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You opened your eyes to darkness, a thick and solitary darkness that engulfed your whole being. Where were you? Were your eyes even truly open? You staggered out of the warm bed. It was so inviting, the sheets called to you to stay in them to cuddle with your pillow. However, you shook your head swaying deftly out of the stupor which deep sleep tends to bring.

You then proceeded to swing your feet over the side of the bed and touch your toes to the floor, surprisingly you were wearing socks that blocked the cold marble from jolting through your body. You languidly stood up and stretched your back, arching until you heard pops crack throughout your spine and neck. You swept your hair over your left shoulder and reached for the glass of water that lay on the nightstand. There was condensation leaking into a ring onto the wooden object.

“Its’ been here a while,” You mumbled gulping the liquid down your parched and dry throat. You smacked your lips and then accidently dropped the glass on the ground. You jumped and squeaked quietly when the shatter caused glass shards to spread throughout the floor. The sound was somewhat similar to rain, just more frightening, louder, and ghastlier.

At that precise moment, solitary light filtered in through the adjacent window, pouring, carrying, sweeping, the floor like a silent ghost. Suddenly the ground sparkled in an array of crystal pieces, making you blink. Who knew shattered glass could be so brilliantly stunning?

You leaned down to take a closer look and picked a piece up and cutting your finger in the process. Angrily, you threw the piece across the room and licked the blood trickling down your wrist and making a path to the ground. You used your foot to clear a path for you to walk through to the door of the room.

You had no path, no idea, and no inclination of where your feet were taking you. They just seemed to walk on their own, reassuring you that you were to be fine. A hallway ended and you made your way through another one.

’You must be silent….’ an echoing voice whispered.

“What?” You asked back, dragging your feet so they made no sound.

’Just trust me…’ The voice said again, and you realized it was not real. Your voice had not echoed, but this one did. The voice carried a sort of eerie pitch that no human could be capable of making.

“Okay…” You whispered to the voice within your head. You continued your way through the endless halls, why did Alois have so many? They were frightening and you suddenly wondered if you had been in this hallway prior already.

“Where am I?” You asked to no one in particular. Thank God there were picture windows covering the walls, allowing light to flow in, otherwise you would have tripped and fallen down the parallel staircase. You took off your socks, deciding they were causing you to be more clumsy than necessary. You threw them behind you in hopes to trip whoever may turn that corner.

For whatever reason you felt a spitting hate for this place. A sort of hate that burned into solid loathe, a pained feel of betrayal that clouded all other thoughts. In an angry aphiphomy of this feeling, you bashed your hand into a wall. Instead of your hand meeting with wood, though, it passed right through into a room.

The door was open.

The door was open!

In an almost giddy way, you laid your hand against one of the walls inside and tried to feel your way within. If you thought it was dark before, you were basically blind now. Instead of a black that confused your eyes with being closed, it was a black that stole your breath.

The kind you could not see an inch in front of you. A darkness so pure that you expected to suddenly be met with a white, veined, hand that would rip your soul away from your chest cavity. A ghastly color of black that no person could capture with ink, or film, or cloth, the kind that put the night sky to shame. You took a shaky breath, knowing it could very well be your last.

You noticed it was not a room but a staircase that led down, down into the bowels of the mansion. Regardless, you followed the path and held the railing that helped stop you from collapsing and killing yourself down the stairs multiple times. You breathed again; the air was becoming a bit damp now.

Was it damp at the center of the earth?

“Of course not,” You whispered, “According to lessons it’s warmer in the earth. Its colder here, I’m still above the center.”

You had to keep talking your way through this darkness otherwise; you would never finish your venture.

“What am I even venturing for?” You asked in a speaking voice, you rationalized no one was here to hear you anyways. Besides, the voice that told you to quiet yourself was gone now. That guide would have yelled in your head to shut up with the sort of noise the creaking steps made.

“These sure are steep…,”You acknowledged as you finally stepped onto flat ground. The cracked cement was cold and bumpy beneath your toes and you curled them in. It was a failed attempt at keeping some warmth, but was worth a try.

You stumbled around, clumsily trying to make your way towards any sources of light. You slammed into a table, the loud noise reverberating throughout the room. An object fell off the thing and you scavenged around to find it. Perhaps it was a source of light? Just as your fingers brushed the top of what felt to be an oil burner, a bright piercing light blinded you into seeing white.

You staggered back and fell on your arse, scraping the walls to try to stand. When you reopened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a huge chandelier, hanging and swaying above you. The light came from over a hundred burning candles.

The next thing you noticed was a mirror two inches from your face. Behind you was another one. To your left there were four. To your right were five. The more you looked the more mirrors you faced. As you saw hundreds of yourself, holding an anxious, ghastly look upon the features, you screamed gutturally.

You ran into one of the mirrors and turned trying to find your way out. A cat, one with a brushy tail, slithered on by and you groaned in surprised fear. “Where are you from?” You asked whisperedly. “Where am I from?”

You continued to run until tired and suddenly ended up in a completely different room. Instead of mirrors, there were cabinets. All of them were adorned with various teas. The ceiling had heightened acknowledging you were utterly beneath the mansions true floors. You sighed in defeat and leaned against a wooden, dusty cabinet.

The high ceiling made you feel disoriented. The beams crisscrossing

You closed your now tired eyes, resting in the complete solitude of the place. It smelt of rust, wine, tea, and must. An overwhelming yet warm odor that infiltrated the sense and caused your headache to lighten up. Your mouth became thick like cotton, your eyes snapped open, and suddenly…

There was yet another voice.

“___?” It wavered from seemingly far away.

“Yes?” You wondered aloud to the familiar voice.

“Come here…” The voice was shaky, almost afraid of itself.

You took a step in the right direction, heading through several shelves, “Where are you?”

You noticed your voice was shaking. Your hands were quivering, your face hot and suddenly…wet? Where had the moisture come from? Why was your heart beating so fast it was going to run out of your chest?

“Right here, ___, I’m right here,” the voice called weakly, each word strained.

“But where?” You asked softly, stepping around the shelves of tea. “Who are you?”

“___,” is all it said, so soft you could barely hear it. You rationalized the voice was male, but one of younger stature. You stumbled your way, curiosity being your guide. The air that was once comfortingly warm and stagnant was now a choking thickness that overwhelmed your being. The cement under your bare feet (when had they become bare?) was wet, a soaking liquid that coated the soles of your feet. You tracked a path, a pattern into the farther part of the area.

Left, right, left, right…left? Right? Everything was becoming more difficult as you became knowingly closer to this voice. The raspy chill it sent down your back was familiar. Why did a sudden image of copper hair, rusted to red perfection come to mind?

You finally came upon a form; a shivering, shaking form that lay against the juxtapose wall. His arm (the shaggy hair led to the belief of a male) was resting against his waist. He was seemingly hurt; his hand was darker than the other was. Curious, you walked closer, pretending you could not be seen. Suddenly though the head snapped upwards and looked you in the eye. His hand pressed against his cheek to a leave a bloody handprint, one that almost matched the copper of his hair.

You screamed. A loud, putrid, exasperated scream that raked chills down the boy and any other inhabitants back. You screamed with all the oxygen, all the pain and fear, all the voices within your head were combined to form such a guttural, retching sound. You collapsed to the floor in a heap of sobs.

It was your brother. It was Leon, your little brother that had helped you so many times. What was he doing here? Why was he bleeding? How did Alois Trancy, the boy with so many secrets, have a hold of him? In a shaky attempt to retrieve balance, you stood and wobbled over to the hunched form.

“Leon…Leon?”

“…___?”

“….L….L….Leon…”

“___, it’s been quite some time-“ He hacked some blood onto the floor, “Time, eh?”

You ran forward in frenzy, “This is no time for jokes!” You hollered whilst laying him on his back. You ripped off a piece of your clothing, yanking the stitches apart, and wrapped it about his wound. The blood seeped through immediately and you let the water pooling in your eyes spill. This was not how life was supposed to be. This was not supposed to happen!

Your heart sank as Leon attempted to make another joke; you knew he loved to laugh. In a last effort, you grabbed the slowly paling boy’s shoulders and asked, “Why are you here?”

Leon replied stiffly, “Why are you here?”

“But that does not matter, why are you here!?”

The light was slowly dimming from Leon’s eyes. His face was slackening, his expression dwindling, his eyes less bright. You leaned forward and slapped his face, “Leon! Answer me, I am older than you!” The boy did not…could not answer. He chucked up more blood, this round blackened from statement and overexposure to oxygen.

You ran your fingers over his tan shirt and through the goopy blood. You held it up; examining it to ensure it was real. And oh how real the crimson was. Red had always been one of your favorite colors but you had never expected it to harm you in this way. How could red betray you? How could Leon betray you? How could you betray Leon? And father? And Ciel?

How could the world allow all of this to happen?

“Leon, you cannot die! Think of father, think of how disappointed mother would be…”

Leon chuckled, rasping with a gurgling from the excess of pooling blood, “Making me feel ashamed in my blissful, last moments of life? Just like you ___.”

Leon’s brown-green eyes were dimming now with such a quick accuracy he had only a minute to live. You watched the life pour from his eyes. His soul dissipated, disintegrated, and burn. He was gone, Leon, once a happy and striving boy, dead and pale on the floor.

It was a nostalgic reminder to years prior when you were a child. You remembered the way your mother looked against the floor all those years ago. Now, you had the chance to witness it all again. Wasn’t this all a bit too much?

In a last attempt to awaken your brother, you slapped him once more. The cracking of skin on skin contact burning and ringing in your ears, engraving into your soul. You leaned your head back to stare at the ceiling and cried in pain and horror.

“Someone, anyone, save me!” You cried collapsing on the bloody and dead form. Your sobs were choking, and in despair, you gave into unconsciousness and allowed yourself to soak the remaining warmth radiating from Leon’s body. Perhaps a piece of his soul could stay with you always?

As you lay unconscious on the floor, a demon appeared from behind. He sneaked out from the shadows and lifted you up by your hair.

“How pathetic, human beings can feel such an intensity of emotions they hallucinate?” He looked at Leon, noticing how he had died hours prior to your meeting with him. You had imagined the whole scenario. He was already dead, hours and hours and hours ago.

“Now I have this bloody mess to clean, you cut him open in such an attempt.” He dropped you to the ground and picked up Leon, careful to avoid bloodstains. “It truly is a pity though; you looked so much like Luka. That is why his highness cannot see you like this, you were his Luka and once again Luka is no more…”

The demon seemed to chat with himself as he cleaned the area of such nostalgic sadness. Then in a sweep of his arm, he picked you up and carried you upstairs to clean and properly attire you for later. For some reason, he believed later had a whole more to bring than this sad scene.

So please forgive me now
For whatever I’ll do
My memory is not eternal
And I will forget you.