If there was ever a time to make an extremely offensive joke about setting Phantomhive Manor ablaze to escape what was inside, now would be that time.

The moment you were out of Ciel's sight, you ran as fast as you possibly could, not knowing what Sebastian would make of his orders. Would he take them literally, and find no humour in doing so, or would he do what he felt they meant, and what you'd prefer- a loose interpretation of rules and regulations?

You looked over your shoulder as you raced through the hallways, spotting no one behind you. Considering it only a temporary victory, you rounded a corner, hiding behind a tall houseplant, panting, straining to see where your pursuant was. Detecting nothing, let alone Sebastian following closely behind, you wondered if you actually were as downright intolerable as he'd expressed before. Sighing impatiently, you slid down against the wall adjacent to your unfit hiding place, and tried not to smell your air in agitation. Perhaps this was all some elaborate rouse.

It seemed like several minutes had gone by wen you heard footsteps rapidly approaching. Finally. You readied yourself for a fight, one in which you knew you'd be inevitably, sorrowfully outmatched, and got to your feet, fists raised half-heartedly, preparing for that same rough touch from only just that morning. This time you feared it would be much worse.

Strangely, you swivelled around, becoming aware of more footsteps coming from a completely opposite direction. The ones from before hadn't stopped, and though he clearly was supernatural enough to manipulate the effect of normal human feats of athleticism, you doubted Sebastian could spilt himself in two. You turned around again. There were three people. No, four. Perhaps the servants had actually come to help, since you were just so nauseating for their perfect superior to deal with, but that seemed incorrect to assume. If he could handle countless other more vexatious, remarkable issues, a stupid, impolite brat covered in salt couldn't be the thing that'd bring him to his knees.

You heard another person, then two, three, four more. There weren't that many people living here! Perhaps you were just imagining things, or, you knew demons could make you hear and see falsehoods, illusions that weren't really there, in certain circumstances, but this particular triviality sure seemed like a waste of power. A voice rang out, low and masculine. Then laughter followed. You recognised it. You'd heard it before, but never so personally, and it was too soon. You didn't have time to run, to call for help, as you heard a scream. It wasn't yours.

Rough hands, coming from all around you tore you from the wall, covering your mouth before you could let out a scream of your own.

"Alright, mates! We've got her. Let's go!"

"To the woods, boss?"

The last thing you heard before blacking out, a strange chemical scent filling your lungs as a cloth was shoved nearly down your throat was a harsh slap and a childlike yelp.

"Yes, you idiot! Stop asking the same question over and over again! It's incredibly annoying."

You didn't hear the third response, nor the fourth and final prelude to shuffling feet, gunfire and whooping as the assailants evaded capture, heading out of the mansion, towards the high trees leading past the other manor homes, towards the darkest, deepest part of a forest you never wanted to see. "Yeah, man. Quit it."

"You'll ruin the fun."