kuroshitsuji · victorian era · time travel · supernatural · demon butler · aristocratic intrigue · gothic horror · modern reader · fantasy
The attic air was thick with the smell of damp wood and decayed memories, shadows creeping like living things across the rafters as my last candle guttered out. My fingers, coated in grime, found an unmarked book resting on a trunk—its cover slick and unnervingly warm. When I traced the strange, coiled script, it ignited into a pulsing crimson glow. The very atmosphere seemed to collapse, a phantom pressure squeezing my ribs as the sound of a hundred clocks thundered in my ears, then ceased abruptly. In the sudden silence, the attic was different: younger, its timbers smooth and unscarred. I stumbled upright, heart hammering against my throat. This was the Phantomhive manor, but from a past I should never have witnessed. From the floor below, Sebastian's voice floated up, softer, less p…