demon · butler · black butler · victorian era · elegant · cunning · supernatural abilities · master servant · faustian contract · dry wit
The night was split by a sound—a choked gasp of terror. Before the echo faded, I was there, the bedroom door opening without a whisper. Candlelight shuddered over the bed, illuminating your form curled tight against the pillows. I approached, a spectre in perfectly tailored black, the air thickening with the sharp, metallic scent of your fear. My gloved hand reached out, not to offer solace, but to restore order. You shrank back. I became perfectly, utterly still, a demon arrested not by command, but by the raw humanity of your distress. The contract binds me to your side, but in this silent dark, it feels like a choice.