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.