Let me reveal to you a part of history never told to humans. A part of history that has faded with time and those who were alive to experience it, have almost completely forgotten. Humans long to find out about the 'beginning' but in truth even the many immortals walking amoung them have no idea. I, myself, only have very vague memories of lights and voices. To put this simply, I am a demon. My beginning was the same as every other demon's in this miserable existance. There was a darkness that incased everything, sheltering us. We gladly lay in that blackness, feeding from its uncertainties, wanting nothing more than to be lazy and filthy. Until the voice came and so it bought with it the light. The light that burnt our skin and pierced our eyes with a hostile blaze. I remember the sensation of burning, as if a fire had been set beneath me. My body was burning in flames I just couldn't see. Shrieks of agony went out across the newly lit surroundings and soon I gained my eyesight. It was the first time I had seen anything other than the black. When I looked up, my species was ridelled with large, ferocious features.
We had wings and claws. Talons and teeth that could rip any of God's creatures to pieces but of course we did not know this. We had never before seen God's creatures. We had been in the dark for far too long. To us, these features were not threatening nor hideous for we were the only species our eyes had ever seen in the light. Soon after the light came the voice. It spoke clearly but firmly. We knew not who it was but by the end we knew it did not like us.
'By these rules you will abide,' It began. 'You are creatures of hell, you belong to Satan, you are his children, not mine. You are foul creatures, who'm have been born for nothing but evil. You feast on the innocent and prey on the weak. Do not pray for you are not welcome. Hell is your domain. Your wings will not reach Heaven. Your voices shall not pierce my ears. Your sullied hands shall not touch my gates. You are at home within the darkness. Seek not redemption nor love for it shall scold you, remain within your darkness, for it is your only friend.' With that the light from above was gone and the only light left was that of the fires ignited around us. This was the beginning of Hell itself.
That was our warning. Born for no other reason but to feed or so was the explanation. We were shown our prey by our master, Lucifier. Our target was humans. It was upon looking at this species that we truely began to feel like hideous creatures. Compared to God's creation we were ugly, twisted sinners. Yet, at the time, we had done nothing wrong. The devil could not wait for the human population to grow, he needed more followers. We were born into the darkness, as blind as a child in its mothers womb and then we were ripped from our comforts. As innocent as children, this phrase funnily enough, could have been used to describe all of Lucifiers children when we were born. We knew nothing of anything, and this was how it was kept.
As it is common in the human world to find love and marriage, it was common in ours to find hatred. From birth we were taught how to despise every living creature. How to look on them with disgust. Those who reached out to humans were shot down, our ugly forms chased away any humans who saw us. We were naive and easy to control. Slowly being brain-washed, sucked dry of any feelings. We did nothing wrong, we were simply born to keep the balance. Good can not survive without evil and evil can not survive without good. There must be sacrifices on both sides. Slowly as we grew older with the milleniums passing, we grew bitter. What innocence we had faded as we began to be nothing but feeders. A starving parasite getting greedier.
As humans developed so did we, our days of being open about our exsistence were done. Our night antics of hauntings and child-napping turned into mere legends as we lay in wait for superior prey. The demon aristocracy took hold, demons being judged on cruelty and number of kills. Soon any human would not do. Soon the feast became a game we enjoyed to play. An immortal must spend their days doing something, for want of not wasting away. Meat eating demons became lower level, others viewing their methods as cruel but not cruel enough, and so came the soul eaters. What crueler fate than to never see one's dearly departed again. To never enter Heaven's glorious gates. To have the very essence of yourself be ripped into fine pieces and devoured. It was our own revenge. We would never see Heaven and neither would the humans we controled.
I became a higher level demon with ease, my malicious behaviour earning me merit after merit with my so called father. I had once had a curiousity about me, a certain emotional spark that wandered far and wide. I once had personal dreams, one of which was to meet a human and befriend them. We were all idealistic back when we were young but those days ended quickly. My dreams were trampled, whatever kindness I had beaten from me and all that was left was a shell. A broken, empty version of myself. The real me had receeded back, hiding deep within me. I let something else take over. A version of me that hated everything and valued nothing. I was, in the eyes of my dark father, one of his favourite sons. My vermilion eyes showing nothing but emptyness.
As was such the popular game at the time, I picked only the most blackened of souls. I would make the customary deal of lengthened life and my service until death in exchange for one soul. I was never turned down. Not once. It was all too easy. I ofcourse could do anything a human asked of me and often with very little effort. My services cost me nothing but I gained so much. To torture a human has always been fun to me. To poke fun at what causes them grief and then watch them try and demean me, watching their eyes falter as they realise that even though I lay dormant on behalf of the contract, I was still the demon that would end them. It was a sweet process, watching them suffer, watching their dreams shatter like mine did.
I played this game relentlessly for decades, growing eventually bored until a certain case came around. I heard a cry for help, a small voice, obviously a child. Yet so much feeling lay pent up inside it. I almost swore that I recognised it from somewhere. Perhaps in a dream once, but I had not dreamt in a long time. I followed it, that sweet yet dying scream being carried by the wind. I discovered a child locked in a cage, starring death in the face. At first I felt like laughing and came very close to it until a pang deep down inside my own stomach surpressed it. I inquired to the child as to what it wanted and surprisingly, for a boy that age and in that situation, I could already hear the booming voice of a begrudged survivor. Someone so determined not to die, not to be alone, that I couldn't help but stop and take a real look at him.
Battered and bruised, blood splashed across his face were children before him had met their end with a rusted blade. Those eyes that looked so cherub like, as if they belonged on the face of an angel, reflected nothing but a want. A desire to live, to fight another day. Half of me smiled, enjoying the view of a delicious new victim but secretly another half understood. The look in the boys eyes was dead, like his old self. Perhaps a happier, more realistic version of himself had died along with his innocence. His body was a shell like mine, nothing but anger and hatred could remain. Ofcourse I'd never admit it, no demon will. We seperate ourselves from humans as much as we can. Trying to look better, only in the hopes that it will cover our jealousy.
A contract was made and blood was spilt. That was a very long time ago now it seems. That innocent boy trapped in a cage is now the head of the Phantomhive family and I am his faithful butler. It sounds strange to me, to admit this now, but this boy is more like me than I'd ever like to openly admit. I did nothing wrong but I was forsaken by God. I had dreams that were shattered. I had pushed my real self back as far as I could push him, and left my body a shell for evil. He had done the same. The real Ciel Phantomhive. The one that loved his parents and his fiancee, would probably laugh at all the jokes people told him. Would probably enjoy helping others. Would never lie nor laugh at anothers misfortune, but we are all victims of God's great plan to retain balance. Each side must make a sacrafice.
Years past and he grew ever colder, the hands of time fiercely ticking against him. I was still cruel to some extent, uncaring and distance. Just as any demon would be, but from the start I favoured him above all else in my life. Demon's have very few reasons to live other than food, and to many its a pitiable exsistance but Ciel made my life interesting. A strange boy, obviously wanting his father and mother to return but knowing, full-heartedly that their charred bodies would never rise from their graves. I can not be a father. I do not know how. My own supposed father is a vicious creature, even more foul than myself. A humans idea of a father is kind and caring, with a warm atmosphere of love. My father was a disgusting thing, ripping his childrens limbs from them as punishment for disappointing him. I would be a pathetic father and in some strange way, I regretted that. Sometimes I would even find myself un-nessicarily comforting Ciel or trying to be kind without realising. It amazed me but it seemed as though my original dream had not been shattered.
Although perhaps we never exchanged the exact words, I knew I favoured him more than anyone before him. I never lie, for I have no reason to. Unlike humans. I believe this is a quality Ciel always enjoyed. Even though he could be impatient, I did enjoy his determination and if anything his good spirit. Ciel's soul was always special. He did terrible things in his work but I never felt like it blackened his soul. It was more like he was hurting his pride or crushing his own dreams. I began to enjoy life more than I had previously, finding the funny side of things no longer seemed so hard. Life suddenly became much more lively. Despite seeing my true form, Ciel never showed unease which was a first with my masters. It made me feel, in a sense, less hideous of a creature and happier as, should I dare say it, a 'person'. I feel like I was never a 'bad' person to begin with, I was just another sacrafice. Like Ciel.
Now, in slight ways I feel my old self coming through. I don't think it's a good thing. Should I return to Hell a less powerful demon I am bound to be dis-favoured by my dark father, I am bound to be killed off. It is a common belief that the power of love is stronger than the power of hate, but what if you have only known love for a mere decade, when you have lived a life as old as the moutains themselves? I feel I am looking in a mirror with Ciel. I treat him somewhat more kindly than I treated my other masters. I only point out his faults to teach him lessons. Perhaps if he will just admit his flaws, his mistakes he can do something I never managed to do. I can not seek redemption or so the voice told me in the beginning, but maybe God will forgive him and through Ciel I will able to feel Heaven. Even if it is just for a moment. This side of me will disappear the moment I stop being Sebastian Michaelis. In a way I wish I could keep this name forever, keep this life I have now forever. I finally feel as if, in small ways, the real me is fighting for freedom and, for the first time in a very long time, he's winning.