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[0]-Pain

Warning: Possible triggers. Read at own risk.

There is pain. It engulfs you in a prickly blanket, blinding your surroundings and tearing away at your strength. You barely manage to scream. A loud, piercing shriek that begs your tormentor to stop.

But they don’t, and you can feel the sickening, wrenching pain of your bones being snapped and torn out of their sockets. You can hear nothing over your own howls of pain, but you saw a hand, the fingers outstretched, reaching out of the blinding light.

You screamed louder as the hand drew closer, your brain connecting the agony you were being forced to endure to the gesture, to the feeling of touch, of being touched.

The hand was an enemy, a bringer of ache. Touch stabbed you and rearranged your skeleton. It tore your ligaments apart and readjusted organs.

Pain was touch. Touch was pain.

|0|

Dull ache chewed away at you from the inside. The person responsible for your pain sat in front of you, a book in his hands as he taught you English. Two steaming cups of tea and a large stack of books were the only things that separated the two of you.

You sat still in your seat as Dr. Moreau, as he had told you to call him, read off a sentence out of the book. Your eyes were glued to the cup of gold colored tea before you, your fingers jerked in their place on your lap, and the ears atop your head twitched.

In one swift motion you could leap across the table and kill him. You could wrap your fingers around tightly around his neck and repay him for the agony you endured.

Agony.

Dr. Moreau’s hand, reaching out of the light. His fingers, tearing you apart only to put you back together.

Your movements stilled. You did not want to touch him, to touch fear. For Dr. Moreau was pain, and pain was something you never wanted to experience again.

“[Name].” his voice was unfeeling, and you nearly cringed at the sound.

“’When the little boy bent down, the Devil prompted her and bam! she brought the lid down so hard that his head came off and fell in with the red apples.’” you said, repeating the line Dr. Moreau had spoken.

He nodded, and turned back to the book, and you busied your fingers with holding the tea cup.

|0|

Dr. Moreau was gone, and Scotland Yard filled the home of the once eminent physiologist. You sat on top of your bed in a dark nightgown, your eyes settled on the hands in your lap.

Dr. Moreau had left you, and you had never felt more grateful for the abandonment. It felt like some of your fear had been chipped away, the fragments falling like tattered feathers around your feet.

Scotland Yard would find you in your room, they would take pity on you, a broken creature with no will, and they would put you out of your misery.

But as the thought settled like dust in your mind and the sound of boots pounding against lacquered floors grew ever louder, you felt a spark of hope. A small bud that gave you the will to survive, something you had lost in the surgery.

Your head lifted and your gaze met the door to your room just as the rectangular plank of wood swung in.

“Oh my God.”

Your long, [H/C] tail, a shade darker/lighter than your hair, twitched on its place atop the blankets of your bed, your [E/C] eyes even with the gazes of the uniformed officers of Scotland Yard.

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‘When the little boy bent down, the Devil prompted her and bam! she brought the lid down so hard that his head came off and fell in with the red apples.’-quote taken from Grimms’ Tale “The Juniper Tree”.

I do not own Grimms’ Tale, Black Butler, The Island of Dr. Moreau or You.

[Name] [L/Name]-composed of one [H/C] cat, a leopard, and a deer.

Considered Dr. Moreau’s best work, [Name] resembles a human more than her animal counterparts. She has the ability to reconstruct her shape and/or take on the look of her three animal counterparts.

Chapter Text

[1]-Leaving

The carriage jerked forward and your fingers gripped the edges of the pale, soft seats that sat in the carriage in an effort to stay in place. The skirt of your [F/C] dress splayed around you, and you played with the [Other F/C] trim with your fingers.

“Why must I go, Ms. Anne?” you asked.

The woman who sat across from you smiled at you warmly, her golden eyes welcoming. “You know why, [Nickname].” she replied softly. “Bruce and I both agree that it would be better for you this way.”

You dropped the fabric you had been playing with and met the woman’s eyes, yours wide and frightened. “But I don’t want to leave you or Mr. Bruce.” you said, your voice taking a begging tone. “I don’t want to work for anyone but you, Ms. Anne.”

Ms. Anne reached across the space between you and slowly took your hand in hers, and you felt a small spark of pride for not recoiling at her touch. The lessons were working.

“I understand your want to be a wallflower, [Nickname].” Ms. Anne said. “And normally I wouldn’t fight you on this, but you’re the one who wants to overcome your fear, and you’re never going to do that if you continually hide behind someone else.”

You dropped your head at the woman’s words, your [E/C] eyes downcast. Ms. Anne patted your hand sympathetically and said, “Don’t worry, [Nickname]; we aren’t going to drop you off at his manor and forget about you.”

“That’s what it feels like.” you muttered sourly.

Ms. Anne chuckled softly and drew back, her golden eyes glimmering with amusement. “You might want to hide those, by the way.” she added.

You blinked at her words, confused at first, until you noticed the dark/light [H/C] tail resting across your lap. “O-Oh!”

Slowly the tail retracted back, shortening until it was gone completely as the round leopard ears atop your head shifted down to where human ears occupied their place on either side of your face, and the short, [F/C] antlers the had sat with the round cat ears on your skull slowly undid themselves.

The appearance was a default form for yourself, one which eased the transition into human or animal. Unknowingly, one of the animalistic traits would pop up when you were nervous, scared, or angry. You had gotten better at hiding the reminders of your surgery, but sometimes they managed to sneak up on you.

“[Nickname].”

You glanced up at Ms. Anne’s voice, your eyes wide with curiosity. What was she going to tell you? “Yes Ms. Anne?”

“We’re here.”

|0|

Sometimes Mr. Bruce’s children-Oliver and Olivia were their names-would decorate your antlers with pretty necklaces and stringed beads or feathers. It was fun to watch them wind the strings around your antlers, though the necklaces usually came from their mother’s own jewelry box.

One day, while the three of you were playing, one of the stringed pieces that the siblings were tying around your horns caught your eye. The piece would usually be wound into someone’s hair, and depicted a human looking charm branching off into a cat, a leopard, and a deer. The first time you saw it revealed on how odd it was that the jewelry was so similar to your own being.

You kept the jewelry with you at all times, usually tying it around your ankle or wrist so that it  would always be with you.

And as you walked up the steps of your new master’s home, you played with the deer charm on the trinket, the silver metal that comprised the object cool in your hands.

“Remember your lessons.” Ms. Anne whispered to you. You gave her small nod in reply and watched as she brought her fist up to the door and knocked.

A small moment of silence passed as the two of you waited for someone to open the door, and just as you entertained the thought of running back to the carriage the lacquered, elegant rectangle of wood opened inward, displaying the figure of a tall man in butler attire.

Chapter Text

[2]-Entering

He was tall and dark haired, his skin pale and eyes red. The maids back at Ms. Anne's manor would call him handsome, but you were too busy trying to calm your racing heart to notice his appearance.

The man bowed and with a small smile said, "Lady Quigley and Ms. [L/Name], I presume?" His voice was smooth and bore no ill-will, but it did nothing to soothe the dread that rolled like heavy stones in your stomach.

"Yes, that would be us." Ms. Anne said with a pleasant smile. You saw her hand twitch, as if she wanted to reach out and grab yours, but refrained from doing so.

The man straightened so that he stood at his original height once again. "The young master waits in his study for you." he said.

You took a deep breath and swallowed the shaking fear shivering in your throat before following Ms. Anne into the manor. You visibly tensed as you passed the butler, earning yourself a look of peculiarity from the man.

"The master's study is right this way."

The butler closed the door behind you before leading the two of to where you presumed your new master awaited.

"[Nickname], you seem a bit pale." Ms. Anne whispered beside you. The woman's brow was creased with worry and you smiled weakly in an effort to deter her emotions.

|0|

"Come in."

The butler's gloved hand grasped the doorknob and slowly turned it, the seconds that it took him to open the door stretching into minutes that melted into hours as you tried to regain control of your breathing.

The ornately carved rectangular wood swung inward, and the butler held the door open for Ms. Anne and yourself.

Your heart beat loudly in your chest, and a roaring sound filled your ears as you shuffled behind Ms. Anne, your fingers fumbling for the jewelry tied round your wrist.

Calm down. Remember your lessons. Calm down. He's not here, there's no reason for you to be afraid.

You took a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth, the feel of the deer charm cooling your sweaty palms.

Everything was going to be alright. Ms. Anne promised she wasn't going to abandon you, and you need this, you need to get over your phobia and move on with your life.

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Officer Bruce Howse adopted Dr. Moreau's abandoned test subject, and later in life Lady Anne Quigley offered the young girl a job as her maid. Anne herself has stated that she sees [Name] as a daughter she never had.

Chapter Text

[3]-New

His most prominent feature was a black eyepatch stretched across his right eye. The other, uncovered iris was a pretty shade of blue that matched the darker tone of his hair.

"I apologize for our late arrival, Earl Phantomhive. There were some...difficulties that had to be amended."

Ms. Anne was talking about you, and while you knew she meant no harm, you flinched involuntarily at the word "difficulty". Being a liability for the people who had helped you, who had saved you, was not an intention of yours.

The woman sat down in one of the chairs across from the desk that the Earl occupied, her golden eyes focused on the blue haired male. You stood standing behind her, your hands clasped in front of you while your fingers played with the string of jewelry tied around your wrist.

"I see." the Earl replied, his voice monotone. His gaze slid to you and you glanced to the butler, who had silently taken his place behind his master. "Is this the girl you wrote of?" Earl Phantomhive asked, his eyes taking in your submissive posture.

Ms. Anne glanced back at you, a frown turning the corner of her lips as she saw the frightened stance you had taken. You resembled a beaten dog, and if you had a tail it would be quivering between your legs. "Yes, this is [Name]." she said.

Earl Phantomhive kept his gaze on you and asked, "Is she mute?"

"No, she's just a bit...shy around strangers." Ms. Anne replied.

The Earl placed his chin in the palm of his hand, an eyebrow quirking upward as his gaze met Ms. Anne's. "Than I suppose she should get acquainted with the other servants." he droned. "I can't have her afraid of the people she'll be working with." Mr. Phantomhive glanced back at the butler behind him with a bored expression. "I'll have Sebastian show Ms. [Name] to the kitchen, she'll be able to meet the other servants there. If you agree to it, of course."

The thought of being alone with a stranger sent fear coursing like hot fire through your veins and your eyes shot to Ms. Anne, hoping and praying that she would go against the Earl's suggestion.

"It sounds like a great idea."

You nearly choked on your own spit when you heard her say the words, the words that you didn't want to hear.

"Sebastian." Earl Phantomhive said.

Stop it.

You fingered the jewelry tied around your wrist to calm yourself. Just so long as no one touched you, everything was going to be fine. There was no reason for you to get worked up over something that would lead to nothing.

No reason.

|0|

"Before you leave, would you kindly elaborate on the 'unfortunate circumstances' that you spoke of in your letter?"

Ms. Anne sighed, a small smile curving her lips as she said, "I was wondering when you would ask about that." 

Ciel Phantomhive leaned forward, the impassive expression he bore evident on his face. "Well I have, so please tell me exactly what is wrong with the woman I hired."

The golden eyed woman's smile vanished, and she was left with a sad frown. "[Name], due to a traumatic event, has developed a fear of touch. Although she has been trying to overcome her phobia, she still goes into shock whenever someone touches her." Ms. Anne said. "It does not matter if you are simply brushing against her or grabbing her, although her reaction to the contact may vary."

Ciel tilted his head to the side. "And what was the event that lead her to develop such a fear?" he asked.

"That is for [Name] to tell you, not I." Ms. Anne replied. "Now I must be on my way. I thank you again for allowing [Name] to work for you, it is necessary for her if she wishes to overcome her fear."

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[Name] gets along well enough with the other servants in Lady Anne's manor. Sometimes their prying questions or thoughtless comments sting, although they do not wish to harm her, verbally or physically.

Sometimes, due to a reason unknown by [Name], stray and/or wild animals will approach her, most of the feline or hoofed kind. She has a hunch as to why this occurs, but she chooses not to think too deeply the reason why they approach her and simply enjoys the company the animals give.

Chapter Text

[4]-Conversation

Your footsteps echoed in the quiet hall as Sebastian lead you to the kitchen. Your mind was racing, and you were thankful that the butler made no effort to start up a conversation. The mere thought of talking nauseates you to the point where you're afraid you may lose the contents of your stomach.

"Ms. [Name], are you alright?" 

"Hmn?" you mumbled, your gaze sliding up to meet Sebastian's.

"I asked if you were alright, miss." he repeated, amused.

You stumbled with a response, your brain having finally registered the butler's appealing facial features. "I-I'm fine." you mumbled quietly, and after realizing Sebastian might not have heard you, repeated the words louder.

Sebastian's head listed a bit to the side, a smirk curling his lips. He stepped closer, and you were moving back before you could comprehend the thought of putting distance between the two of you. "You're a bit pale, Ms. [Name]," he said. "What are you hiding?"

"[Name]." he called out. "Why are you hiding, [Name]?"

You shivered in your hiding place under the bed. Your tail was curled over your legs and your eyes were wide with fear. How did you get back here? Dr. Moreau was gone, so why did you hear his voice calling for your name?

Why was this nightmare so real?

"W-What?" you stuttered. The butler thought you were hiding something? Well, you were, but that information was private, not something you went screaming about in the center of town.

And certainly not something that advocated someone entering your personal bubble of space.

The butler closed his eyes, the smirk on his face falling into a smile so fake it burned. "Ah, I'm getting ahead of myself. The kitchen is right this way, Ms. [Name]."

You watched as Sebastian turned away and began walking again, leaving you to wonder when you ever stopped. You mulled the thought over in your head for a minute before deciding to follow behind the butler at a much slower and longer distance than before.

|0|

Sebastian opened the door to the kitchen and stepped to the side to allow you entry and your blood ran cold when you recognized the gesture.

You would have to walk past him and the distance between the two of you wouldn't be as far as you would have liked. And considering the little conversation from before, that gap had widened quite considerably.

But you have to do this, [Name]. Earl Phantomhive was kind enough to give you this job, this chance. You've got to take it.

You took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and moved toward the doorway.

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[Name]'s birthday is celebrated the same day she was found. Whether that is or is not her true date of birth is unknown.

[A/N]:

"Steadied yourself", translation:

Gave yourself the most amazing, most uplifting, pep-talk ever.

Chapter Text

[5]-Meeting

The servants of Earl Phantomhive, and your future coworkers, stood in a line facing you as you entered the kitchen.

It surprised you how small the staff of Phantomhive manor was compared to how clean and tidy the large building was kept. The possibility that five people were enough to keep the place visitor worthy didn’t add up correctly in your mind.

Perhaps that was why Earl Phantomhive had decided to add you to the staff.

“As you have been told, this is the new maid, [Name].” Sebastian said. “I am leaving her in your hands, in hopes that you will inform her of the particulars of her job here. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir!” three out of the four servants replied. The last one, a butler like Sebastian but much older, uttered a noise along the lines of, “Oh ho ho ho” instead.

Sebastian didn’t look convinced, but he turned and left you with the four servants. Half of you was glad he was gone, while the other half was upset that you had gotten off on the wrong foot with someone you were going to be seeing most, if not all, of your time at Phantomhive manor.

You slid your gaze back to the servants as the dark haired butler disappeared behind the kitchen doors, and instead took in your coworker’s appearances.

The gardener, a feminine boy with short, strawberry-blonde hair, stood on the left beside the butler, his turquoise eyes as bright as the red hair clips keeping his bangs out of his face.

Next to him was a maid. A woman with a cherry red hair and eyes hidden behind large, rounded glasses.

Standing at the end of the line was the chef. A man with blonde hair and turquoise eyes. Goggles hung around his neck and an unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth.

The maid greeted you first, her glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of her nose. “My name is Mey-rin, yes it is.” the redhead smiled. “I can show you around the manor so you don’t get lost!”

You couldn’t help the grin that curled your lips as you nodded your head in reply. Her personality was so cheerful.

Maybe Ms. Anne was right. Maybe this was just what you need to overcome your fear.

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Fear
/feer/
noun
an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.
verb
be afraid of (someone or something) as likely to be dangerous, painful, or threatening.