Kuroshitsuji The End

**WRITER'S NOTE**

It is I, and I arose from the dead with a vengeance and a taste for a new beginning..

So, since someone decided to report me and delete my previous account, I was forced to make a new one. Leaving all my wrath and annoyance about this behind, because basically there is nothing I can do about it anymore, here we are with a new account and a new story.

It took some time for me to summon the courage to post this. I am highly insecure about it and do wish you would all let me know your feelings about it. It'll be a long one and I am sure most of you will not be happy with me, but it was something that had to be done to keep on developing my skills.

I hope our future collaboration will be as fruitful as our last one.

(This title is a working one, because I still have no idea what it should be called. I will warn you in time should it change over the course off it)

Yours truly,

O.

* * *

><p>The deserted asphalt road that cut through the featureless landscape was completely covered in a layer of ground fog. Alois slowed down his ancient dark blue Datsun until it came to a stop in the ditch beside the road. He rubbed his tired eyes and exhaled a long sigh. Through the open window he heard the calming babbling of the Mississippi river and the calls of birds, and besides the music that echoed from his radio there was nothing but absolute silence.<p>

Alois tossed his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. Aside from the occasional gas stop he had been driving non-stop from Atlanta. The hollow sound of a dog barking up the road made him open his eyes and reach for the cup of coffee in the temporary home made holder. It had gone cold hours ago, but the four packages of sugar he had used to give the tasteless mud-like fluid some flavor atleast gave him an illusion of energy. Finishing his drink, he fumbled up the carton cup and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed on the backseat floor and rolled around the other disregarded trash for a few seconds.

Alois bend over his steering wheel and stared through his windshield. The sun had slowly began to rise, and like a mirage, blurred outlines of a massive complex broke the plain at the orange horizon. An involuntary grin quirked up the corners of his mouth up and briefly checking his rear view mirror, he steered his car back onto the road.

After about a mile or so, the entrance of the Louisiana penitentiary arose from the tall grass, ironically resembling the sign of a summer camp or religious facility more than anything. One of the two guards that were crammed in the small control picket came out and halted the unauthorized car. Alois turned down the radio and snatched up his backpack from the floor.

An arm reached in, demanding to see his papers. Alois fumbled nervously with his wallet and dropped his ID card. Cursing inwardly, he hastily felt around the floor at his feet and retrieved it from under the brake. He smiled sheepish at the guard and handed his authorization papers, press and ID card. The guard's pitch black eyes scanned the information over the rim of his pilot sunglasses before they slid Alois's way and squinted.

"I'll go and clear your visitation. Stay right were you are." The guard turned on his heels and leisurely sauntered back to the booth. Alois sucked in a breath of air and stretched his stiff arms behind his head. The guard came back, handed him his papers and a visitors badge. "Visitors parking is up ahead. Now you remain seated in your vehicle until a guard arrives to escort you to the front desk. Let him through Barry," the guard called, making a short hand gesture in the air while walking off.

Now entering the prison grounds, Alois rolled up the window as quickly as he could and shifted the gear to drive. The barrier creaked as it slowly rose in the air, granting access to Louisiana's most notorious jail.

The parking was deserted shy for a few maintenance pickup trucks. Alois turned his car into the only free spot amongst them and cut off the engine. Despite being so tired, his subconsciousness was alert and aware of his surroundings. His eyes scanned the bushes that bordered the lot, and the idea of an inmate jumping out of them and yanking him out of his car gave Alois goosebumps. He quickly locked his doors.

The rising sun shed its light over the complex, clearing the fog within seconds and gradually heating up the metal of his car. Alois looked left and right before cracking his window open just far enough to let some fresh air blow in. He felt stupid; these prison grounds were much more safe than his own neighborhood back home in Brooklyn and now he was starting to feel sorry for pestering his boss to give him this interview.

"Get yourself together," Alois told himself firmly and he reached for his bag. He retrieved the notes he had taken on the inmate he was about the interview and the police report on the crime he had committed. A crime that had shocked America, and due to its vile nature and the high profile victim, had been juice for one horrid headline after another for weeks on end.

Alois flipped through the police report and certain parts always kept drawing his attention. The perpetrator had called the police and reported the crime on his own accord. When the forces arrived, he was still present at the scene, just staring at the dead body of his victim. He had never shown remorse, nor had he bothered to advocate on his own behalf. He had confessed to be guilty even before his lawyer could advice him otherwise.

It had been three years since he had committed this murder, and four days prior to his lethal injection, he had asked to see a reporter. The reporters who were usually assigned to high profile cases were all too busy with other articles or hardly interested, so Alois had jumped to this chance. His boss had seen no other option than to assign the job to Alois, but had assured him that if he screwed up, Alois would be screwed himself.

Lost in thought and reading, Alois's guard had weakened, and he let out an involuntarily shriek at the quick ruffling of fingers against his window. Clasping a hand over his heart, Alois turned to look to his right. A black haired male bend down, his bright green eyes studied the disheveled reporter from behind black rimmed glasses. He made a rolling hand gesture, signaling for Alois to roll down the window.

"I assume you are Mister Trancy. I am sorry if I have startled you." A smooth accentless voice said and a hand reached through the open window. Alois shook it dutifully. "I am William T. Spears, Mister Phantomhive's lawyer."

"Of course," Alois smiled and gathered his scattered papers and stuffed them back into his bag. He yanked at the doorhandle and kept yanking until William pointed out that his car was locked. Alois quickly unlocked it and stepped out with a red blush of shame splattered across his pale cheeks.

"Your first high profile article?" William asked in his stoic voice. It seemed to be more of a statement rather than an actual question. This man was sure not to show Alois any type of leniency and in the ten seconds he had know him, Alois had already managed to make a bad first impression on the person who could easily pull back his approval for the entire interview.

"It is, Sir," Alois admitted with a broad smile, "but my boss would not have send me if he did not have the utmost faith in me. I can assure you I will execute this as well as any of my senior colleagues would." Alois lied through his teeth; his boss had tried his best to send one of his more skilled reporters. Anybody but the perky reporter fresh out of college would have done. Knowing his rights, Alois knew was by law not enforced to inform the lawyer about any of this.

William raised an eyebrow at him. "Very well, follow me please." He turned on his heels and started to walk up to the visitors bus that was waiting up the road. "Word of advice though, Mister Trancy." William turned and pinched his lips between his thumb and index finger for a moment. "You might not want to use the word execute too often around Mister Phantomhive," he told Alois with a slick smirk before turning back around and walking on with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his Armani pants. Alois was nailed to the ground for a second and had to breathe in deep before he could take another step towards the complex rather than turning around and driving back up to New York with his tail between his legs.

* * *

><p>Seated between the window and William, Alois let his eyes take in the prison as the bus drove to the front desk. Due to his research, he was aware of the large square footage of this particular prison, but seeing it up close, he never could have fathomed how vast it actually was in reality.<p>

"You will have a prison escort with you at all times. This is not a place one should wander alone." William's voice cut through Alois's mesmerizing and he turned his head to the lawyer next to him to nod without a word.

The bus came to a stop at the concrete building that housed the front desk. William stepped out first, Alois followed close behind. The Southern heat hit him like a brick wall and after the short walk to the entrance, Alois already had sweat pouring down his temples. William still looked strangely refreshed, not breaking a sweat even when the temperature was close to hitting eight-five degrees at six in the morning.

William walked up to a blonde guard with a small portion of a snake tattoo peeking above the collar of his short sleeved uniform shirt. William shook the guard's hand and slapped him on the back, causing the frail torso of the blonde to jerk forward.

"This is correctional officer Snake. He is one of the few highly trained officials that work death row. He will be your escort during the time you spend here. Like I mentioned before, you are never to leave his side," William spoke in an eerie foreboding tone of voice.

Alois eyeballed the guard with suspicion and estimated he could not possibly weigh more than a hundred pounds, which made William's assurance invalid. The slim figure of the guard would effortlessly be crushed if there would be an actual prison outbreak, Alois was sure of it. Nonetheless, he reached out right hand. "It is very nice to meet you officer Snake."

The young officer stared at the appendage as if it was highly toxic, turned around on his heels and ushered them to follow him inside. Alois's friendly gesture was left hanging in the air, and he quickly dropped his hand, pretending it had never happened. A short jerk of William's head gave Alois the sign that he had to follow him.

Inside, Alois was greatly overwhelmed by the events that played out in front of him. A bus with recently convicted men had arrived shortly before he had and they were all sitting in the main hall, chained together at their wrists by a thick chain and awaiting to be checked and assigned to their cell block. William passed them without blinking an eye, quietly enforcing respect from the convicts with his authoritative composure. Alois straightened his back and tried to enforce that same kind of respect; he failed horribly and his shoulders dropped a little more with each catcall and every rancid line laced with obvious sexual innuendo that was thrown his way. His fingers gripped at the handle of his backpack and he dipped his head to hide his shame.

"Do keep up Mister Trancy," William called over his shoulder. "We do not want to keep the good people at the community relations department waiting."

Alois instantly quickened his step and scurried after William like a lost child.

They were installed in a bright waiting room with a marble floor and pictures of the prison's changes that dated back to the early eighteen-hundreds. Neither William or officer Snake bothered to make small talk, so Alois put all his attention to the black and white photos of the complex hanging from the wall opposite him. After mere minutes that seemed to have lasted a century each, a brunette secretary came to deliver the word that Mister Agares, the head of the department, was ready to see them.

The office was tastefully decorated with colonial furniture and a thick blue rug. Agares sat in a leather chair, talking on the landline in a heavy Texan accent. His head turned up when the door opened, and he gestured they could come in. Alois was appointed a seat by William and he sat down without question.

"Now that is taking off like a herd of turtles isn't it?" Agares aggressively slammed his hand down at his desk which made Alois jump in his seat. "I have little patience with incompetent idiots, and that sure means I deem you incompetent," he swore and hung up without as much as a goodbye.

Alois swallowed when the cool gaze of Agares turned his way. Within seconds, the frown melted away like snow and Agares showed a wide toothy smile that unnerved Alois to the core.

"I assume you're the reporter from up state. New York I seem to remember." Agares tapped his fore finger against his chin for a second, then got up and turned his back on the company to look out his window. "The weather has cleared up nicely. This morning is was so foggy birds were walking. It's going to be another darned hot day," he murmured to himself and retrieved a handkerchief to wipe some sweat from his forehead before turning back to his guests. "So," he rounded his desk and sat on the edge off it with his arms folded. "You're here to interview our doctor?"

"Yes Sir," Alois went through his bag to retrieve his press card and showed it with trembling hand. "I'm Alois Trancy for The New York Times."

"I don't need to see that boy," Agares made a dismissive hand gesture, "welcome to our micro nation," he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket, "would you like a sourball?" In his hand lay a bright creased candy wrapper. Alois mashed his brows together at treat. He did not care for sweets, but under the gaze of three officials he felt too uncomfortable to deny. He took it and thanked him with a small smile.

"Aren't you as calm as a june bug," Agares's tone was almost endearing. "Your first high profile case?"

Alois's eyes widened in shock at the exact same words he had heard not over an hour ago. He began to wonder if these people were able to smell fresh meat and involuntarily let his mind drift to the vampire series he had started watching on HBO. Maybe Charlaine Harris's books were not entirely fictional after all. Agares clapping his hands together made Alois jump in his seat once more. It made the head of the department bellow with hearty laughter.

"Jumpy as spit on a hot skillet. We're going to have a field trip with you boy. Now are we off then? No time to waste on Mister Phantomhive's account. This way."

* * *

><p>They left the brightness off the office and walked down the same hallway that was first filled with convicts. It was clear and quiet now, much to Alois's relief. They made the short walk to one of the massive buildings up the road and Alois had to wipe the sweat from his forehead when they entered the cool entrance hall.<p>

"Safety is our main concern here; show your ID's again please," Agares motioned to the one-manned booth. "When it comes to visitation, I also have three rules all visitors must abide to while visiting one of the inmates. One," Agares raised a finger, "one must never give away personal information to a convict. Two," he raised a second finger, "do not, under any circumstances, show any sign of fear. So try not to look as nervous as a whore in church would you Mister Trancy? They can smell it on you. Three, which must be the most important for a pretty boy such as yourself," he paused to look over his shoulder and quickly skimmed Alois with a wide grin before moving on, "never turn your back and bend over. Over here."

Alois had felt a cold shiver run down his spine at the words of Agares and he formed his hands into fists alongside his body, trying to ignore the undisputed fact that he was just called a pretty boy. Claude would most certainly fire him if he got into a brawl with Agares, but this option seemed less shameful than letting some Texan moron call him something as embarrassing as pretty boy. Leaning on his own professionalism, he told himself to calm down and just set his foot in front of the other; he was almost there.

"Average stay on the row is nine years; some get commuted, but most get put to death; Carl." Agares addressed an officer who buzzed them through and finally halted all of them at a small. "Good morning Joker, this is our guest from upstate."

The ginger-haired officer named Joker ran his eyes over Alois with a polite smile. "May I check you bag please?"

"Of course." Alois eased down his back pack from his shoulder onto the desk and zipped it open. Joker clicked on a flash light and meticulously inspected every inch of the bag.

"We have a policy against cellphones, so if you would not mind leaving it here with our fine officer," Agares nodded at Joker. "You won't be needing it on you during the interview anyway. Are you packing Mister Trancy?"

"Excuse me?" Alois blinked clueless at Agares.

"Are you packing? Guns, revolvers," Agares used his hand to briefly depict a gun.

"Packing? Guns? No of course not!" Alois laughed awkwardly. "I've never even held one, let alone own one. What would I do with a gun?" He rambled on like a non-stop chatterbox.

Both Agares and William raised an eyebrow at him. Officer Snake's gaze was as impartial as it had been from the second he had hardly laid eyes on the upstate reporter. He obviously deemed Alois incapable of any wrongdoing. Agares instructed them to follow him once more.

"The visitation area is completely secure, we only ask you not to touch the glass, if you would please on through the metal detector." Alois did as told and thanked Joker when the officer handed him back his bag. "Right on through here; we're almost there."

They crossed a minor court yard with floral beds, trees and wooden benches spread randomly around the naturals stone pavement. For one split second Alois could not believe he was on the inside of the Alcatraz of Louisiana. That was until a couple of inmates whistled low at his passing. He dipped his head like he had done before, embarrassed beyond recognition.

"Here we are." Agares opened the door to a bright, airconditioned room. It vaguely smelled of spic and span and mildew. William, who had gone ahead without Alois noticing, was sitting at one of the windows in the middle of the room. He stood, leaned into it and said something intelligible. Alois's torso jerked when Agares slapped a hand at his back. "Everything you say can be overheard, and any discussion on criminal activity at your part is admissible. Good luck."

Alois heard Agares's low whisper and the cool shove in the small of his back made him stumbled forward. Up ahead William's eyes narrowed at him behind his glasses. Alois swallowed, and for the umpteenth time this morning he doubted his abilities as a reporter and as a person. He took cautious steps towards the lawyer, and only turned to look at the window that was the single thing standing between him and a convicted criminal when he was right in front of it. He could barely suppress a surprised gasp.

"Mister Trancy," William pulled out the chair. "Why don't you sit down and make yourself comfortable."

Alois's curiosity was finally satisfied and he could not take his eyes of the man behind the glass. He could barely be much older than himself, with bright blue eyes and a warm smile. Prison had taken its toll on his looks, but despite his pale complexion due to a lack of sunlight, the thick sacks under his eyes and the thin worry lines above his eyebrows, Alois could tell that he had been a very handsome man when he was still on the outside. Alois sank down on the wooden chair and cleared his throat. "My name is Alois Trancy, and I am with the New York Times."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alois," he said most earnest in a perfect Oxford accent. "My name is Ciel Phantomhive. Thank you for coming in at such a short notice." Ciel's eyes slowly traveled up and looked at a point behind Alois. "You can leave now William. Mister Trancy and I will be just fine."

Alois felt the lawyer's gaze burn a hole in the back of his head, and when he turned to look, he met William's cool eyes.

"Are you certain?" William asked Ciel without taking his eyes of Alois.

"I am, William," the voice confirmed from behind the glass. "I am confident we can manage perfectly on our own."

With much reluctance and hesitation William gave in and left, taking slow steps to the exit and ready to turn back at any peep he might hear. For a moment he stood there at the double doors, his gaze trying to meet Ciel's from way across the room. Ciel could not help a smile and leaned forward in his seat and told Alois that he should not pay too much attention to the lawyer's hostile attitude. "Even though he behaves like he has a broomstick wiggled up his rear end, he means well. He has put all his time, effort and resources into my case, and I sometimes feel he has a harder time accepting the verdict than I do," he whispered.

A stern voice echoed through the speakers overhead, calling Ciel to order. "Back away from the window, Phantomhive."

Ciel made a short apologizing hand gesture in the air, and cast one more meaningful look across the room before sitting back. Alois heard the exit doors slam and realized that they were finally left alone, for as far as that curtesy was extended in prison. Alois smiled sheepish and retrieved a notebook and pen from his bag. Ciel's eyes followed his moves, patiently allowing him his time to get ready. "This is my first inmate interview," Alois admitted, and instantly regretted announcing his incompetence right at the start.

"That is alright." Ciel folded his hands on top of each other and showed another smile. "I am sure your boss must have the utmost faith in you for sending you here."

_Or the utmost lack in better resources _Alois thought to himself, but had the mind not speak these words out loud while he clicked his ballpoint and opened his notebook.

"So," Alois continued to click his ballpoint repeatedly before he put it to a fresh page in his notebook, "I guess it would be best for you to tell me why I am here."

"You guess?" Ciel cocked his head a little to the right and squinted at him, "this is not only your first inmate interview. This is your first interview, period. Is it not?"

Alois swallowed audibly and fumbled with the edge of his notebook. He was not sure how to respond without coming off like either a complete amateur. He finally decided to just nod and be honest about it. "Is it that obvious?"

Ciel inhaled deep and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well then this must be an excellent learning opportunity," he concluded, and chuckled lightly. There was no trace of sarcasm in his tone of voice, and he seemed earnest about his words.

"You are not offended?" Alois's eyes widened, surprise audible in his voice.

Ciel shook his head. "Of course not. Why would I be offended? Besides, there is no point for me to worry about anything or get mad about things that are so trivial as this," he said with a short shrug of the shoulders, seemingly impartial about the entire ordeal. The answer, however, made Alois shiver. He felt cold inside realizing that he would be the last outside contact Ciel would have in the final days before his lethal injection. He then tried to remind himself why Ciel was here and the details of the cold blooded murder gave Alois the much needed peace of mind and clarity to do what he came here to do.

"So," Ciel smiled aloof, "how does this work?"

Alois tossed his blonde bangs and shuffled in his seat. Even in the airconditioned room he felt drops of sweat forming on his back, right between his shoulders. It bothered him immensely. "I'd like to start with the reason why I am here."

Ciel stared at his folded hands without a word. He then spread them across the cool metal table and inhaled deep. "You think I am a monster, don't you?"

Alois pressed his lips together. "What I think or how I feel about you is not relevant. I am here to do a job, and regardless of your background, crimes or sins, I intend to fulfill it to the best of my abilities."

Ciel winched at the words, and then he smiled the saddest smile Alois would ever see in his entire life. It would haunt him to the end of his days. "William believes in my innocence, "Ciel said, "he always did and he never stopped, not even when they read the verdict in court. He is one hell of a lawyer. My parents did not believe in him, he's young and he does not have a lot of experience in cases like these, but I knew he believed in me, that was all I needed."

Alois lifted his pen off his paper. He wasn't sure if this was something he was supposed to write down. Ciel's eyes had not left his hands the entire time he had been talking, but now he looked up and straight into Alois's eyes. "I want people to hear my story. I want them to believe in me like William has done."

Alois scratched through the ridiculous doodle of Agares he had made and wrote down the words story and believe, and underlined them with a thick blue stripe. "You want people to believe in your innocence?" He asked to clarify the words.

"No. Not at all," Ciel shook his head, "I am hardly innocent, nor did I ever pretend that I was. I killed a man, but not for the brutal reasons that were fabricated and announced by the newspapers."

"Alright," Alois licked his lips and took a comfortable position. "Tell me your side of the story."

Ciel pinched his bottom lip between his teeth. "Before we start, I'd like you to follow just one rule. If I tell you something in confidence, I want you to leave it out of the article."

"Naturally." Alois offered him his most trustworthy smile. "The content of the article will only hold the details you'd like to share with the world. Other information will be left out and will never be spoken of to anyone. You can trust me to take the words you tell me in confidence will be taken with me to my grave," he vowed solemnly. He then winched and immediately apologized for how he had phrased that sentence.

Ciel waved it away with a smile and rubbed his creased forehead for a moment, as if he was thinking about where to start. "Alright," he finally breathed, "to fully understand the choices I made and why I made them, I must start at the very beginning." He paused another moment to dig into his memory. "I have to go back to when I started my fourth year as a resident at the UMMC in Jackson."

* * *

><p>This must be a first for me to start my story with Alois over Ciel or Sebastian. I feel very confident about it though.. (not really)<p>

Do give me something to work with, a nice review is always appreciated like all of you well know. Thank you for reading my work, period.


End file.
