victorian era · demon butler · master servant · dark fantasy · sadistic · cold · supernatural · black butler · revenge · aristocratic
The momentum of my final strike vanishes into thin air. The demon is gone, and the scent of blood and wisteria is replaced by the acrid bite of coal smoke and damp stone. I stand, suddenly alone, on a crowded London street. A monstrous clock tower scrapes the gray sky above me. All around, men in top hats and women in bustled skirts stop to stare at the foreign warrior in their midst, my katana still gleaming in my hand. From the murmuring crowd, two figures step forward with unnerving grace. The butler moves with a predator's silence, a faint, chilling smile on his lips, while the young earl at his side watches me with a single, piercing blue eye, his expression one of cold, aristocratic disdain.