer a few times. She pulled the cylinder retaining rod and changed out the cylinder with ease. She replaced the pistol in the box and picked up the other. After preforming the same function check with the Gunslinger, she returned it to the box as well. She took out the Banker’s model and loaded the cylinder. She then loaded the other four matching cylinders. Cecilia placed the four spare cylinders in the pockets of her jacket and the pistol in the waist band of her skirt at the small of her back.
“Thank you, Ciel. These will do nicely. Savannah could you please see about a shoulder holster. One that will handle both pistols.” Cecilia ordered as she placed the pistol in her jacket right hand pocket.
“Of course, Mistress. A double shoulder harness and waist belt with loops to hold the spare cylinders. Only the finest of leathers. I will see to immediately.” Savannah said with a small curtsy before leaving the room.
Once Savannah was gone Sabastian smiled. “I never thought I would see the day that my sister would enter into a contract with a moral. She truly must have matured over the years.”
“I take it that this is a first for my Lady’s Maid?” Cecilia asked of the butler disguised demon.
“Very much so young Mistress. She was never one to let a soul ripen. She would normally just rip the soul from the mortal she wished to devour and be done with it.” Sabastian looked Cecilia in the eyes. “Please forgive my rudeness Mistress but did she truly drag you back through time from one-hundred-and-thirty years into the future?”
“She did indeed. Though I believe it had more to do with my wish for revenge against the founding members of the cult that had summoned her.” Cecilia smirked as she thought about that desire. “I believe that the power to bind our contract and transport us both to this time came from the seventeen souls that she devoured during the failed ceremony.”
“Excuse me, young Miss, but did you say seventeen?” Sabastian asked politely.
“Yes. Why is there some significance to the number of souls she devoured?” Cecilia asked with some confusion.
“Very much so, young Miss.” Sabastian began with a slight bow. “The number seventeen is a very powerful number. Mostly because the most sacred name of God has seventeen letters. One soul sacrificed for each letter the most holy’s name. The power unleashed would have been more than enough for a soul to travel through time. It seems that my dear sister has outdone herself.”
“She did work a rather nasty not to mention powerful spell while saving me.” Cecilia said with a smile of pride for her Lady’s Maid. “Though I do not care for my new form and all that comes with it. I shall not complain.”
“Really cousin? You would give up all that it means to be man?” Ceil asked.
“To gain my revenge against the Chosen Ones of Eternal Doom cult? I would give up all that and more.” Cecilia snarled. “You have no idea of the damage they have done in my time cousin.”
“My Lord, it seems that your cousin’s thirst for revenge surpasses even yours.” Sabastian said with a slight bow towards Cecilia. “I believe that your soul will become quite delicious once it ripens Countess. For once I’ll admit that I envy my sister.”
“Why thank you brother. I never thought I would see the day that you would envy me. Though this is one time that it was pure luck that brought this soul to my attention.” Savanna said as she returned to the room. Savanna carried a bundle of black leather in her hands. Letting the bundle unravel she held the bundle by a set of shoulder straps. “As you requested young Mistress. A double shoulder holster of the finest leather. As you can see young Mistress the two holsters are held in place by a fashionable yet functionable waist belt. All of the leather has been hand rubbed and carefully tooled as befitting a gentlelady of the court.”
Cecilia stood up removing her jacket and placing the pistol on the table. Taking the double shoulder from Savanna she pulled it on with a practiced ease. Savanna moved smartly to the rear of Cecilia to adjust the shoulder harness and waist belt. With her new shoulder rig in place Cecilia armed herself with the pistols. She placed the eight spare cylinders in the pouches that ran across her lower back on the waist belt. Now that her Mistress was fully armed, and properly accessorized Savanna slipped her Mistress’s jacket back on once more.
Cecilia stepped over to the room’s floor length mirror. She wanted to ensure that her shoulder holsters were covered by the waist length jacket. Outside of the slight bulges under her arms, there was no sign that she was armed. With a flip of her hand her jacket popped open. With an ease born of years of training Cecilia drew both of the sixty-one Remington 45 long colt pistols from their holsters. A small deadly smile creased Cecilia’s lips. “Yes. These will do nicely. Thank you, Savanna. Well done.”
“No thanks are need, my Mistress.” The demon maid said with a proper curtsey. “After all, I’m simply one hell of a Lady’s Maid.”
“More like a royal pain in my ass.” Cecilia snarked as she returned her pistols to their holsters. “Savanna the walking stick please?”
Cecilia grabbed the middle of the walking stick with her left hand and the handle with her right. With a sharp twist and tug Cecilia drew a razor sharp 23-inch Damascus steel blade. The walking stick was nothing more than the finest cane sword from Mithril Sabre swordsmiths. The hilt and fittings were of the finest cast metals with died black leather wrappings. The hardwood shaft was painted black with red accents. The cane’s overall length is 37 1/2". It was as much a work of art as it was a powerful, and very capable weapon of self-defense. Cecilia took a few practice thrusts, cuts, and parries with the blade. Testing its flexibility, balance, and handling.
“I thought you said you didn’t know how to use a sword Cousin.” Ciel said with a sly knowing smile.
“I said I didn't have much use for them, never said I didn't know how to use them, cousin.” Cecilia said as she returned the sword to its scabbard.
“It seems young Lord that your cousin, the Countess, is woman of many and rare talents.” Sabastian snarked from his place behind Ciel. “May hap she’ll be able to help you with your two left feet.”
“That is enough out of you.” Ciel growled towards the Butler.
“I doubt that I could help your Master anyway Sabastian. I don’t even know how to waltz.” Cecilia almost snarled before blushing clear to her breasts. Cecilia then spun the cane through her hands before grabbing it by the pommel and slamming it into the floor. “My preferred dance is Close Quarters Combat with nightsticks.”
“Your time must be one of considerable violence cousin.” Ciel said as he leaned his on his fist as if contemplating some great mystery. “Tell me cousin. Do all the constables of your time learn this Close Quarters Combat?”
“Just those of us who have had the pleasure of serving in our Queen’s Royal Marines’ Special Boat Service.” Cecilia answered bluntly. “The best of the best. We graduate one out of ten from every class of one hundred.”
“Amazing. Simply amazing. An enter branch of Her Majesty’s Marines trained to a higher degree than all the others.” Ciel grunted as he watched Cecilia work the cane sword. “Though from the looks of things I would say you took your training to another level on your own.”
“Not really though this.” Cecilia said as she raised the cane up. “Is a little long for a riot control Nightstick. It’ll still get the job done.”
“My Mistress might feel more at home with a Constable’s standard truncheon, young Master.” Savanah said with a small curtsy. “Though she does show some competence with the cane.”
“That’s because it’s a little longer and slightly heavier than a standard riot control Nightstick.” Cecilia said without thinking. “Something I’ve had more than enough practice with of late.”
“Now that you’re armed cousin. Where will you begin your search for revenge?” Ciel asked her bluntly.
Cecilia slowly turned to her younger cousin. “Where it all began.”
“And just where is that young Mistress?” Sabastian asked next.
“With the ancestors of the men who killed me one-hundred and thirty years from now.” Cecilia snarled through clenched teeth.
“And just who was that?” Ciel asked her.
“Tomas Stone, John Read, and Lord Mark Butler.” Cecilia smirked. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I could possibly find their ancestors?”
“If my sister cannot find them then I suggest that you start with the current Lord Butler.” Sabastian said with a small bow.
“What kind of a Lady’s Maid would I be if I could not handle such a simple task?” Savanah said with a curtsy then vanished I a cloud of swirling dust.
Cecilia blinked then looked over at a smirking Sabastian. The butler bowed at the waist smiling as he said. “She’s one Hell of a Lady’s Maid.”
I may or may not continue with this story. I only posted this because it was a distraction brought on by my daughter Karin. The little s*!t has been watching Black Butler nonstop for the last 3 days.
I have often wondered what would happen if Ciel Phantomhive and his demon butler Sebastian Michaelis had female counterparts.
Chapter 2
London, England: Friday 2 September 1888: 10:40
Cecelia stand back in her seat as the hansom cab rumbled through the streets of Westminster, London. She looked down at the envelope with the Royal seal in her hand for what had to be the seventeenth time. The letter had arrived earlier that morning while she was having her morning tea with Ciel. “I haven’t been in London more than a day. How could the Queen have known?”
“Simple, Mistress. The young Master informed her that her Alleycat has returned. The Queen has ready need for your services young Mistress.” Savannah told her as they passed a beer delivery wagon. “And rightly so I’m afraid. There have been five young women found dead in unusual circumstances in the past months. The first was found two days after the Summer equinox in the catacombs below Temple Church.”
“Why haven’t these murders been reported in the papers?” Cecelia asked her maid. “I mean something like a dead woman below Temple Church would have drawn more than a passing notice.”
Savannah sighed as she realized the problem. “Unlike in the time you came from Mistress. The reporters of this time can be bribed to keep their mouths shut and turn a blind eye. Especially if there is someone or something more tantalizing to draw their attention.”
“June second the scandal surrounding Edward King the current bishop of Lincoln and his using ritualistic practices in Anglican worship.” Cecelia sighed as she remembered her grammar school history. “That would be enough of a scandal to keep the vultures occupied until Jack came along.”
“Here’s your stop miss.” The driver called out as he pulled to a stop in front of a row of brownstone homes.
“Thank you, sir.” Cecelia said as she exited the cab. “Come along Savanah.”
As the two young women waited for the door to the brownstone to be answered contemplated her upcoming meeting. The two men she was here to meet were not part of her original suspects for revenge. Yet they were also someone she didn’t want to anger without reason. The Metropolitan Police Commissioner, Sir Charles Warren and Chief Inspector Sterling Smith. The door was finally opened after Savannah had knocked on the door a second time. The butler was dressed in the typical uniform for the era. “Can I help you?”
“Countess Cecelia Phantomhive to see Sir Charles.” Savannah answered primly.
“Welcome Lady Cecelia.” The butler said as he stepped out of the way allowing the two young women to enter the home. Once inside Savannah removed Cecelia’s caps and took her gloves. The butler held out his hand to Savannah. “May I take those for you Miss?”
“Thank you, sir.” Savannah said as she handed over the cape and gloves. When the butler waved towards Cecelia’s cane Savannah smiled and whispered. “My Lady is never without her cane sir. She has an embarrassing medical need.”
“That will be enough out of you, Savannah.” Cecelia snapped as she twisted the cane in left hand as she looked at the butler. “Where is Sir Charles? I don’t have all day.”
“This way, my Lady.” The butler said after he hung Cecelia’s and Savannah’s capes on the hall tree. “Sir Charles and Inspector Smith are waiting your arrival in his home office. Maid you can wait for your Lady in the kitchen.”
“Savannah you WILL accompany me during my meeting with the Commissioner and his Inspector. I will not have my reputation impended upon by household gossip.” Cecelia snapped at the impotence of the butler giving orders to her Lady’s Maid. “AS for you sir. You may be in charge of the servants in this household, but don’t ever make the assumption of giving my Lady’s Maid orders again. Do so and I’ll be having words with your employer.”
“I meant no disrespect Countess. I just felt that.” The butler stammered.
“Enough. Show us to your Lord then see if you can make a proper pot of tea.” Cecelia ordered the butler. “If not I’ll send my Maid to handle the task.”
“This way my Lady.” The butler said with bow after he regained his composure at the reprimand by the young woman in mourning black. As he led the two to the home office of Sir Charles the butler couldn’t help but wonder if she was a young widow. She was old enough to have already been married. As he opened the door to his employer’s home office he introduced her. “The Countess Phantomhive and her Lady’s Maid, my Lord.”
“Thank you Reginald. That will all. I’m sure that the Lady’s Maid can see to us in your absence.” Sir Charles ordered his butler. Once it was just him his Inspector, Cecelia, and Savannah, Sir Charles introduced the other man. “Countess Phantomhive allow me to introduce Chief Inspector Sterling Smith. The man who has been investigating these murders.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir Charles. Inspector, it is a pleasure.” Cecelia said as she held out her hand to shake his. She was slightly surprised when the Commissioner bowed over her hand and kissed the back of it. Smith followed his superior’s example as Cecelia turned to greet him. “Commissioner, thank you for seeing me today. Though I do wonder at the reasoning behind your request to meet with me. Especially here at your home.”
“Please.” Sir Charles said as he waved his hand towards a highbacked chair. As Cecelia took her seat Savannah moved to stand just behind her to the right of the chair. Cecelia rested her left hand on the pommel of her cane. “Would you care for some tea before we start Lady Cecelia?”
“Savannah see to the tea please.” Cecelia said as she arrogantly waved her hand towards the tea service waiting on the side table. Savannah just smiled gave a small curtsy and turned to handle the task of making the tea. “She is a very able Lady’s Maid. You were going to explain the reason behind meeting here in your home Commissioner. How do you prefer your tea gentlemen?”
“Lemon, only, Savannah.” Sir Charles answered without thinking.
“Cream, one lump, please, Miss.” Stirling said then blinked at as he answered at the unassuming question.
“As you know it is the duty of her Majesty’s Alleycat to investigate all crimes that have connections to the occult.” Sir Charles began only to have Stirling snort dismissively. “That is enough Smith.”
“Sir there is absolutely no such thing as the supernatural. All this poppycock mumbo jumbo is nothing more than a diversionary tactic by the murderer to throw off our investigation. My men have no need of some little girl barely old enough for marriage.” Stirling snorted dismissively of Cecelia. “Let alone tell us how to do our job.”
“There are more things in heaven and earth than the mind can fathom Inspector Stirling.” Cecelia chuckled softly. “Magic and the occult are very real. If there is one thing that I know personally. Magic and those that practice it are not to be taken lightly.”
“What would a child bride know of the world. Especially one who is recently widowed.” Stirling snorted.
“I see why her Majesty, the Queen wants me to investigate these murders now, Commissioner.” Cecelia said as she looked to Sir Charles. “Your Inspector is a blundering fool of an idiot.”
“My Lady is not a widow sir. She has not yet passed her year of mourning for the lost her mother and father in India. Your tea my Lady. It is a gentle bend of New Moon Drop tea.” Savannah said as she presented a cup of tea to Cecelia. Then turning to the two gentlemen she held out a cup of tea prepared the way they asked. “Your tea gentlemen.”
“Thank you, Savannah. Be sure to replace my cousin’s supply as soon as possible.” Cecelia said before taking a sip of her tea. “Delicious Savannah.”
“You’re welcome my Lady. As for the tea if was a gift from Earl Ceil.” Savannah answered dismissively as she moved to stand behind Cecelia’s chair.
“Sir Charles, do you by chance have photographs of the murder sites?” Cecelia asked before taking another sip of her tea.
“No. We do have detailed sketches of the crime scenes though.” Sir Charles answered as he hand over a stake of papers. “The one thing that all five crime scenes is the overlying occult theme.”
Savannah took Cecelia’s teacup while her Mistress flipped through the sketches. In each sketch the setting was the same. A large pentagram surrounded by a double circle with a 4ft tall candleholder at each point of the star holding a thick candle. Laying spread eagle in the center of star was a naked young woman. Sticking out of the center of each young woman’s chest was a large cylinder like object or staff. The more Cecelia studied the sketches the more her hands trembled.
Savannah reached down and gently took the sketches from her hands and handed her back her tea. “It’ll help calm your nerves, my Lady.”
Cecelia took a deep drink of her tea to calm her nerves before speaking. “I’ve seen that ritual before. These girls are all in their mid to late teens. Their heads are all pointed north. Their bodies are covered in a coating of red candle wax. Their eyes are wide open in fear. Carved into the center of their foreheads is a Roman numeral. The five candles are red in color made from a thick tallow. Instead of the more modern paraffin wax. Between the outer circles written in Hebrew is the phrase. ‘Blood for blood, life for life, power for the powerful.’ If we don’t stop these people there will seven more dead women. The murders will happen on the first day of the last week of each month until the next Summer equinox.”
“Excuse me, but I have a few questions Lady Cecelia. First is how you even know about this so-called ritual? And second why on that day of each month?” Stirling asked of Cecelia with more than a little respect. He knew that most of what the young lady had just told them wasn’t visible in the black and white sketches. Only he and his Detective Inspectors Pete Cumming, Abner Adams, and Aubrey Cawley knew what this slip of girl just told him.
“I’ve seen this ritual before during my travels, sir. The last time I saw this ritual it was a young woman of no more than twenty that was used as the sacrifice.” As Cecelia answered Stirling she let her mind go back to that night in the backroom of the Futuristic Demons Dance Club. She knew that she couldn’t tell the Inspector the full truth. So, she shift her story just enough to make the lie believable. “I was with my mother as she investigated a similar series of murders in Delhi. She was able to stop the cult before they reached their final victim.”
“You said that this was a ritual killing. That there will be one every month. What is the significance of the timing?” Stirling asked impressing Cecelia.
“I wish that I knew Inspector. Savannah you were my mother’s Maid at the time. Did she ever find the reason behind the timing?” Cecelia asked of her demon maid. Hoping that the demon would give a truthful answer.
“According to your mother’s notes. The ritual pointed towards the summoning of a powerful demon, Mistress.” Savannah answered with a sly smile. “One powerful enough to change the course of history.”
“Bloody hell. People actually believe that they can change history through the use of magic?” Stirling asked in stunned disbelief.
“Chief Inspector Stirling, the idea of using magic to change the course of history is as old as the human race. Our oral history is full of such stories. King Author and his Knights of the round table, Merlin and Morgana, the Tower Princes, Joan of Arc, Saint Patrick, Queen Teuta of Illyria, are just a few examples of magic being used to change history.” Cecelia explained for the man. She could tell that Stirling was one of the ‘modern’ thinking Inspectors that were slowly replacing the old guard. “Those are just examples from our history. I could give you many more examples from antiquity.”
“So, this isn’t just some fantasy pursued by diluted individuals. These criminals actually believe they can change history.” Sir Charles said with a heavy sigh before taking a sip of his tea. He looked over at Savannah. “This tea is quite good. Thank you, Savannah.”
“You’re welcome, Sir.” Savannah replied with a small curtsy and just the right amount of arrogance. “I am the Lady’s Maid for the Phantomhive family. It goes without saying that I can manage something like this.”
Both gentlemen just chuckled at the pretty young maid’s pride. While Cecelia just sighed. “Savannah by chance was my mother able to figure out what demon those individuals were trying to summon?”
“According to your mother’s notes. The cult of the Chosen Ones of Eternal Doom have always sought the favor of just one demon. Thorgonnoth, Demon Prince of the Eternal Doom.” Savannah adlibbed an answer for Cecelia.
“Miss Savannah, do you know where Lady Cecelia’s mother’s notes are currently?” Sir Charles asked quickly. He figured that if he could get his hands on the former Countess’s notes that he would be able to cut Countess Cecelia out of his man’s investigation.
“Sadly, Sir Charles, my mother’s notes were lost in a fire that destroyed our home in India.” Cecelia answered quickly. “As were most of my family’s personal possessions. It happened during the Thuggee uprising last year. There should be a report of it somewhere with Her Majesty’s Army Command.”
“Was that when you injured your leg, Countess?” Stirling asked politely. “The only reason I ask is I noticed that you have a slight limp and unlike most young ladies. You actually use a cane when walking.”
“Normally I would tell you that is none of your concern sir. However, as you have spotted the truth behind what most men would see as a fashion statement.” Cecelia said as she handed her teacup to Savannah before pushing up out of the chair on the cane. “One of the hazards of living in India is the lack of decent medical care. I spent five months recovering from a broken leg that wasn’t set correctly. Thus, the need for my cane.”
“Now I understand why you demanded for your Maid to stay during our visit.” Sir Charles said with a sad smile. “Not just for your reputation but protection as well. Very prudent, Countess.”
“My Lady is far from a helpless babe, sir.” Savannah said with a sly smile.
“I would not have survived the wilds of India if I had not learned a few skills gentlemen.” Cecelia chuckled. “Skills that most gentlemen not to mention my mother would not approve of in a young lady of breeding.”
“Such as?” Sir Charles asked with a slight chuckle of his own. As a veteran of Her Majesty’s army he could well imagine some of the skills that Cecelia might have learned from her time in India.
“Let’s just say that I learned how to take care of myself in a pinch, Sir Charles.” Cecelia told him with a chuckle as she subconsciously shifted her cane in her hands. “Ever scene my accident I’ve been sure to have an equalizer with me at all times.”
“I noticed that your cane is slightly heavier than a normal lady’s cane, Lady Cecelia. May I have a closer look?” Stirling asked not liking the idea of a woman walking around with weapon.
“I’ll save you the trouble Inspector.” Cecelia said as she pulled the sword from the cane slowly. “As you can see the blade is twenty-three inches of the finest Damascus steel. Forged by the Mithril Sabre swordsmiths. The hilt and fittings are of the finest cast metals with died black leather wrappings. The hardwood shaft is made from rowan and painted black with red accents. My cane’s overall length is thirty-seven and half inches. A family heirloom.”
As Cecelia returned the blade to its sheath she smiled. “I have a two others, but neither of them match the craftsmanship of this one.”
“I need for you turn that over to the nearest Stationhouse my Lady.” Stirling began in a authoritarian manner only to change his tune of voice at the glare from his Commissioner. “Though under the circumstances I think I can overlook your possession of the cane.”
“What the Inspector should have said is he commends you on your very prudent show of self-protection my Lady.” Sir Charles said as he reprimanded his subordinate for his lack of manners. “Especially in these turbulent times.”
“Yes. Jake does have a flair for the dramatic and catching the eye of the news whores.” Cecelia snarled as she let her feelings for the newspapers color her voice. “Some of those men are little better than yellow journalists at the best of times. Even when reporting the facts.”
“I must say that is a very jaded point of view for one so young, my Lady.” Stirling chocked out over the coughing fit that threatened to overtake in shock at such unlady like vehemence. “Please forgive me, but you sound a great deal like one of my Patrol Sergeants.”
“The Countess sounds suspiciously like Superintendent Rollin Walsh.” Sir Charles chuckled as he gave Cecelia a small smile. “A more jaded man you would be hard pressed to find. Any in country.”
“Let’s just say that I have never been one for blinding believing what those men print for profit. Especially when it comes at the cost of others’ misery.” Cecelia explained for the Inspector. “Case in point. The murder of Mary Ann Nichols. An unfortunate struggling to survive the mean streets of our city.”
“You sound as if you sympathize with the woman, Lady Cecelia.” Stirling commented. “You wouldn’t happen to be a Suffragette?”
“No Inspector I am no radical. While I believe that women should have the right to vote. I am not one of these women who believe that they should be the ones in charge. I merrily believe that men and women should be treated as equals.” Cecelia said deflecting Stirling’s suspicions of her political ideals. “Just as the good book says. After all, God created Eve to be man’s companion not his servant. Both equal in the eyes of our Lord.”
“She has you there Stirling.” Sir Charles laughed. “Well argued young lady.”
“I wish that I could take credit for the argument Sir Charles. I have merrily paraphrased a famous American orator.” Cecelia sighed and looked down at her hands resting on top of her cane. “Sadly, like all greater orators he to came to a bloody and violent end.”
“Sadly, that is all too often the fate of the truly great orators. Where were you to hear an American speaking on the rights of women?” Stirling asked once again sniffing at Cecelia’s backstory.
“During my travels home, I had to cross the American continent. Savannah and I had the pleasure of spending a week in the American city of Memphis, Tennessee. The man had a way with words that was truly inspiring.” Cecelia told him with a sly smile knowing that Stirling was trying to use subtilty to interrogate her. “Sadly, he was gunned down in the streets of El Paso, Texas just a few short months later. He was accused of cheating the wrong man at a game of cards.”
“I never knew that the American’s took their cards so seriously.” Sir Charles grunted. “I always knew they could be a violent people but to kill over a card game is a bit of a stretch.”
“Not when there is money and honor on the game, sir.” Savannah said smirking. “Two things that the people of the American west hold in high regard.”
“Sometimes enough to kill over.” Cecelia pointed out. “Make no mistake on the matter gentlemen the American’s are a people of great passions.”
“I see. Thank you for the warning.” Stirling said with real honesty.
“During the two months that it took me to cross the United States I learned a great deal about the people. They are by and large slow to anger, but once angered they are not ones to be trifled with. They do not believe in half measures. You said they are a violent people. I disagree. They are like the North American rattlesnake. They will give you plenty of warning to back off and leave them alone. Fail to heed the warning then you get what you deserve.” Cecelia said with a straight face as she thought about the American service men she had met during her time in the SBS.
“What of the stories surrounding their gunfighters?” Sir Charles asked with real curiosity. “Surely those penny novels are fabrications.”
“Though most of the stories have been exaggerated there is plenty of truth behind the legends. Wyatt Earp, and his brothers, Bat Masterson, William L. Brooks, Doctor John Henry Holiday, Jim Miller, William Bonney, Johnny Ringo, are or were real life gunfighters. Not all of them on the side of the law. What those novelettes leave out is the harsh life that produces such men.” Cecelia said as she thought about the American men and women she knew. “Theirs is a harsh land demanding an even harsher people. It was one such person who taught me how to use both a sword and a pistol.”
“Really an American taught you how to use a sword and pistol in such a short time in the country. I would love to met this man.” Sir Charles said in disbelief. Mainly because he has always believed that only a gentleman could handle both weapons with any true proficiency.
“I doubt that will be possible Sir Charles. He died during the Thuggee uprise that destroyed my family’s home in India. He was a Confederate American expatriate who was part of the local garrison that helped to put down the uprising. Colten Davis was a Captain of Cavalry with CSA Eastern Army. He was also a true Southern Gentleman.” Cecelia let her voice fill with sadness. “He was also my first love and fiancé.”
“I apologize for bringing up unpleasant memories Lady Cecelia.” Stirling quickly jumped to the conclusion that Cecelia desired. “I would also like to apologize for my earlier remark about you being a child widow.”
“Would that were the case sir. I was just fifteen days from my wedding when the Thuggees attacked.” Cecelia chuckled softly. “We had planned on returning to Colten’s home in Charleston South Carolina once we were married.”
“To survive four years of bloody conflict only to die on foreign soil. Truly a rear man indeed.” Sir Charles commented.
“Captain Davis was no ordinary military man, Sir Charles.” Savannah said as she stepped behind Cecelia as if to comfort the neophyte young woman. “He was skill in more than just firearms and swordplay. He was also a tactical genius, a graduate of the United States Military Academy. Most of his classmates were the generals on both sides of their Civil War.”
“Now, I understand where your Mistress learned her skills.” Sir Charles chuckled. “Little wonder with such a fiancé.”
“Lady Cecelia, I have to ask as a member of the Constabulary. Are you armed with more then just the cane sword?” Stirling asked politely.
In response Cecelia just sighed and opened her jacket. “I never go unarmed sir. As a young woman of the Nobility I would be a fool to go unarmed. In the words of my fiancé. God made man; Sam Colt made them equal.”
As Cecelia buttoned her jacket she could tell that Stirling and Sir Charles disapproved of her carrying the pistols. “Gentlemen, until the law changes. I will not surrender my pistols.”
“My Lady, my only worry is not that you have them. But that you can use them with proficiency.” Stirling explained his worried look.
“My Lady hit what she aims at sir. With rifle, shotgun, or pistol.” Savannah told Stirling while looking at his crotch. “No matter how small the target.”
Cecelia giggled, while Sir Charles chuckled at the none to subtle implied threat to Stirling’s manhood. Stirling just blushed. For some reason he knew that the Lady’s Maid mistress was deadlier than either woman was letting on. As he studied the two young women standing next to each other. Stirling had another revelation. The Lady Cecelia is a kitten in comparison to her maid.
“May we return to the topic that brought us here today, gentlemen?” Cecelia politely asked of the two men.
“Of course, Lady Cecelia. You were saying something about this ritual being some kind of summoning. Just how powerful is this Demon Prince?” Stirling asked her with real concern.
“According to legend the Demon Prince Thorgonnoth is reputed to command a full third of Hell’s armies. If someone were to raise this particular demon they would also be able to control time.” Savannah said as she talked about a demon so powerful that not even her bother would defy. At the blank looks from the two gentlemen and the suddenly pale face of her mistress Savannah knew that she needed to explain further. “His power is only great enough that he could move forward through time for a short span. He can only move forward through time for a short period. No more than a few minutes at the most, but long enough for an enterprising individual to take advantage. They could change the outcome of a battle or make changes in the stock market.”
“Bloody Hell! Just the thought of that kind of power in the wrong hands is terrifying!” Stirling croaked out as the implications ran through his mind.
Cecelia could tell that Savannah was leaving something out. She wouldn’t call her out on it in front of the two men, but she would once they were alone. For now, she would just let her maid tell the men what she felt they needed to know. Along with what they should think they needed.
“According to legend sir. That power comes at a cost. A price paid in human lives. The greater the change, to history the greater size of the sacrifice.” Savannah told the two men. A truth that Cecelia knew all too well as she had firsthand knowledge of the power needed to travel through time.
“How great of a sacrifice would be needed to prevent say the collapse of an Empire the size of Great Britain’s?” Sir Charles asked cautiously.
“What cities are you willing to sacrifice Sir Charles? London? York? Chester? Coventry? How many lives would be enough to stop the decline of our Empire?” Cecelia asked him bluntly not letting Savannah answer the man’s question. As Sir Charles turned white Stirling grabbed the side of the desk. “That is the cost for that kind of power sir. Whole cities.”
“By the Gods! If what you’re saying is true then these people must be stopped at all costs.” Stirling blurted out. looking over at Cecelia he asked. “My Lady, I know that you said your mother’s notes were destroyed. By any chance did you ever read them?”
“I’m afraid that I never had the chance, sir. By the time I was old enough for her to start training me to be her replacement as the next Alleycat. I was learning how to use a sword, and pistol from my fiancé. Planning my wedding and our eventual return to Charleston, South Carolina.” Cecelia lied once more to throw off the Inspector from this line of questioning. “When the fire happened, my mother didn’t have time to save the family journals.”
I don’t doubt that, Lady Cecelia. She was most likely more worried about getting you out of the house. Was that when you lost your eye?” Stirling asked as he pointed toward the patch over Cecelia’s right eye.
“No. I lost my eye during my travels home. A slight mishap in a hotel saloon in Kansas City. As we were leaving to catch our connecting train to New York. We had to pass through the saloon area of the hotel. Unfortunately for us a fight broke out between rival cattlemen. Savannah got me out of the way but not fast enough to avoid being injured. I wasn’t fast enough in ducking and was hit right eye by a piece of glass from a broken beer mug. The best the local doctor could do for me was remove the glass from my eye.” Cecelia explained with a believable lie as she unconsciously touched the eyepatch over her right eye. “As I said gentlemen. Americans are slow to anger but once angered they hold on to that anger. Grudges are not easily forgiven by the men and women of the American Western Frontier.”
“Ruffins. Totally lacking any moral fiber or manners. I really do wish that you had let me put that man in his place, Mistress.” Savannah snarled. “Filthy pig, should have gutted the swine when your back was turned.”
“Savannah, I really do wish you would let that go. He had no idea his was addressing a Countess. Remember most Americans have no idea of who are among the Nobility. To them Dukes, Counts, Knights, Earls, are people of grand fairytales. All the young man saw was a pretty young lady in weeds alone at dining room having a meal.” Cecelia sighed as the two men chuckled.
They could see in their minds how things had played out. A brash young American cowboy fresh off the range. A lonely yet obviously young widow of wealth and breeding seating alone in a public place. While the young widow’s Lady’s Maid sees to her evening meal in the hotel kitchen. The only thing missing was the browbeating of the young man in question by the Maid. It was a narrative worthy of Shakespearian comedy. As both men chuckled at Cecelia’s obvious discomfort Savannah shifted slightly with feigned embarrassment.
Before more could be said Sir Charles’ butler opened the door to the study. “Sir, there is a Constable Egerton here to see you and Chief Inspector Stirling. I can show the Countess out if you like?”
“Just show the Constable in Malcom.” Sir Charles ordered. Once the butler left Sir Charles turned to Cecelia. “I left orders that I was not to be disturbed unless there was another murder along the lines of the last five.”
The door opened to allow a young Constable to enter. He took one look at Cecelia and Savannah. “Sir, I don’t think that the young ladies should hear my report. It is not something for the fairer sex.”
“Constable Egerton, I can assure you that I have heard and seen worse in my young life already.” Cecelia snapped.
“Just give your report Egerton.” Stirling ordered the young man.
“Yes, sir Inspector. A little over an hour ago the British Museum took delivery of six mummies complete with sarcophagus. Sir, the delivery was unscheduled. The director for the Egyptian section opened one of the sarcophagus.” Egerton swallowed hard before continuing. “Sir, the mummy inside was… well. I don’t know how to say this.”
“It was a young woman wrapped up like a mummy then covered in paraffin wax. The sarcophagus was filled to the edge locking the young woman in place.” Cecelia said without emotion. “The other five will be the same, gentlemen.”
“How did you know my Lady?” Egerton stuttered.
“I’ve seen it before.” Cecelia said as she thought back to the case that had led her and the Special Response team to the Futuristic Demon Dance Club. Over a period of one year forty-two such mummies had been deliver to the British Museum in her original time. “This will be the first of seven such deliveries. The next delivery will be one month from now.”
“Is this part of these ritual murders we were discussing Lady Cecelia?” Stirling asked of her with real respect for a fellow investigator.
“I cannot be sure Inspector. My mother was unable to connect the mummies to the ritual murders. I do know that there was a total of forty-two such mummies delivered to the Royal Delhi Palace around the same time as the ritual murders that she was investigating. The only deference that I can tell between the two is the lack of sarcophagi.” Cecelia told the man. “To be sure I would need to see the ones delivered to the British Museum.”
“Egerton secure us a carriage. We’ll join you shortly.” Sir Charles ordered.
“Sir.” The Constable said as he snapped to attention and left.
“Lady Cecelia, you said that you weren’t sure of a connection between the two cases. What do you believe?” Sir Charles asked as he led the way towards the front of the house. As they neared the door the butler met them with Cecelia’s and Savannah’s cloaks. “We'll be stepping out for a while Malcom.”
The butler just nodded his head as he helped Savannah with her cloak as she helped Cecelia with hers. Cecelia was taking her time as she thought about how to answer Sir Charles question. She knew that the two cases were related. The problem she faced was how to phrase her answer without tipping her hand to her backstory for this time. So far she had been able to divert Stirling’s inquisitive snooping into her history.
As they stepped outside Cecelia took a deep breath before answering. “Sir Charles until I have seen these new mummies I cannot in good conscience say whether or not that the two cases are linked. Though I have a feeling that they are linked. I just do not have proof.”
“Understandable young lady. Though from the look on your face from earlier I believe that you’re holding back. Care to explain?” Sir Charles countered.
“The absence of proof sir. There were three great influences in my life Sir Charles. The first is my mother who taught me how to be a well breed and educated woman. It was my fiancé who taught me how to defend myself with more than words. Lastly it was my father who taught me how to use my intellect and not be ruled by my emotions. Without evidence to back a conclusion no matter how sound all you have is unfounded conjecture.” Cecelia explained in an extremely prim and proper manner.
“I think I understand, my Lady. Without seeing the actual mummies and sarcophagi you have no point of comparison.” Stirling mumbled so as not to be overheard by a passing Nanny and the children in her care.
“In the words of my father sir. People lie. Evidence never lies.” Cecelia said once the Nanny and her charges were out of earshot.
“You sound like my old Chief Inspector, Lady Cecelia.” Stirling chuckled. “Though he phrased it definitely.”
They waited to continue their conversation as the carriage pulled to a stop. Once they were all on board and Egerton had given their destination Cecelia picked up where she left off back at the house. “I’ll know exactly what we’re dealing with once I have seen these mummies sirs. If they’re even near to what I’ve seen Delhi. Then we have a real problem on our hands.”
“Then let us table further discussion until then shall we.” Sir Charles suggested. To which the three young people agreed. For the next half hour their talk turned to the Whitechapel murder. Both men were slightly surprised by Cecelia’s take on the murder.
“I believe that this will be but the first of several such gruesome murders, Sir Charles. I would direct your Inspectors away from the tradesmen as your suspects.” Cecelia held up her hand to forestall their rebuttals. “The answer is in the way the reporters describe the mutilation of the body gentlemen. Whoever committed this crime has a working knowledge of the human body. Beyond what a butcher, undertaker, or other such tradesman would have.”
“Are you suggesting that the murderer is a doctor, Lady Cecelia?” Sir Charles asked in a hushed voice.
“Yes sir, that is exactly whom I suggest that you look to for in the investigation. Though I would focus my attention on someone who does not have ties to England directly. Yet can easily pass himself off as a native. He’ll speak with an upper-class accent. He’ll have an easily comprehensible command of the Queen’s English. He’ll try to pass himself off as one of the gentry. Most likely an educated gentleman, like a doctor. Though one not trained within the Empire. If I were to hazard a guess I would say one trained in the United States or Canada. Yet is a failure at his chosen profession in his home nation. He will be impeccably groomed. His clothes will be in good repair despite his lack of founding.” Cecelia held back her smile as she described her favorite suspect for the Whitechapel murders of 1888. The man was an American by the name of Dr. Henry Howard Holmes or H.H. Holmes, a well-known American serial killer and conman from the same time.
“Though I would approach this man with extreme caution. He’ll have a violent nature hidden behind a mild-mannered facade. He’ll be quick to anger. He’ll have a knife with him. Most likely a large hunting knife. Possibly an American Bowey knife with a blade that is at least nine and quarter inches long and one and a half inches wide.” Cecelia took a breath and adjusted her seating. “Make no mistake gentlemen your suspect is a ruthless killer. He will not hesitate to kill a Constable as easily as some wagtail.”
“I must say Lady Cecelia. That is a rather detailed description for the Whitechapel murderer. It is like you know the man personally.” Stirling started off with in an accusatory tone. “You won’t want to confess something? You know save us some time.”
“Inspector, if you make one more accusation a long those lines towards my Lady again. You and I will have more than words.” Savannah snarled much to the surprise of both men. “Unlike my Mistress, I grew up in the worse Hell known to man. I have no problems with going one on one with you.”
“Savannah, that will be enough. The Inspector is only showing his ignorance to a more modern way of police thinking. The idea of applying the modern practice of psychology to criminal behavior is a concept that I doubt will gain much acceptance in this era.” Cecelia said as she gently chastised her maid. “Even though it is hobby of mine. I have to understand why people commit the heinous acts they do. Maybe one day we’ll be able to predict crimes before they happen.”
“It sounds like you’re actually trying to get inside the head of a monster, Lady Cecelia.” Stirling shivered then thought about a Doctor that he knew who worked with the insane. “Though I do have a friend who is an alienist. I believe he would find your ideas for classifying and I believe predicting criminal behavior quite fascinating. Do you happen to have a name for this new scientific method of fighting crime?”
“No sir. As I have said. It is just a hobby. I doubt that applying the ideals of psychology to criminal behavior will ever be proven as a workable tool for policing the criminal element of our society.” Cecelia told the young man not wanting to tell him that the idea of criminal behavioral science or profiling is from close to 100 years in the future. It is also something that the basics of is taught to all new incoming police officers. Not just in the UK but in police forces around the world. “In many ways my methods could be missed used to place the wrong individual behind bars.”
"You’ll have to forgive me Lady Cecelia, but right now I would accept whatever methods you want to bring to the table. I don’t care how bazaar they might be, especially concerning these ritual murders.” Sir Charles said bluntly as he gave Stirling a harsh glare. “We got five dead young women and no answers. We do not antagonize those who are trying to help.”
“Yes sir.” Stirling said with a gulp as the mean behind Sir Charles’s words was clear as day. He was to leave the Lady Cecelia’s past alone and quite trying to interrogate the young Lady. “Understood.”
The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the British Museum. As they exited the cab they were greeted by the Curator. “Sir Charles, Inspector Stirling, I sorry for interrupting your morning visit with you guests. I’ll have my carriage brought around to take them home.”
“Get out of my way fool.” Cecelia snarled and turned to Egerton. “Constable can you show me to the mummies?”
“Excuse me young lady, but just who do you think you are to talk to in such a manner?” the Curator snapped at the way Cecelia treated him.
“Countess Cecelia Phantomhive, the Queen’s personal Alleycat. In other words, I the bitch her Royal Majesty sends to investigate the truly weird happenings around our nation. Now you have six very unusual mummies somewhere. Are you going to show them to me or get out of my way? Make up your mind quickly sir as you're trying my patience.” Cecelia grinned evilly as the color drained from the man’s face as he realized that he was addressing a Noble. One who received her authority from the Queen herself.
“Right this way my Lady.” Cecelia, Savannah, Stirling, and Sir Charles all chuckled at the Curator’s sudden change in attitude towards the youngest member of their party. As the four of them walked through the museum to the Egyptian area the click of the women’s heels on the marble floor was accentuated by the metallic tap of Cecelia’s cane tip. As they neared the back area of the exhibit Cecelia spotted the six sarcophagi and stopped dead.
“Sir Charles, please seal this area off and remove all museum personal.” She asked of the man as the ranking member of the Police. “Those are relate to the other case we were discussing in your study.”
Sir Charles didn’t even think twice about questioning the politely phrased order. “Egerton, Stirling, get those people out of there. If they give you any guff. Feel free to dent their heads.”
“Yes sir.” The two men said at the same time. In minutes, the museum personnel were cleared out. Cecelia and Savannah were closely examining the individual sarcophagi. For Cecelia it was like looking at a nightmare to come to life. She knew that inside each sarcophagus was a young woman. Each between the age of 19 to 21. If not younger for this era. They would be wrapped in layers upon layers of linen bandages. They had been mummified alive then placed inside the sarcophagus. Where they would then be covered in clear liquid paraffin wax. Forever sealing them inside their wrappings and to the bottom of the sarcophagus. The one open sarcophagus confirmed this for her.
Walking up to the open sarcophagus Cecelia sighed as she looked up at the mummified young woman. In a voice barely above a whisper she asked Savannah. “Savannah, in my time we could never figure out how the mummies fit in with the other ritual murders. Would you know?”
“The first recorded worshiping of Thorgonnoth by humans was in ancient Egypt, my Lady. They worshiped Thorgonnoth with human sacrifice. Every two months they would mummify one man and one woman alive. Then seal them inside their sarcophagi with a heavy risen. They would then be taken out into the center of the Nile River. Where they would then be dropped over the side of the boat. It was true death obsessed cult.” Savannah shivered with memory. “Ah the feasts from the days of old. Virgins as far as the eyes could see.”
“You do know that the day you get my soul you’ll most likely feast once more upon a virgin.” Cecelia sighed as she examined the lid of the next sarcophagi. “If the ancients sacrificed both men and women. Why would these suspects only use women for their sacrifices?”
“The only reason that I know of for using only women is they are trying to raise a different demon. Why do you ask, my Lady?” Savannah asked as she pulled open a second sarcophagus. “Wait this isn’t a man.”
“They will all be young women Savannah.” Cecelia told her maid then dropped her voice to just over a whisper. “Just like the ones from my time.”
“The Children of Eternal Doom may be trying to raise Thorgonnoth, but they’ve made a terrible mistake.” Savannah chuckled evilly. “The demon that they will raise will feast on their bones. Then return to the Hell that spawned it or strike a deal with an unwitting bystander.”
“You know which demon they’ll raise don’t you, Savannah.” Cecelia said with a sly smile as she thought back to that night just a few days ago. “I do have a question Savannah. If the Children of Eternal Doom are unknowingly trying to raise you. What would happen if you are already raised?”
“Nothing. They will have sacrificed all those maidens for nothing.” Savannah answered with a small curtsy. “Until our contract is fulfilled. I have only one absolute Mistress, that is you.”
At the mention of their contract Cecelia absentmindedly touched her eyepatch. “Could you tell when or where the next attempt to summon you happens?”
“Of course, my Lady. Our contract maybe absolutely binding. I can still feel the affect of a summoning.” Savannah answered but stopped her explanation when Sir Charles walked up to them.
“Well, my Lady. Are these mummies related to the other murders?” He asked.
“I will not lie Sir Charles. They’re related.” Cecelia answered as she turned to leave. “This is no longer a matter for the police.”
“Just what does that mean?” Stirling asked as he walked up. “Murder is murder. That makes it a police matter.”
“That is where you’re wrong Inspector. These two cases are all about magic. Magic specifically for the summoning of a demon. Like her Majesty’s Watchdog, her Majesty’s Alleycat is charged with certain duties.” Cecelia told Stirling bluntly. “It is time for the experts to handle matters, Inspector.”
“What experts? You and your maid?” Stirling snorted dismissively.
“My Lady is more than she appears, Inspector. She has skills and knowledge that far exceed those of your own. She is more than capable of handling the investigation into these ritualistic murders.” Savannah said putting the young Inspector in his place. Then with a small curtsy she said grinning. “As for myself. I am simply one Hell of a Lady’s Maid.”
-----tbc-----
I have often wondered what would happen if Ciel Phantomhive and his demon butler Sebastian Michaelis had female counterparts.
Chapter 3
North Bank of the River Thames, London, England: Saturday 3 September 1888: 8:40am
Countess Cecilia Phantomhive stood looking down at the naked body stretched out on the North Bank of the Thames in disgust. The woman couldn’t be older than 17 or 18. She had her chest ripped open and her heart removed. She knew the work as well as the day she had first seen it. This was the same work as the cult’s in the future. The signs were all there to see. Even Savanah was surprised by the brazen display. “I must say Mistress. These people show no sophistication at all.”
“Trust me Savanah the people behind this murder have absolutely no regard for common civility.” Cecilia whispered. “They only want power.”
“Power that’ll be forever out of their reach thanks to a certain Countess.” Savanah chuckled softly as she stepped closer behind her mistress. “Though I do wonder at one minor detail. I should have felt the ceremony. The draw of the magic. Yet I felt nothing. No draw, no release. Nothing.”
“I have a theory along those lines Savanah.” Cecilia looked around the crime scene to make sure that no one would overhear her. “Do you remember that large purple crystal at the ceremony that bond me to you?”
“You mean the Source Crystal. They’re not that rare yet they are very powerful.” Savanah answered as she nodded her head. “They’re mostly used for the storage of mystical power until released all at once.”
“Say in the ceremony for summoning a Demon Prince or Devil King.” Cecilia asked of her maid disguised demon companion. “Maybe a Demon Princess?”
“There are times when the Royalty get more credit than they deserve. Then there are the times when they get overlooked as the proper villains they truly are. Such a shame really.” Savanah sniffed airily. At Cecilia’s look of confusion Savanah sighed. “Humans place far too much on the idea of power, True Power, being inherit.”
Cecilia looked down at the ring on her left hand. The ring in question was an ornate silver piece that held an emerald-cut deep-blood-red ruby. It was more than just a family heirloom. It was the sign of her office for the Queen. It marked her as the Queen’s Alleycat. It also gave the truth to Savanah’s comment.
“Be that as it may Savanah. We still have a job to do. The first of which is simple. We must find out where this young woman was killed.” Cecilia grunted only to have the Constable give her a strange look. Cecilia could tell that she needed to explain her reasoning. “This body was placed here for us to find Constable Hall.”
“An’ ‘ow d’ ya’ figure tha’ ma’ Lady?” Hall asked her. The man’s thick Cockney accent had Cecilia winching as it grated on her nerves. She never thought that she would appreciate would be her lessons in pronunciation in school.
“The amount of blood. There is not enough. If this woman had her heart cutout here. There would be a massive pool of blood covering the ground. As it did not rain last night, and no one washed it away. Where is the blood pool?” Cecilia asked. Then placed both of her hands, on top of her cane. “No, this body was placed here for you find. It as act to inspire terror among the masses.”
“Ya’ thin’ t’is wanker wan’s ta be bigger than Ol’ Jack then?” Hall asked her.
“No. I doubt that he wants to be bigger than Jack the Ripper. He wants to terrorize London in a way that Jack can only dream of. This criminal is wants to be something that can only be seen in nightmares.” Cecilia told the man. She knelt down next to the body by the feet. Looking at the gray soot on her feet Cecilia got a strange look on her face. “That is not normal coal soot or ash.”
“Ya’r right abo’t tha’ ma’ Lady. Tha’ is peatmoss soot.” At Cecilia’s look of confusion Hall grinned. “Some o’ the local flop houses use peat to heat wit’. It’s cheaper than using coal.”
“Who else would use peatmoss Constable?” Cecilia asked quickly.
“Well, there is a long list of uses for peatmoss, ma’ Lady. One of the biggest users of peatmoss are whiskey distilleries. Though within the city limits I would look to the older churches and synagogues. After that I would look towards the waterfront warehouses.” Chief Inspector Smith said as he walked up to the crime scene. “Lady Cecilia, I’m surprised to see you out and about this early.”
“I’m a very early raiser, Chief Inspector. One of the nice things about being an early raiser is getting to see the city in it’s glory before the day strips away its beauty.” Cecilia snarked then looked down at the naked body of the girl as she stood up. “Though there are certain parts of the night that tend to hang over into the morning spoiling that beauty. First of which is murder most foul.”
“Indeed. My I have a word alone with her Ladyship, Constable?” Smith asked Hall. The Constable just nodded his head and left the two woman and his boss alone. In hushed tones Smith asked. “My lady is this crime related to the mummies?”
“It is, Inspector. Though this time we have clue as to where she was murdered. The first one in these ghastly crimes. We just need to find which furnace was burning peatmoss last night.” Cecilia told him honestly. “There cannot be too many. After all last night was not that cold.”
“There are more than you would think Lady Cecilia. Lately the number of peat burners has grown thanks the raising cost of coal. Mostly among the dockside warehouses.” The more Smith talked about the use of peatmoss among the more industrial buildings the more Cecilia frowned in thought. “What are you thinking about Lady Cecilia?”
“Which churches and synagogues would be using peatmoss, Inspector?” Cecilia asked.
“Why would we look to holy places?” Smith asked in shock.
“Because whoever did this. Want’s to desecrate those places.” She said while pointing down at the body. “Remember our talk yesterday. This is just the beginning of their grab for power.”
“I’ll have my men search all the churches near here. Then work their way outward.” Smith told her and turned to hand out his instructions.
“Inspector have them concentrate their search on the basement areas.” Cecilia told the Inspector. Only to get a frown of confusion. “They would need to perform their little ceremony away from preying eyes.”
Before he could give her his answer a Constable from the local Station House ran up to him. “Sir. I think you need to come with me. There is something you need to see at Saint Agnes Holy Roman Church.”
When Cecilia heard this, she quickly turned to the ever-present Savanah. “We need to get to this church now.”
“I’ll fetch the carriage Mistress.” Savanah said and disappeared.
“Inspector if you’ll come with me. You can ride with me in the household carriage.” Cecilia offered the Inspector as a way to get inside the church crime scene. A short time later Cecilia, Savanah, and Inspector Smith stepped down from the Phantomhive carriage in front of the Saint Agnes Holy Roman Church.
“Thank you for the ride, Lady Cecilia. Though I wish that this were one ride that I did not need.” Smith said as he looked up at the 200-year-old church. “What I still don’t understand is what these people hope to gain? It has to be more than power. There must be some underlying need behind all this.”
“It is as I said yesterday, Inspector. These people believe they are saving the Empire. They’ll do whatever it takes.” Cecilia sighed sadly then turned to face the doors of the church. “They’re willing to sacrifice an entire city to insure that.”
“Countess Cecilia, I have to ask. Is all this mumbo jumbo real?” Smith asked her quietly so that no one else would hear.
“Yes, Inspector. It is all very real.” Cecilia told the man next to her. “It is also extremely dangerous in the hands of the uninformed.”
“And you’re the one who has been charged with handling such matters for the Queen.” Smith grunted as he looked over at the young woman beside him. “You’ll have to forgive me, my Lady. I do not envy the tasks you and your cousin are charged with.”
“That is the curse of the Phantomhive family. We have always acted as Her Majesty’s Watchdog and Alleycat. We do what the Constabulary cannot. All so the people of Her Empire can sleep soundly at in their beds.” Cecilia told him as she started up the steps to the church doors. “The world you have been drawn into is not one for the faint of heart or weak of faith, Inspector.”
“After what I saw within the museum and down at the park Lady Cecilia. I believe you have just made the understate of the year.” Smith said as he held the door for the Lady and her Maid. As the two young women stepped through the door Savanah gave an involuntary shutter. “Are you alright Ms. Savanah?”
“Thank you kindly, Inspector but there’s no need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Savanah told the man with a sickly-sweet smile.
“If you’ll wait here Ladies. I’ll find out where we need to go.” Smith said as he gave Savanah the once over one more time. “Are you sure you’re okay Ms. Savanah?”
“Very much so, Inspector. Please see about our business sir.” Savanah gestured with her right hand as she gave a short curtsy. Cecilia wanted to laugh at the way her Maid played the Inspector.
“Savanah are you sure that you’re going to be alright?” Cecilia asked of her one true Protector. She has reason to worry. After all Savanah was a demon.
“Do you know the deference between angles and demons Mistress? I’ll give you a hint it has night to do with the concepts of good and evil. After all we were both created by the same God.” At Cecilia’s blank expression Savanah chuckled. “There is none. Angles are the flip side of demons. Only demons fell out of favor with the gods. We both have the blood of innocence’s on our hands in the name of the Gods. That blood is the price angles and demons pay to enter such holy places as this.”
“I never really thought of it that way. I guess I lost my faith in a merciful god on the battlefield.” Cecilia chuckled as she looked up at the stained-glass window of Saint Agnes. “Then again the Almighty did give his angles weapons. Even God knew that you don’t fight evil with tolerance and understanding.”
Savanah chuckled at Cecilia’s comment about angles and weapons. “Very true Mistress. Though what is one man’s evil is another man’s faith.”
Cecilia just snorted. “Good and evil are nothing more than the constructs of humans. Is that what you’re saying Savanah?”
“No Mistress. There is true evil and true good in the world. My brother and I are examples of what humans consider true evil. Angles are examples of what humans would consider true good. The fact of the matter couldn’t be further from the truth. Angles are just as self-serving and egotistical as demons. The only real deference between demons and angles is our final motivation. Demons want human souls to feed upon and torment in hell. Angles say they want to save human souls for heavenly reward.” Savanah chuckled then grinned nastily as she whispered. “Something neither of us shall ever see, my Lady.”
“I would gladly forbear any heavenly reward for my vengeance.” Cecilia snarled just before Inspector Smith returned. “We’ll continue this talk later. Here comes Smith.”
“Lady Cecilia if you’ll fallow me.” Smith asked as he waved towards the back of the church. As Cecilia and Savanah joined him. “Lady Cecilia you were right.”
“About?” Cecilia asked him.
“The murder took placed in the basement. Though there are some, I don’t know how to explain what I saw down there.” Smith shivered as he thought about the scene bellow the church. “I’ve seen some insane things in my carrier, my Lady. What I saw down there defies all logic.”
“I understand. Don’t worry Inspector. I have seen that which is impossible to understand before while in India. Please lead on?” Cecilia asked of the man. She could tell that whatever was waiting for them bellow unsettled him greatly.
As the trio entered the basement Cecilia spotted another Constable standing over by a second and stairway leading further down. After a second set of stairs, they finally reached a candlelit stone chamber. Cecilia’s eyes were drawn to the center of the chamber. There stood a marble sarcophagus. Cecilia could tell that is was more than 300yrs old. “Where is the Priest for this Church?”
“He’s upstairs. Why?” Smith asked in confusion.
“I need to know exactly when this church was built. I also need to know if there was another structure here before the church.” Cecilia explained for him.
“This church was built in the mid-twelfth century on the site of an abandoned Roman temple.” One of the Constables in the room answered. At Cecilia’s questioning look he blushed. “I’m member of the Congregation here, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Constable. Anything else you can tell me about this church?” Cecilia asked with no amount of the irritation she felt.
“During the first, second, third, Crusades the old temple was used a rally point for knights heading for the Holy Land. It was also one of the first places that the returning knights came to once back in England. Down in the catacombs there are supposed to be another thirty to forty of these sarcophaguses. Nobody knows because if want you go any lower, you’ll need to breath underwater.” The Constable chuckled.
“I see. All of the lower levels are flooded.” Cecilia looked over at Smith. “Inspector the other murder sites. Were there lower levels that were inaccessible as well? Please this is very important.”
“Only one of the other murder sites had a lower level now that I of it.” Smith told her thinking hard about the second site. “Yes, ma’am. It was also flooded.”
“It is a I thought.” Cecilia turned to Savanah. “The failures of the ceremony was because they couldn’t get to the lowest points of each site.”
“That has to be why they need the Source Crystal. They knew that they couldn’t reach the lowest points for all the sacrificial sites. They’re storing the gathered power of the rituals until they can release it all at once.” Savanah sighed in explanation. Savanah stepped over to examen the summoning circle carved around the sarcophagus. “My Lady, this circle is deferent from the others. They’ve made changes to the summoning sigil. This one is for the Demon Prince Bozroman.”
“Why would they make that change I wonder?” Cecilia asked aloud.
“Could there be two sects with this cult of the Chosen Ones of Eternal Doom?” Smith put forth with real thought. “Because if there is, they could be working towards sperate goals. One sect wanting to change history the other wanting to hasten the downfall of our enemies perhaps.”
“You could be on the right track Inspector.” Savanah answered honestly. “Bozroman is called the Demon Prince of Destruction.”
“They also could be trying to raise both.” Cecilia pointed out coldly. “One specifically to destroy the enemies of the Empire. The other to change the course of history and time. These criminals have but one goal.”
“What would that be Lady Cecilia?” Inspector Smith asked in confusion.
“The total subjection of our Empire.” Cecilia answered. “These men want more than just power. They desire to place themselves above even our Queen.”
“Do you believe you can stop them Lady Cecilia?” Smith asked with worry.
“I don’t have a choice, Inspector. I either stop them or die trying.” Cecilia turned and walked away. “Our work here is done Savanah.”
As the two women left Savanah sniffed the air then frowned. “We have company, my Lady. They’re waiting for us just beyond the next side street.”
“Then let us not keep them waiting, Savanah. Any sign of our real quarry?” Cecilia asked as she opened her jacket.
“Just one. Wilton Mitchell the criminal master mind and boss for Edinburgh crime syndicate. He has seven of his top lieutenants with him.” Savanah said with a nasty grin. “This should be quite fun my Lady.”
“Indeed.” Cecilia snorted. Then grinned just as nastily. With this in mind she led Savanah into the alley. She pulled the pistol before she took three steps and fired at the first man to step into view. She hit man in the upper left shoulder. She adjusted her stance and hold on the pistol before firing again. This time she dropped her intended target with a shot through the head.
Savanah wasn’t standing around as her Mistress dispatched the first two henchmen. She sped pass her and into the heart of the group killing two henchmen in her passing. She grabbed Wilton Mitchell by the throat. She lifted him off the ground and squeezed. “You know you really should easy off the cologne. I smelled your foal stench as we exited the church.”
Cecilia fired once more killing the remaining henchman. She returned her pistol to its holster. “Savanah please be nice enough to not kill Mitchell just yet.”
“Of course, my Lady. I am merely trying to get this fool’s undivided attention.” Savanah answered sweetly as she dropped Mitchell face first in the muddy street. With slow and deliberate steps, she moved to stand just behind her. “I do hope you plan to listen to my Lady, Mister Mitchell.”
Mitchell slowly pushed himself off the street. As he did, Mitchell took in the state of his lieutenants. He was shocked to realize that of the seven men had brought with him only one was still alive. Even that one man was in no shape to put up a fight. Not with a hole big enough to put a fist through in his shoulder. “You’re more than you seem Alleycat. I have to ask. Do you really believe you can stop us? You have no allies. You have resources. No one to call on except that maid. Not even your cousin can help you.”
“You poor diluted fool.” Cecilia sighed as she reached up and lifted her eye patch. Seeing Cecilia show the sign of their contract Savanah removed her left glove. “This is the sign of my contract with the one you would summon.”
“A contract formed from a wish, a desire, paid for with blood, bone, and flesh. As surely as it binds me to her wishes, it binds her to me. At her command I would happily slit your throat.” Savanah told Mitchell with a sadistic smile. “Though I believe she has a few questions for you.”
“You’ll get nothing from me whores, but your deaths.” Mitchell snarled as he pull a revolver from his jacket and fired nonstop until the last round. As the smoke cleared, he started chuckling. “Not even you Phantomhive scum can stand up to high powered lead rounds. See you in hell bitch.”
“You know you really should be more careful of where you point that pistol when you fire it.” Savanah whispered in his ear. Then she dropped the six fired rounds into his shirt pocket. “Oh, I believe these belong to. Caliber three-fifty-seven magnum long Welby if I’m not mistaken. Here let me take that nasty thing off your hands.”
As Mitchel’s mind caught up with what just happen, I felt an unbarring pain in his right arm. He looked down at his hand and forearm to find them both bent at an odd angel. The scream that ripped from his throat was ear piercing. As Mitchell fell to his knees in pain Cecilia slowly drew the sword from her cane.
“You know something Mitchell I should turn you over to my cousin. After all you do fall under his duties. He is after all the Queen’s Watchdog.” With each word she drew closer and closer to the kneeling man. “But my Maid is correct. You have information that I need. Ciel would just kill you and be done with the whole matter. However, if you answer my questions. I may just let you live.”
“Ask your questions. I’ll tell you what you want know. Just kept that crazy bitch away from me.” Mitchell whimpered as he crawled backwards to the wall behind him.
“First, tell the names for the rest of the members in your little club. Second, what demon are you trying to raise. Lastly, why would you do something so foolish.” Cecilia snarled as she place the tip of her sword to his chin.
“It won’t do you any good. So, I’ll tell you anyway. Lord Ward Butler Current Duke of Edinburgh. Steel magnet and millionaire Sumner Stone. Gerard Read Northwestern coal mines owner. Lady Bernice Hand shipping tycoon and arms smuggler. Lastly is Ruel Magrath owner of Federated arms manufacturer. As for the demon we want to raise there are two, the Demon Prince Bozroman and our demon Lord and master Thorgonnoth, Demon Prince of the Eternal Doom. As for our reasons they are not foolish. We would save our Empire from the decadent influences from the rest of the world by making them our rightful subjects. Starting with those filthy frogs across the channel. Those French pigs have been a thorn in our nation’s side for too long.” Mitchell hissed between clenched teeth.
“You would throw the world into a global war just to erase some perceived insult and threat.” Cecilia sighed and flipped the tip of her sword upward. Cutting open Mitchell’s chin and returned her blade’s point to Mitchell’s Adam’s apple. “It may be better that I am the one to deal with you and your ilk, Mitchell. Because my cousin would be far too lenient with you.”
“Wha… wha… do you mean? What global war? We only have to destroy the French.” Mitchell stammered out. “Once we do that the rest of the world will bow before us.”
“No, Mitchell they won’t.” Cecilia sighed. “The Germans, Dutch, Austrians, will all raise up against us. They MIGHT dislike the French, but they HATE us. Those countries will come to the aid of the French for no other reason than to put us down. The Canadians would use that chance to break away from our Empire. I won’t even talk about those bastard colonists the Americans would do to us.”
“You talk as if you can see the future child. The problem is you couldn’t be further from the truth. The rest of the continent will go out of their way to let the Frogs fall to our wrath. As for those foolish colonials. They’re nothing more than hedge-creepers and meaters. They would peg for us to take them back.” Mitchel huffed.
“For a criminal mastermind you really are stupid.” Cecilia sighed and shook her head. “You have no idea of the sheer madness that will envelope the world if you and your pathetic friends are not stopped.”
“What do you mean?” The note of sadness in Cecilia’s voice grabbed at Mitchell’s soul. There was something about it that made him wonder at her reasoning. “What do you know that we do not, Alleycat? You speak as if you come from another time.”
“Because I do. One far into the future, Mitchell.” Cecilia sighed as she pushed her sword through the man’s neck. As she stood over the man watching the life drain from his eyes Cecilia gave him one last piece of advice. “It’s better that you and all your kind now. In this era of history. When you still cannot fathom the true horrors that are to come in just a few short decades.”
Pulling a rose red linen handkerchief from her cloak pocket Savanah whipped down Cecilia’s blade. “You showed him far too much mercy, my Lady. You should have made him pay for his foolishness. You have no hope of mercy or heavenly reward for yourself. Why would you show any for our enemy?”
“Because I’m still human you damned demon.” Cecilia snarled as she returned her sword to hiding place inside of her cane. “You will feast heavily on my soul when the time comes while savoring each bite as it were a decadent sweet from the greatest of chocolate factories in all the world. That I promise you, bitch.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that, my Lady. I just wonder at why you gave Mitchell such a clean and quick death?” Savanah asked as she fell in behind Cecilia as she turned to leave the alleyway.
“Mitchell was nothing more than pond scum. He was undeserving of my vengeance, only my pity. He was in truth nothing more than a dupe in Lord Butler’s plan. Much needed muscle for acquiring the needed sacrifices.” Cecilia snarled as she stepped back into the morning light of London. She sighed and looked around. “Such a beautiful day turned gloomy in so short a time. Let’s go home Savanah. I need a bath.”
“Of course, my Lady. Wait here while I fetch the carriage.” Savanah said before disappearing with blinding speed.
“I really must have a talk her about showing such supernatural talents in public.” Cecilia sighed as she adjusted her eyepatch. A habit she was rapidly developing whenever she was upset or nervous. “At least now I have the names of my enemies.”
“Ah, but why would such a lovely creature have enemies?” The voice was refined yet had a slight Chinese accent. Cecilia knew the voice and the man to which it belonged. “Though I must admit to having a problem with you young lady. You killed one of my business associates. Do you have any idea of the cost your actions are going to cost me? It’ll take me months to replace Mitchell.”
“I could care less, Lau. As far as I’m concerned you could go bankrupted and starve before I give a shit about you and your operations.” Cecilia snarled as she turned to face the Chinese Nobleman. “In my eyes Lau you are nothing more than unprincipled mercenary. You do nothing more than curry favor with those you think will allow you and your business to advance. Namely those who are ambitious, such as my cousin. You will find in me a foe that has little tolerance for back alley scum like you. Even if you ingratiated yourself within Scotland Yard, despite your mafia origins, I know you only do so long as you could profit.”
“You wound me, Madam. Though just who is your cousin that you believe you can be so carefree with slaying one of my men?” Lau asked fearfully of the beautiful young English noblewoman as he finally got a good look at her face.
“You know damned well who my cousin is you slug. I suggest that you be about your business and leave me to mine.” Cecilia huffed then gave the confusion Chinaman a sigh of frustration. “But by the look on your face you have no idea of who my cousin is. Let me enlighten you. Earl Ceil Phantomhive. I am the Countess Cecilia Phantomhive. Now move on Lau.”
“Oh my dear Countess Phantomhive please forgive me.” Lau said as he bowed over her left to give it a kiss. “I failed most brazenly in seeing the family resemblances. You really must allow me to make amends for my mistake.”
The more Lau held her gloved hand the more Cecilia felt like she needed a bath. “Let go of my hand Lau or you’ll pull back a stump.”
“But my Lady I must insist that you allow me to make up for my mistake.” Lau persisted as he started to pull her towards his own destination. He was so insistent on getting her to fallow him somewhere she didn’t want to go that Lau never saw her draw the Colt pistol until it was too late.
“Let go of my hand you wharf rat. Before I blow your head off.” Cecilia snarled as she cocked the hammer back on her pistol. “Ceil may have uses and have to tolerate you but I don’t have too. NOW!”
“Of course, Countess. If you should find yourself in need while in the Eastend. Please seek me out.” Lau showed an uncommon amount of self-preservation as he dropped the Noblewoman’s hand and slowly backed away. “Until I bide you good-day.”
“Disgusting pig. I believe that I need to have word with Ceil. That man is getting too full of himself for his own damned good. On second thought I think I’ll have Savanah pay him a visit instead.” As Lau slinked off into the surround city populace Cecilia shivered. Looking in the direction Lau had gone Cecilia snarled. “A midnight visit where he loses his damn lips.”
At the time Savanah returned with the estate carriage. Cecilia pulled her gloves off her hands as she mounted handing them to her Maid. “Burn these and replace them by tomorrow morning, Savanah. Take us home. I really need a bath now. I feel as if just swam through the lowest reaches of the London sewer system.”
“Did something happen whilst I was retrieving the carriage my Lady?” Savanah asked with a small curtsy. Wondering why she didn’t feel the threat through their link.
“I ran into that slug Lau.” Cecilia snarled. “I really must have a talk with Ceil.”
“Allow me to handle the problem Mistress.” Savanah snarled. “I will be more than happy to teach the man his proper place. Not to mention the needed manners when dealing with a young Lady of breeding.”
“Not at this time Savanah. Sadly, that pig Lau falls under my cousin’s protection. Because of this I need to let him deal with man first.” Cecilia sighed as she sat back watching the city roll by her window. “Though next you can just go ahead and scalp him. Starting at his neck.”
Savanah gave a delighted chuckled at hearing how her Mistress reacted to Lua’s advances. She could still see the fisty hardheaded young man she first meet in that base of Futuristic Demons Dance Club. The fire of revenge burned brighter than ever before in the young woman that sat across from her. As she sat there studying the young woman Savanah kept her thoughts to herself.
‘Yes, dear brother you were so right. Why did I never see this before. When the time is right, and I finally pluck this soul. I will feast upon something truly magnificent. I shall never again blindly feed upon a soul that presents itself me. From now I shall foster a soul to its full potential before devouring.’ Savanah had to hide her smile of satisfaction behind her hand. She did not need Cecilia seeing how much she was looking forward to the day of her revenge and death.
Savanah looked down at the gloves that Cecilia had handed her and smirked. ‘Lau I’ll have to thankyou once I get the chance. Your inadvertent sexualized innuendos has fanned the smoldering flames of my Mistress’s revenge into a rage inferno. How delightful. I wonder what would happen if she should face a true sexual deviant?’
While Savanah wondered how she could torment her Mistress with fun filled sexual situations Cecilia was occupied with darker thoughts. Thoughts that filled her with more than just dread. When she was a man her pastime had always been the study of history. One of her favorite times for study was the Great War and the impact it had had on every family within the United Kingdom along with all of Europe. She knew that the First World War could not be avoided, but there was no reason for it to happen ahead of time. She could see the ramifications of a World War happening in the later part of the 19th century. The death toll would be two to three times higher and the amount of casualties even higher than that.
“The Americans lost six-hundred-and-twenty-thousand just a few decades ago in the Civil War. Then just under fifty-years later World War One happens. It was one of the deadliest conflicts in the history of our race. Over sixteen-million people died in those four years of senseless conflict. The total number of both civilian and military casualties is estimated at around thirty-seven-million people. That damned war killed almost seven million civilians and ten million military personnel.” Cecilia mumbled to herself.
“More than seventy-million military personnel, including sixty-million Europeans, were mobilized making it one of the largest wars in history. It is also one of the deadliest conflicts in our history. With an estimated nine-million combatant deaths and thirteen-million civilian deaths as a direct result of the war. The resulting genocides and the related 1918 Spanish flu pandemic caused another seventeen to one hundred–million deaths worldwide. Not including an estimated the two-point-six-eight million Spanish flu deaths in Europe and as many as six-hundred-seventy-five-thousand Spanish flu deaths in the United States.” Cecilia continued to mumble to no one in particular.
“All because of one man’s twisted ideals. Then again the Second World War happened for much the same reason.” Cecilia let out a heavy put-upon sigh of anger and frustration. Slamming her first into the seat next her Cecilia growled. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let someone start that kind of war in my lifetime. Not if I can help it. For some reason I do believe that I can.”
“Do not worry, Mistress. The Great War will happen when it is supposed to happen. Not a moment sooner. If I may point something out.” Savanah asked politely with a knowing smirk and nasty glint in her eyes. At Cecilia’s nod Savanah chuckled. “The timeline as your scientists are so fond of calling history is fixed. Despite what the so-called theorists of your day would say. There is only one power in the universe that can even attempt to make that radical change to the timeline. The God of Time, Chronos. And even he would have problems making that grand of change.”
“I thought that the Demon Thorgonnoth, could make that kind of a change.” Cecilia pointed out in confusion.
“He can, but only if a large enough sacrifice could be made in his name.” Savanah pointed out then turned thoughtful. “This World War you talked about. How many people did you say died in combat?”
“They say the total number of both civilian and military casualties is estimated at around thirty-seven-million people. Though that was not all at once. It was over a four-year period. Why?” Cecilia asked.
“If the Cult could place Source Crystals at certain points around the battlefield. They would be able to absorb all of those lost souls. With that much power concentrated in one place. These Chosen Ones of Eternal Doom really could use the demon Thorgonnoth change the future timeline. No matter what the God Chronos wanted. They could change it to the point that you would never have been born.” Savanah explained for her mistress while deep in thought.
“Oh shit! Savanah what are the chances of another individual from the future traveling back through time the way I did?” Cecilia asked in fear.
“To be honest, my Lady. Too good. I wouldn’t put it pass one of our suspects as being a spiritual time traveler.” Savanah answered bluntly. “The problem is which one. We have a total of five.”
“Let’s break them down by what we know about them. First there is Lord Ward Butler the current Duke of Edinburgh. The man is in his late sixties. Could someone that old be our time traveler?” Cecilia asked with the mind of a profiler.
“No. He is too old. He would have had to start his plan in his teens. Just as you have started your hunt for revenge.” Savanah answered honestly. “There is also the fact that he is always alone. No demon would allow such a tasty treat to wonder far. It would also take a demon of station.”
“Fine. Then what about this Lady Bernice Hand? Do we know anything about her?” Cecilia asked of her maid.
“I fear that any further speculation of the other members will result in nothing more than empty theories, my Lady. Allow me to gather what public information there is on these other four. Then we can form a true plan for gaining your vengeance.” Savanah said as she moved to stand next to the carriage door.
“Go! Find out what you can Savanah. Be back by diner.” Cecilia ordered.
“Of course, my Lady.” Savanah answered and stepped out the moving carriage. Cecilia chuckled as the maid disappeared in the dust thrown up by the moving carriage.
“I really need to have a talk with my Maid about shows of supernatural nature.” Cecilia sighed and looked back of the window to the left. “A World War before it’s time. Could it really happen? Why would someone from my time want to start that horror? Stopping it that I can see happening.”
“God damn it! I need more information.” Cecilia slammed her fist into the seat next to her. “What I wouldn’t give for access to my laptop and the Internet.”
“Or someone who understands the principals of probability.” Cecilia said as she spied the Fellowship of the Royal Society building. Using her cane to pound on the roof of the carriage Cecilia called out. “Driver change of destination. I need to make a quick stop at the Fellowship of the Royal Society.”
“Right away Miss.” The driver answered back as he took the next left at the cross street. It didn’t take him long before he was pulling in front of the Society hall. Once stopped the driver set the break and hoped down to help Cecilia from his carriage. “Here we are Miss. I don’t know what kind of reception you’ll see though.”
“Don’t worry sir. I have a change that I doubt the good Fellows well be able to turn away.” Cecilia said with a smile. “Besides if one needs a scientist there is no better place than the Royal Society to find one.”
The driver just nodded his head at the young Lady’s answer and watched her as she climbed the steps to the door. After she was shown inside, he climbed back up to his seat to wait. He didn’t except her to be long. After all the gentlemen of the Followship weren’t known for their tolerance or respect for the fairer sex. The driver started to chuckle. “They’ll be fools to underestimate that young Lady.”
Inside the Fellowship the driver’s words could not have been more prophetic. The Halls Steward stopped Cecilia at the foyer. “Young lady this is a gentlemen’s society. Ladies are not permitted.”
“Ah but sir I’m not in the hall. I’m in the foyer. As for why I’m here I need to assistance of you finest minds in the world. Now if this not the Fellowship of the Royal Society then I shall happily leave.” Cecilia smiled sweetly, then went in for the kill. “Please inform Lord Rushmore that Countess Cecilia Phantomhive is here.”
“Right away, ma’ Lady Phantomhive.” The Steward blanched at hearing the young woman’s name. He knew that if there was a Phantomhive in the Hall then they were here on the Queen’s business. “If you’ll please follow me to the solaria?”
Cecilia smiled and nodded her head in compliance. She accepted the fact that there was no way in the nine hells that the Steward was going to allow her beyond that point. At least not at gunpoint. After being safely escorted to the solaria to wait for Lord Rushmore, Cecilia wondered over to the far wall to study the shelves of books that lined it. She wanted to chuckle at some of the topics the books covered.
The opening of the door on the other side of the room drew her attention away from the bookshelves. The man who entered was in his late fifties with graying hair and beard. Cecilia was slightly surprised to see in his right hand he held a Meerschaum churchwarden’s pipe. The smell of a Cavendish blend tobacco reached her nose. For some reason the idea of this English gentleman smoking an American tobacco tickled Cecilia’s funny bone. With a smile she gave Lord Rushmore a small curtsy.
“Thank you for seeing me, Lord Rushmore.” Cecilia said with a smile.
“The honor is mine Countess. Though I do have to admit to something. I was expecting to see your mother.” Rushmore told her honestly as he pulled the door closed. “I understand that you have need of the Fellowship.”
“Yes sir. I have found myself in a quandary. One that deals with principals of probability.” Cecilia sighed in feigned self-resignation. “A topic that is far outside of my limited experience, and education sir.”
“Principals of probability, you say?” Lord Rushmore asked in amazement as he took a draw off of his pipe. “I must admit that is not my field of study, but I do know just the man you should talk to.”
Opening the door Rushmore called out. “Jacob, please fetch Professor Morgan for me and be quick about it. No need to keep the Lady Phantomhive waiting.” After closing the door, he turned back to Cecilia. “May I interest you in something to drink Countess while we for the Professor?”
“Thank you, but no, sir. I had tea with a friend no more than a half an hour ago.” Cecilia lied sweetly not wanting to insult the man. The fact was she wanted a stiff shot of brandy or whiskey just then after the morning she had so far. Then just for fun decided to see if she could get a sherry out of the man. “Unless you happen to have a nice sherry or brandy here by?”
“The Society happens to keep such refreshments on hand in here for when we have Lady callers. Though I do wonder what your mother would said of you abiding in drink so early in the day?” Rushmore asked with a raised eyebrow.
“She would probably raise the roof with me and you.” Cecilia giggled behind her hand then turned sad. “Oh how I wish she were here to raise that ruckus.”
“I see. You’ve lost both your parents then?” Rushmore asked kindly.
“Along with my fiancé sir. Less than a year ago now.” Cecilia said sadly keeping up the lie. “To tell you the truth sir. I’m here on business for the Queen. After what I have seen this morning, I could use something to fortify my nerves.”
“I see.” Rushmore looked down at Cecilia’s left hand at hearing she was here on business for the Queen. “Her Majesty’s Alleycat has coming hunting answers.”
“Indeed, I have, sir.” Cecilia told him with a feral grin. “Now about that drink?”
----tbc-----
Sorry for the delay. It seems that Beira, the Queen of Winter has decided to play marry hell with my Internet connection.
Chapter 4
Fellowship of the Royal Scientific Society, London: Saturday, 3rd September 1888: 01:45pm
“I believe that you’ll find this sherry to your liking, Countess. It is a delightful Jerez Dulce. My wife tells me that it has a slightly sweeter than normal taste. An almost chocolaty flavor.” Rushmore said as he hand the glass of black wine to the Countess Cecilia. He could tell right away that the young woman was no stranger to alcohol. Not with the way she sipped her sherry.
“Thank you, sir. As much as I hate to say this, but I truly need this.” Cecilia said with a grateful smile. “After what I have witnessed these last few days, I fear I might need a few more bottles of sherry at home.”
“May I know what has the Queen’s Alleycat on edge?” Lord Rushmore asked as he fixed himself a tumbler of Irish whiskey.
“Murders most foul sir. Done not for profit or shock effect as a warning but in pursuit of mystical power. It is these murders that have brought me to your grand halls of knowledge.” Cecilia told him bluntly.
“While our membership comprises the finest minds in all of the Empire and most of the world. I fear that we lack any real understanding of the metaphysical sciences.” Lord Rushmore grunted honestly. “Yet you said you have a question concerning the principals of probability. Can you elaborate on the problem?”
“I know that this may sound outlandish but is it possible for two people from two deferent times to travel back into time with the soul prepose of preventing a calamity? One of such massive proportions that it will change the course of world politics. Not to mention the way that nations fight wars.” Cecilia asked before she took another drink of her sherry.
“I might I know the extent of this calamity and the type?” Lord Rushmore asked with real curiosity. He was intrigued by the question his quest had proposed.
“War sir. War on a scale never seen before. Not between just two nations. A war waged on a global scale. A true World War.” Cecilia answered as the door to the solar was open by a man in his mid-fifties.
Cecilia did a quick evaluation of the man and placed his age at around fifty-five. He was around five-nine, hundred-eighty pounds, with salt and pepper hair and a graying beard. The man was obviously a teaching Professor as indicated by the chalk smear on his left lapel. The gold chain leading to the left breast pocket was to light for a watch letting her know that he was in all rights nearsighted. The heavy watch chain hanging from his right vest pocket plus the obvious bulge of a Hamilton 1881 Railroad pocket watch. After taking all of this in Cecilia figured that this man was the Professor Morgan.
“You asked for me Lord Rushmore?” Morgan asked as he eyed the young woman in the solar. Before extending his hand to her. “Stanly Morgan at your service, my Lady.”
“Cecilia Phantomhive, Professor.” Cecilia answered as he bowed over her hand.
“Excuse me, my Lady. But did you said Phantomhive? As in the Earl of Phantomhive? The Queen’s Watchdog?” Morgan asked as he stood up straight looking over at Rushmore.
“Ceil is my cousin, Professor. Allow me to reintroduce myself. Countess Cecilia Phantomhive, the Queen’s Alleycat.” Cecilia answered before taking the last drink of her sherry. “Might I have another glass of that delightful sherry, Lord Rushmore?”
“Of course, Countess. Though I do suggest moderation in the intake of strong spirits.” Rushmore warned the young Countess.
“No need to worry over that situation, sir. I learned my lesson the hard way during my travels across the Americas.” Cecilia said as she faked a shiver at a bad memory. “I shall never again partake of that witch’s brew the Americans call fine whiskey.”
Both men chuckled at was clearly a bad memory of a fun filled night during the young woman’s travels. Thankfully both men were too much a gentleman to pursue the topic of her drinking. Lord Rushmore handed her a refilled glass of sherry before turning to Morgan. “Professor Morgan our guest has come to us with a rather challenging question of probabilities.”
“Naturally, you thought of my work in the field. Fix me a pint of biters and I shall endeavor to solve the Countess’s question.” Morgan told Rushmore. Who just smiled at the Professor as he handed over the aforementioned drink. “Thank you, sir. Now, Countess, what is this challenge you face?”
“To put it simply Professor. Can two individuals from deferent times travel back through time to a point in history in the hopes of diverting a world calamity?” Cecilia just knew that she was going to get a lecture on the impossibilities of her question by the Professor from the look on his face. So, you can imagine her surprise when he actually took her question with real interest.
“I take it that this is not a hypothetical question, Countess?” Morgan asked with real concern. Then frowned as she nodded her head in answer. “To be honest Countess if such a situation were to occur the ramifications would be more than problematic at best to calculate. The deciding factor would be if the two individuals were of the same mind. If one were sent to stop the other, it would all come down to who was the more successful in their endeavors. For example, if one of the individuals was set here to stop the other from changing the timeline.”
“Can you please explain that a little better for me Professor?” Cecilia asked.
“Let me think. Ah I know just the example. Let’s say that subject A wants to stop the assassination of a tyrannical world leader. This assassination sets about a series of events that brings about a revolution in that nation in the current timeline. Yet that revolution brings about freedom for the whole of the nation. If that assassination were to be stopped then the revolution won’t happen, and the nation will remain under a tyrannical rule until the next generation takes the throne. This is subject A’s goal, to stop the assassination. Now subject B has been sent back in time to stop subject A and keep the timeline from changing.” The more Morgan got into the hypotheticals of the situation the more Cecilia became convinced that she was here to stop the Chosen Ones of Eternal Doom.
“There is a third option where in the actions of both subjects actually change the timeline regards of their individual missions. Only this change will not so much as affect the totality of the timeline and the calamity still happens. Only the final totality of the calamity would be affected. It could be either greater or lesser. Depending on which of the subjects was successful in their mission.” Morgan explained for Cecilia with some further thought. Then he gave Cecilia’s face a hard look. “Your question has something to do with a case that you’re working Countess. Though I am no expert in the metaphysical sciences I would postulate that you have found yourself imboiled in such a situation through the means of the mystical arts.”
“Professor Morgan, please! Show some decorum! We are men of science after all. You cannot possibly believe that such a situation could happen through mysticism that mathematics and true science cannot accomplish? While time travel is a theriacal concept. It has yet to be proven.” Rushmore demanded of his counterpart.
“I do indeed Lord Rushmore. While the mathematics, scientific, and technical engineering has not been accomplished at this time. That doesn’t mean that sometime in the future someone hasn’t cracked the problems of time travel. I could very well see someone using the technology to try and change the past. Though in all probability it will come about with the combination of the mystical arts and science Lord Rushmore.” Morgan explained with a straight face. “As much as I hate to say this the men that we really need to discuss this question with is Herbert Wells and Jules Verne. I know that they are writers of fiction yet they both gasp the concepts of time travel far better than I.”
“Those foolish writers of fantasy? Really Morgan?” Rushmore grunted.
“They maybe writers of fantasy Lord Rushmore but they have the mindset to grasp the complexities of time travel.” Morgan countered. “I’m afraid that true time travel will take someone who understands both magic and science.”
“I see. Then again what we see as magic is nothing more than an advanced science that we have yet to understand.” Rushmore countered much to Cecilia’s amusement. Despite herself she was enjoying the back and forth discuss her question had brought about between the two men. For some reason Cecilia had the feeling that her question would become the topic of more than one argument within the hollowed halls of the Royal Society of Science.
“Lord Rushmore, Professor Morgan, might we return to the topic at hand?” Cecilia asked politely. “I fear that my time is short this day.”
“Of course, Lady Cecilia. Where were we before we became sidetracked?” Rushmore asked of Morgan.
“The probability of two individuals traveling through time to change the future. Sadly. I fear that the odds are incalculable at this time. I would need more variables or defined boundaries before even trying to make those calculations.” Morgan told them both with a heavy sigh. “Though if I were working off just those few variables and I add in the possible use of mystical arts. I would be forced to say that the answer is yes. Though the reasoning behind the attempt is beyond me.”
“To stop the downfall of our Empire sir.” Cecilia answered bluntly. Both men just shook their heads in sadness.
“Empires rise and fall. This is a fundamental truth of history. Even our great Empire will fall in time. Like always there is more than a few factors that go into the fall of an Empire. No one calamity will bring about that fall from power.” Lord Rushmore sighed as he thought of the foolishness in trying to stop the inevitable.
“Why the very concept of trying to change the direction of a nation’s fate is like trying to stop the tides.” Morgan shuttered as he tried to do the math in his head. “Why I could spend the rest of my life trying to calculate the mathematical probabilities of such an endeavor.”
“In other words it is impossible to change the future?” Cecilia asked.
“Lady Cecilia the mathematics of trying to make such predictions could found a whole new field of study in the science of mathematics.” Morgan chuckled.
“Then I wish the best of luck sir. I for one am happy in being able to balance my banking ledger correctly.” Cecilia chuckled. The striking of the room’s mantel clock brought Cecilia’s to the time. “Thank you for your time gentlemen and for answering my question. I fear though that I must take my leave. Time grows short and I must be home in time for the evening meal.”
“Of course, Lady Cecilia. I must apologize for monopolizing your time. You must return for another visit. I find that you have a most intriguing mind.” Morgan said as he took her hand and bowed over it in a kiss.
“I must agree with my learned companion, Lady Cecilia. Please do not hesitate to darken our halls should you find yourself in need of our services. I dare say that more than a few of our members could use a good swift kick to their egos.” Rushmore snarked as he kissed the back of Cecilia’s hand. “I am sure that you could deliver those kicks with regularity.”
“I would be happy to supply those kicks sir. I am sure that I can find more than a few topics to challenge your fine membership. It seems that I have been cursed with a thirst for knowledge that my mother found rather embarrassing as well as challenging at times.” Cecilia said as she looked down at her widow’s weeds. “My fiancé often found my need to learn even more challenging.”
“I apologize for bringing up unpleasant memories, my Lady. I take it that your fiancé was a remarkable mam among men.” Rushmore said with a slight frown.
“For an American Southern Gentleman, he was rather brash, but he had a side to him that he only showed to me. I will say this though. If not for him I would not be here today. He believed that even a lady should know how to defend herself.” Cecilia giggled. “He made sure of that in my case.”
“In that case you can always find these Halls an advisor Countess. I’ll inform the Stewards that you are to be afford all courtesy.” Rushmore told her as he escorted Cecilia from the room.
Both men were amused by the how the young lady held herself in such a defiant and proud manner as she exited the building. Lord Rushmore waited until the young lady had left their halls before commenting. “That young lady had a deadly air about her that only a fool would ignore, Morgan.”
“It is more than that old boy. She is what our wives fear we’ll bring home to our sons. Intelligent, beautiful, graceful, and deadly as the pit viper.” Morgan said as he drained the last of his drink. “Though I do wonder at her questions still.”
“Yes, it was rather vague in it’s origan. Though you did bring up a point that has me concerned. It involves the mystical arts and science blending.” Rushmore said as he fix Morgan another drink. “Do you believe that the two can be blended in such a manner that you described.”
“I fear that it can happen, old man. The truly scary part is that the probabilities for such an occurrence happening before the turn of the century is well over one in three. If not one in two.” Morgan said as he pulled out a cigar from his jacket pocket. After biting off the end and lighting it with a match Morgan gave Rushmore a hard look. “I know that the Queen’s Watchdog has always been a member in absentee but why have you gift the Countess with the same privilege?”
“Because I fear that the Alleycat is far more than she appears. It would not do for us to alienate the young woman.” Rushmore answered as he relite his pipe. “There is a great power held within that young lady’s small body. If we fail to recognize her as a member in absentee. We shall pay a heavy price.”
“Then let us pray that she does not turn her anger on us.” Morgan sighed.
Rose Point Manor, Edinburgh, Scotland: Saturday, 3rd September, 1888: 08:45pm
Lord Ward Butler walked the halls of Rose Point Manor with more than a pensive look upon his face. He was still trying to figure out how his friend and fellow member of the Chosen Ones of Eternal Doom ended up dead in the streets of London. Of all their number Wilton Mitchell was the most careful. Yet no more an hour ago he was visited by privet messenger telling him that Wilton was found dead; his throat slit from ear to ear, with seven of his top lieutenants. It didn’t matter what else happened Ward knew that they could not stop their plans. Plans that without Wilton Mitchell’s criminal connections that just became harder to carry out.
“Damnation. How could he get himself killed when we were so close to reaching the first half of our goals. It just doesn’t make sense. Who could have gotten close enough to kill him?” Ward asked of the empty air.
“The fool let the Queen’s Alleycat find him. That is how.” Ward wasn’t expecting an answer to his question and spun on his heel ready to fight. Upon seeing his teenage wife Ward relaxed. “Really darling. You must work on your mystical barrier. I could have ended you with but a flip of my wrist.”
“Cordelia I must protest your use of magic within the upper reaches of the Manor.” Ward said in chastisement of his young wife. Then blanched as she raised her left hand hold a glowing ball of white fire. “Please control yourself Cordelia.”
“Let me be perfectly on this matter, Husband.” Cordelia Butler spat out the last word as if it was a curse. “You need me. I don’t need you. I did not travel back through the vail of space and time to bow to some man. It is my power that controls our little group. It is my power that will bring about the salvation of our Empire. It is my power that will control the Demon Thorgonnoth, Prince of the Eternal Doom. Understand this my husband. The only way to bind Thorgonnoth is through the sacrifice of the twenty-one newlywed couples and the twelve virgins. Without those there is no way to control the Prince. He will devore us all.”
“Worry not Cordelia. Even without Mitchell I will secure the needed sacrifices.” Ward stammered out with his eyes locked on the white glowing ball of fire.
“See that you do, husband. Fail me and I’ll feed you to Thorgonnoth myself.” With that Lady Cordelia Smith-Butler banished the spell in her hand and walked away. Much to Ward’s considerable relief.
Once he was alone again the man let his anger override his fear of his wife. “Once the Demon Price is bound to the world, I will no longer have any need of you bitch. When that time comes. You shall be the first sacrificed to his hunger.” Ward turned and walked towards the back stairwell. “Then your power shall be mine.”
As he entered the lower reaches of the Manor, Ward headed for the far back wall of the Manor. Here he pushed on a series of rocks. With a thud a secret panel swung outward revealing the ‘Priest’s hole’. As he entered the secret room, he smiled at the six young people laid out before his eyes. All but one had already been bound in twenty-one layers of heavy cotton, linen, and silken bandages. The shapes of their body obscured by the bandages removing all traces of their sexually. They had been turned into living mummies. Soon they and their final member would be placed in the waiting sarcophagi. Three days from now just like the first twelve mummies for Prince Thorgonnoth, they too would be delivered to the London Museum.
He walked over to the last victim naked victim. She had already been shaved from the top of her head to her toes. The six servants were slowly rubbing the girl’s body down with heavy oils. This was the final step in preparing her body. With slow and burning malice Ward runs his hand over the naked form of the girl. She couldn’t be more than seventeen and already married. Then again all of these newlyweds were still in their teenage years and the women were still virgins. He had spend a small fortune to insure that they were all properly wed by the local parish priest. Even if it was against their wills. All that was required for the ceremony was they were newlywed. Ward stepped back out of the way to watch as the final victim was prepared for her journey into the afterlife. By the servants that he had personally brought here from Egypt for this task.
All eight were men. All eight were artists of one discipline or the other. All eight were totally mute and loyal only to him. But most importantly of all. They were expendable. No one knew of their existence and should it become necessary Ward could seal them in this room for forever. No one would ever miss them if that should happen. They would simply die in this room and no one would ever know.
As he watched one of his servants lifts the girl’s right leg, while another lifts her left arm. Beginning with the fingers and toes two more servants begin to individually wrap each one tightly with small narrow cotton bandages while the last two pass over more bandages as needed. When all five of the fingers are done a wider roll is used to wrap the hand and wrist. The same is done with the foot and ankle once the toes are secured in their own wrappings.
A wider cotton roll is used to work on up the forearm and lower leg respectively, wrapping all the way up to the shoulder on the arm and the groin on the leg. The bandages are wrapped on with a three-quarter overlap which makes the layer relatively thick and ensures no flesh is left to peek out between turns of the cloth. Shifting positions and switching tasks as needed the servants laid down the bandaged limbs and pick up the other leg and arm.
These are wrapped in bandages in the same manner with the same effect. Shifting again, the servants repeat the cotton wrappings on the first two limbs so that two thick layers encase the arm and leg. A second layer was then done for the other two limbs as well. Going back to the first two limbs a third layer is started, but instead of individually wrapping the fingers and toes they are bound together this time leaving the girl’s hands looking like thumb less mittens.
When all of the girl’s arms and legs are covered in three layers of thick cotton bandages each, the servants shifted positions again so that two of them can lift up her hips and lower torso. Her legs are spread out a bit further and the four other servants begin to wrap cotton bandages around her hips, crotch, and waist, making sure to overlap the bandages on the legs by the width of three turns. As they continue to wrap on up over the girl’s belly and chest the servants shifted positions and switch jobs so that her torso is constantly held up to give enough space to pass the bandages underneath. When they reach the amulet around the girl’s neck it is not taken off, just lifted up so that the bandages can be wrapped in place under it. Wrapping bandages over the shoulders and down onto the arms the first layer is completed. Moving back down to the hips a second matching layer is wrapped in place this was followed by a third layer over that one.
The girl was now wrapped in three layers of cotton bandages from her neck down, completely covering everything so that there is no exposed skin to be seen. Laying the girl down on the alter, the servants moved back down to her feet. There they began a new layer of bandages, wrapping both legs at the same time while continuing to keep them separate. The bandaging continues all the way up to her neck then down to the fingertips in one continuous layer of bandages. Completing this fourth layer a fifth and final layer of cotton bandages was wrapped in the same manner but starting from the fingers and working down to the toes. The amulet about her neck remains free of the wrapping, lying on the girl’s cotton bandage covered chest.
The servants all stepped back for just a moment as they gather up shallow pans and brushes. The liquid in the pans has been kept heated over low flames and appears to be yellowish in color. Dipping the brushes in the fluid the servants begin to liberally brush it onto the bandages where it quickly soaks in. They cover the entire front side of the girl then gently roll her over and cover the backside, making sure that there were no spots missed. They repeat the process two more times, doing three passes over both sides in all, then place the still half full pans over the flames again. They allow the resin to begin to dry some while they gather up a fresh batch of cotton bandages, this time only selecting longer and wider rolls.
The servants come back and arrange the rolls of bandages around the girl then lift her feet into the air. Pulling her enshrouded legs together side-by-side they begin to fill in the spaces between her legs with more resin-soaked bundles of cotton cloth until the spaces are filled in even with the tops and bottoms of her legs. Picking up fresh rolls the servants wrap bandages around both feet binding them together. The still sticky resin helps to hold her legs together as the next layer is applied. The same care with wrapping is followed as every layer had been done so that there are no visible bandages from the lower layer to be seen.
The wrapping continues on up all the way to the girl’s armpits, and the medallion is left to lie on her chest this time so that it is now held under the new layer. Picking up her arms the servants are able to bend the elbows and cross her arms at the wrists over top of her chest. More resin-soaked wads of bandages are used to fill in the empty spaces around her arms, and then rolls of bandages are wrapped over top to tightly bind the girl’s arms down. Fresh rolls of bandages are used to extend the wrapping on up her neck, and they begin to wrap her head as well.
One of the servants stuffs the end of a cotton bandage into the girl’s mouth. More of the bandage is stuffed in until her cheeks start to bulge, then resin is poured over the bandage and in her mouth so that is soaks down into the cloth filling her mouth. The rest of the roll is tightly wound around under her chin and up over the top of her head several times forcing her jaw closed. A new roll is wrapped around over her mouth and the back of her head sealing her lips shut and continuing up over her nose. The girl’s eyes are left uncovered as the bandages are wrapped up over her forehead and the top of her head again. The bandaging is concise and carefully applied so that when done the only thing left visible is her eyes. Two more layers are wound around her head, further sealing away her identity. When three layers are finished on her head a pan of warm resin is brought over and brushed over the bandages to soak in and dry. When the resin is done two more layers of bandages are wound around the girl’s head but covering her eyes this time and another application of resin is done again.
While the girl’s head was being enshrouded, the resin that had been applied to the rest of her bandages had continued to dry and harden. When the servants moved down to her feet again to start a new layer, the resin had hardened enough that just lifting her feet raised her entire body. The servants continued their assigned task, wrapping more and more bandages around her now rigid, encased body. Only now they were using the heavier linen bandages to wrap her body.
The wrapping took several hours to complete. By the end, fifteen more layers of bandages were applied bringing it up to twenty layers. Every five layers the servants would stop the bandaging and soak the bandages with more resin, brushing on three applications each time. The heat and dry air in the room helped to quickly dry the resin and harden it. By the time, the twentieth layer was done, the layers had grown so thick that there was absolutely no definition to the form of the person contained within. Even the arms had almost disappeared, leaving only a small rise over the chest to be seen. The neck was simply a straight rise up from the shoulders to the top of the head. Only the feet protruding up could be defined as such, and even they were thick and formless. If the girl was trying to make any sounds or move on the inside, there was no sign of the attempts from the outside. The mummy on the alter was silent and motionless.
A final and last layer of silk bandages, making twenty-one layers in all, was wound over top of the still wet resin from the twentieth layer. This layer of bandages was wrapped with intricate detail, creating a pattern of crisscrossing bandages from the toes to the chin of the new mummy. This final layer was coated in a clear resin that sealed the silken covered form from the air. Ward knew that the girl inside that cocoon of bandages would soon die of suffocation. Just like the other five sacrifices. His servants left the new mummy from the alter and placed it besides the others to allow the layers of resin to finish drying. This would take another three hours for the last mummy.
However, that time would not be spent idle. The servants still had to prepare the six death masks or funeral headdresses for the mummies had to be finalized. Each mask had been cast from the actual faces of the victims. The face of each mask would be painted to show the faces of the victims as they were in life. The res of the mask would be painted in the style of the ancient Pharos. These masks would cover the heads of the mummies, upper shoulders, and down the midpoint of the chest. This task was taken care of by six of the servants.
The other two were busy preparing the inner coffin. Until now the inner coffins had yet to be built. The two servants needed the exact measurements from the finalized mummy forms. The reason is that the mummies had to fit tightly inside the inner coffin. Once built these inner coffins were painted with intricate designs. It would take the eight servants a full day to complete their tasks. Ward knew that they would not take any breaks except for food, water, and to go to the bathroom until the masks and inner coffins were done. The outer coffins had been finished for three weeks now. Because the outer coffins were all the same size and painted the same way. When the inner coffins were placed in the outer coffins, shims would be used to center them in the bottom halves.
As much as he wanted to leave his servants to their tasks. He knew that he couldn’t. Not and stay alive. His lovely wife would kill him the second he stepped foot outside of the room for anything other than food, and drink until the final preparations had been completed. Unlike his servants Ward took several naps over the next twenty-two hours. During that time, he would check on the mummies. He was surprised to find that even a full day after the resin had fully hardened for some of the mummies. The person inside was still alive. He could by the sounds of faint moaning coming from near the bandaged covered heads of their victims.
When he checked on the death masks, he was not surprised to find all six were done. Looking over at the inner coffins he was surprised that three of them actually were actually painted as wedding gowns. It was going to be shame that no one would ever see the craftmanship used to make these six coffins. Not that it matter to Ward and his fellow members of the Children. These three newlywed couples would spent eternity in service to the Demon Price. Seeing that all was finally in readiness Ward stepped over to his servants.
“Ready the sacrifice for their final destination.” He ordered.
The eight men moved over to the first mummy. After placing it on the alter they covered the head with a thick coating of resin. Then with great care they push the death mask into place. The resin did to things. First it provided a lubricant for sliding the mask over the heavy bandages. The second it glued the death mask into place. Ward noticed that the first mummy to receive its death mask was a male. Over the next two hours all six mummies were fitted with their death masks.
He watched as the bottom half of the inner coffins were placed in the bottoms of the outer coffins. He watched a buckets of clear resin was poured into the area between the two coffins. With extreme care the six mummies were lowered into the inner coffin bottoms. The fit was so tight that the servants had to forcibly push them down to seat them. Once in place a final layer of a resin was poured over the top of the mummies before the inner coffin lid was seated in place. The servants then began to fill the outer coffin bottoms with clear resin until the inner coffins were cover under one inch of resin. With all of the clear resin used the lids for the outer coffins were set in place and sealed.
Unlike the first twelve mummies these six would never be removed completely from their sarcophaguses. After two days the process was complete. Each sarcophagus was then placed in a shipping crate. The three sacrificial couples were now ready for delivery. The crates were then taken upstairs to the back of the Manor. Once there they were loaded onto a lorry to be transported to the London Museum. As the lorry rumbled off into the setting sunlight Ward turned to find his wife standing behind him. There was a cold unnatural look in her eyes.
“Your plans for my death have been revealed husband.” The glowing ball of blue-white fire in her right hand drove a chilling fear down Ward’s spine. “I warned you when we first wed to never cross me.”
Before Ward could react the ball of blue-white fire struck his chest. The pain that filled him was so great that his very lungs locked up. Denying him the ability to scream. As he stood there with his muscles frozen in pain Cordelia walked around him. Once she was behind him facing where the lorry had gone, she finally spoke again. She voice was cold as the frozen artic poles.
“You believe that our Demon Lord would ever bow to one such as you?” Cordelia asked harshly. “You fool. It was he who brought me back through hundreds of years to this time and place to carry out His grand designs.” Cordelia held her right hand palm up to look at the tiny spider there. “I have eyes everywhere within the Manor, Ward. There is nothing you can do, think, or say that I will not know about. You had this one last chance to please me. You Failed! Now you shall become a sacrifice for our Demon Prince. Only unlike the slaves that you have already prepared. You shall never know peace. You will wonder the underworld for forever.”
Cordelia snapped her fingers and the pain disappeared dropping Ward to his knees. She stepped around in front of him. Looking down at the defeated man before her Cordelia snarled. “Farewell, husband.”
With that she walked away. As she passed one of the Priest hole servants, she gave one final instruction. “Take your friends and rest for the next three days. In twenty-one days, the newest sacrifices shall arrive. I have their measurements. I want the inner and outer coffins ready before they arrive this time.”
“Yes Priestess. It shall be done. What of this unworthy one?” the servant asked as he pointed at Ward. He clearly want to punish the man for his betrayal.
“Punish him as you see fit. The only thing you cannot do is kill him.” Cordelia ordered. Then let a cruel smile grace her face. “Mummify him alive. Leave his eyes uncovered. Place him in the Temple. He shall serve as a warning to the others.”
Six of the eight men grabbed Ward off the ground and drug his unconscious body through the manor’s first floor. They traced their steps from earlier. Soon they were reentering the Priest Hole deep below the Manor. They would follow the High Priestess orders. Only they would take their time with Ward. They would not rush the mummification of her traitorous husband. They would also use the true forbidden arts for maleun 'uwnadd or the Cursed Undead. Ward Butler the Duke of Edinburgh would spend the rest of eternity as a living warning to those who would dare to cross the High Priestess.
Phantomhive Chelsea Manor, Saturday, 3rd September 1888: 05:45pm
Cecilia entered the manor with a smile on her face. Savanah stood waiting for her just inside the door. “Good evening, my Lady. I do hope that your visit with the Royal Society was able to bear fruit?”
“Yes and no, Savanah.” Cecilia answered as she removed her hat and gloves while Savanah stepped behind her to take her cloak. After waiting for Savanah to take her gloves Cecilia turned to her Maid. “What I learned from those men of science was both encouraging and disheartening at the same time.”
“How so, my Lady?” Savanah asked with real curiosity. Over the centuries Savanah had always found the human need to explain the world around through provable means ludicrous in the extreme. How does one explain magical power.
“It seems that we are not the only ones to have traveled through time. Remember that question I proposed about their being two factions within the Children working for deferent goals. Well, I was wrong. It is not two factions within the Children but two deferent organizations. One side working to change the timeline.” Cecilia sighed. “Then there is me. Working towards keeping the timeline intact.”
“How is this information helpful?” Savanah asked in bewilderment.
“It lets me know that there is another time traveler. One that is either working for or controlling the Children of Eternal Doom. Most likely controlling.” Cecilia answered as she walked towards the stairs. “How did your investigations fare?”
“I was able to acquire information on most of our foes, my Lady. The only one that stands out among them is the Lady Cordelia Butler, wife of Lord Ward Butler. There is absolutely nothing about the woman before four years ago. She is a complete mystery. All anyone knows of her is she married Lord Butler after a courtship of four months following his one year of morning for his first wife.” Savanah explained as she opened the door to Cecilia’s rooms. “Shall I draw you a bath while I fill you in on the rest of them, my Lady?”
“Yes please, Savanah. I feel as if I swam through a gutter for some reason.” Cecilia answered as she reached behind her undoing the first button of her dress. As Cecilia unbuttoned her dress Savanah started the water for her bath. “What were you able to find out about the others?”
“These are quite the collection of individuals, my Lady. I believe it is best to start with the men.” Savanah said as she stepped behind Cecilia to help her undress. “Until two years ago steel magnet and millionaire Sumner Stone was a lowly stock boy working for his Uncle. The young man was able to parlay a lucky streak at the horse track into a small fortune. A fortune that he was then able to use to steal control of his uncle’s steel mill. Sense then he has ruthlessly and totally crushed any opposition to his climb to power.”
“I see. Quite the little backstabbing bastard then.” Cecilia said as she climbed into the hot bath. “At any time was the Lady Cordelia in the young man’s presence?”
“She was in attendance the day he had his lucky streak at the horse races. Is this of note, my Lady?” Savanah asked as she started to wash Cecilia’s hair.
“Possibly. Please continue.” Cecilia asks.
“Yes, my Lady. Up next we have Gerard Read owner of the Northwestern coal mines. Until three years ago he was a small time mine owner. Over the course of the next three years has been able to seize control of all the Shetland Coal mines and fields. The rumors surrounding his acquisition for some of those mines is questionable. Though I believe that most are true. He is quite ruthless and for a human his greed rivals most Demon Princes.” Savanah chuckled.
“Ah yes, another greedy bastard for the masses. What of the last man? What we you able to dig up on him?” Cecilia asked as she relaxed back in the warm water.
“Sir Ruel Magrath owner of Federated arms manufacturer and Knight of the Realm. Apart from his ties to the other member of the Children of Eternal Doom. The man is excruciating honest. He inherited his arms factory five years ago following the death of his father. Until then he served with Distinction in Her Majesty’s forty-third Lancers.” Savanah sighed as finished her report on the one honorable man in the Children of Eternal Doom. “I fear my Lady that Sir Magrath really is an honorable man and may have been duped by the others in joining this folly.”
“I agree Savanah. I believe that he should be our next stop. If only to clear him from our suspect list.” Cecilia sighed then stood up to get out of the bath. “Savanah is Ceil joining us for diner?”
“No, my Lady. I received word that he and my brother have returned to the country estate. He let word that you are to consider the Chelsea manor as your home.” Savanah explained as she dried her Mistress.
“Then I’ll dine her in my rooms tonight Savanah. Unless we are expecting guests that I don’t know about?” Cecilia asked as she pulled on her robe.
“No, my Lady. We are alone for the night. Tomorrow though will be quite busy if we are to visit Sir Magrath and be back in time for your diner with the Police Commissioner.” Savanah answered as she checked a small datebook. “Shall I fetch your diner now or continue with my report?”
“Continue with your report, Savanah. I can wait a little longer for diner.” Cecilia answer before hiding a yawn behind her hand.
“Our last suspect is the Lady Bernice Hand. Three years ago, she inherited her late husband’s shipping firm. Through her connections in the House of Lords and the use of her considerable beauty she was able to build a rather small shipping firm consisting of just three fast steamers in a fleet of over twenty heavy cargo ships in just two years. The reports of her ships smuggling arms are confirmed. Though the actual smuggled arms were done under legal authority for the Ministry of Defense. It seems she was willing to smuggle arms to groups favorable to the Empire in contested territories. She also smuggled arms to groups that were less than favorable to the Empire. It seems that she is an equal opportunity supplier.” Savanah explained as she watched Cecilia walk around her room. “Of all out suspects outside of the Lady Cordelia, Lady Bernice is the most ruthless.”
“Whatever man said that women are the fairer sex is a damned fool. Any real scientist will tell you that the female of the species is always the deadlier.” Cecilia grunted before finally taking a seat in the chair by her tea table. “Okay Savanah we have our work cutout for us. Thank you for that report. Please bring my diner.”
“At once, my Lady.” Savanah said with a curtsy and left the room. Cecilia just looked out her bedroom window not really seeing the setting sun. Her thoughts were a hundred years in the future. She wondered how things would change if she let the Children of Eternal Doom succeed before extracting her revenge. As if summoned by her dark thoughts Savanah returned with a serving cart and her diner. “The future will not change the way you believe my Lady.”
“How so? Why not let these fools stop the First World War?” Cecilia asked sharply.
“Because that war all the factors that will bring it about are fixed points in time. Even if the Children of Eternal Doom can remove a few key factors the First World War will happen. Maybe not to the extent that currently will, but in all likely hood the devastation will be far greater. With far greater impact around the world.” Savanah said as she pushed the cart before her young Mistress. Lifting the cover off the tray Savanah merely smiled. “Eat your diner, my Lady. Growing young ladies need their vitamins.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself, Savanah.” Cecilia mumbled as she took up her knife and fork.
-----tbc-----