Black Butler Backgrounds Novels & Stories

"Excuse me, gentlemen. Dinner is ready." A mysterious smile lingered on the butler's face. Having overheard their conversation, he knew perfectly well that Park simply refused to admit how much he missed this place—and the people in it. "Thank you, Mr. Oh." Park smiled at the butler and was about to stand when Ethan's phone suddenly rang. The entire room froze. Belle's breath caught in her throat. Four pairs of eyes immediately turned toward Ethan as he glanced at the screen before answering. "Yes." His voice was calm and serious. No one dared speak. The room remained deathly silent as Ethan listened to the person on the other end of the line.

He certainly knew how much she disliked Dana on their first meet. Eira groaned in frustration. “Do I look like a tutor to him? I’d rather be left alone.” ____________ The Black Hall was a dodgy place fit for creatures of the night. It had been more than just a hall once, Nate could tell from the ruins at the front that greeted anyone who visited it. A castle, perhaps, that once belonged to a high lord. Alex claimed it to have belonged to him, but Nate didn’t believe that man. All that remained of it was a hall now with black walls and cracked marble floor beneath a dome-shaped ceiling made of painted glass that let water droplets in every time the clouds wept.

The air in the apartment did not vibrate with the city’s hum anymore; it rattled with the rhythmic, mechanical clicking of a high-speed projector. Every shadow cast against the peeling wallpaper was sharp, edged with the artificial contrast of a high-budget horror film. Silas Blackwood stood in the center of the living room, his hands trembling with a human frailty he had never known in the North. He looked at Kaelen, his son, whose eyes were no longer the stormy sea-grey of a Thorne-Blackwood heir, but two hollow, light-drinking pits of liquid black ink.

The carriage door swung open with a soft, ominous click. Butler Finch stepped down, his cold, gaunt figure sweeping the crowd with a silent warning in his pale eyes. He wore the formal livery of House Duskbane — deep purple, silver trim, the crescent moon emblazoned on his breast. He extended a meticulously gloved hand into the carriage's dark interior. It was Lumira who stepped out.

The other side was filled with beeping monitors, IV drips, and oxygen tanks. ‎ ‎And in the center, sitting at a long ebony dining table set for three, was a figure in a wheelchair. ‎ ‎Julius Blackwood. ‎ ‎He was terrifyingly small. His body was withered, his skin clinging to his bones like translucent parchment. His hands, resting on the arms of the chair, were skeletal claws. He looked like a corpse that had been dug up and dressed in a velvet suit. ‎ ‎But his eyes were alive. ‎ ‎They were bright, feverish, and predatory. They locked onto me instantly, stripping away my defenses.

There was a beautiful black piano at the foot of a long black staircase with black curved railings that led to the second floor. But that wasn’t all. Behind the sectional was another set of oversized chairs, cute tan tables, and lights on around the space. At the far back, there were double doors and halls leading outside. There were more railings on the second floor and windows lined the part of the hallways I couldn’t see from where I stood. The interior had a black and white color scheme. “What do you think?” Andrius asked. Looking toward him, I found him watching me. The excitement was clear on his face.

What the hell kind of hunter am I? Black walked through the kitchen into the living room, which was separated by a small partition and an archway. Beautiful, modern and calm. The entire interior design was done in black and red, rarely where a different color slipped. The same colors - black and red - were close to him. They calmed Black, bringing serenity and detachment from the whole world around him into his soul.

They are wearing more makeup and their dresses got magically shorter. “Good evening.” I answer. “Do you need help?” They fake a shy smile and run their fingers through their long hair. One of them places her hand on the Black Tiger’s shoulder, “What’s your name?” she asks with a melodious tone. I can't stop staring at her hand and I suddenly got scared for her. You never know what might happen. The Black Tiger doesn't seem to care. He peacefully takes his glass and sips his martini. The other girl moves next to him and tightens her arms around her sides to bring out her chest. Pitiful.

Quickly the door opened, the Butler ran into the office, a huge glass jug was on his hands. "One more seconds of lateness is enough for me to drink your blood and bury you six feet under my feet." Blade said, quickly collecting the jug, the Butler yelped with fear, quickly standing ten feet away from the king. Blade glared at the Butler, the Butler was a vampire yet he behaved like a human.

I cut him off impatiently as we geared towards the front door. It abruptly opened and in front of us was an old butler. My eyes narrowed, he looked human. To make more caution, I threw a dose of wolfsbane powder at him. It had no effect, only making him cough instead with a frown on his face. “Can I help you gentlemen?” “He seems human.” Sebastian whispered from behind me. I scowled deeply, “We’re looking for someone. Asher Blackwood and Aurora Thompson to be precise.” I studied his face greatly for any sign of a facade, he remained stoic, eyes expressionless, “I don’t think I know who that is.”