Ciel wasn't watching where they were going as they ran. They kicked a stone slab full force and started screaming curses before they even dropped onto the stone. The sharp but cracked edge bit into their shins and added to the many colorful words that echoed out through the dark. They hissed as they sat on the step. Cradling their injured foot in their hands. They growled and rolled onto their hands and knees; they looked up at the stairs that led up into a dark spiraling tower that resembled the beehive of the temple of light but the entrance wasn’t at the bottom like the temple of light. It was at the top.

Ciel couldn’t see the doorway at the top of the tower but they knew where the entrance was. They got to their feet and started limping up the wide onyx stone steps. The widest steps led to the building itself where they became narrower and curved around the building. Ciel leaned against the walls of the spiraling towers. The stone was rough against their palms, their foot was throbbing. Their knee hardly wanted to hold them. Nearly buckling every time they put their weight on it. They looked up at the rest of the steps they still had to go with a tired sigh.

They turned and sat on the steps, sliding up to the wall as close as they could and held up their foot. It was swollen and heavy bruising was starting to discolor their toes. Ciel pressed their lips together and tried to summon any amount of light to make the mass of stairs easier to climb but again their light only dimly flickered. Ciel kept pushing the light. Their hand shook but still nothing. The flickering light again died out and Ciel cried out in frustration and slammed their fist into the wall. They rubbed their face and ran their fingers into the roots of their hair. Pulling at the tangles and knots.

Sounds of barking that eerily resembled the sound of barking laughter echoed through the debris. Ciel got to their feet and pressed themself up against the wall. They couldn’t see any movement in the fallen logs and they weren’t sure if the beasts would dare come up the steps. It wasn’t a chance they wanted to take. Sliding along the wall they started dragging themselves up the steps. Trying to will themself invisible as they slowly but steadily climbed up toward the doorway at the top. Watching the ground fall farther away with every turn. Seeing the chaotic movements of things crawling in the thorns; which would stop them for a minute or two. Once assured the creature’s sporadic jumps weren’t aimed at them would get them moving again. The steps along the stairs were getting smaller. Shrinking closer to the tower wall.

Their fingers brushed against an edge. They were at the door at the very top of the tower. The ground so far below it couldn’t be seen beneath the churning black mist. The last step was so small that their toes were all they were standing on. Before they ducked inside they paused. A brief flashback made them slide much slower and keep a sturdy grip on the doorway as they slipped into the door. Their feet lifted off the ground again, just like the temple of light. They clung to the door frame as the gravity changed. They flipped and held onto the door frame with their eyes tightly closed. Their ears popped and they almost threw up as everything flipped. The world stilled and Ciel opened their eyes again. They hung onto the top of the door and looked down to find where the new ground was.

They released their tight grip and dropped a few feet onto the landing of a giant inverted set of stairs. The way down now was the way up and the stairs followed down into blackness. There was a creeping blue tinged smoke that was rising up the stairs that Ciel recognized as the smell of cigarette smoke. But there was that second scent that mingled with it; that same sweet smell that brought something out from inside them.

“This place..This is a place to be forgotten,” Ciel whispered, shaking their head and backing toward the entrance again. “I shouldn’t be here.” They turned but paused. A dreamlike memory of a red streak passing them and running down the stairs flashed before their eyes. Ciel turned to the stairs. The red shape was like the stain left on the eyes from staring at a bright light. Along with it was a quiet uneven echo that drifted slowly after the streak. It brought remnant tears to Ciel’s eyes, they were caught off guard by the reaction. They turned toward the door and looked up it but they weren’t thinking about how to get to it.

They were thinking about the red cape. Their parents both had pictures of them running about the house with some kind of red blanket or towel tied around their shoulders. But whenever Ciel remembered it. They remembered it being a long cloak with a hood. There were lots of half-forgotten memories that bounced between jumping on the couch and running through trees. There was an epiphany just hiding below the surface of their thoughts. One they were far too curious to ignore. They spun around and started down the stairs. They were fully aware that they were going to find misery at the bottom but they were hoping among the misery was an answer or two.

The stairs went down continually with no landings or branching paths; just one straight shot down. Ciel had lots of time to think as they walked; which they had been doing a lot of recently. There were a lot of things here that were familiar. Things they could swear they even remembered. Like remembering a beloved game or story from childhood. The ground floor of the tower finally came into sight. Ciel could see a pair of stone statues at the head of the room. Opposite where the stairs finally ended. From the statues came the wisps of blue tinged cigarette smoke and a brown muddy sort of mist. Once Ciel got to the bottom of the stairs they went ice cold, the statues were familiar (though vague) recreations of their parents. Their mother was leaned against the wall with a snarl on her face. A stone cigarette in hand; a slight gap between her lips where the blue curls of smoke were escaping.

On the other side was Ciel’s father. Standing straight with a disappointed stare. In his hands was a rag and some kind of stone recreation of a car or motorcycle part. The muddy brown curls came from within it and so close it was finally recognizable as gasoline. The wisping smoke billowed around their ankles as they stood at the far end of the room. Staring into the dark grey stone faces that made them freeze just as solid. Ciel looked down at their bare feet. The nasty bruises all over their bare legs, the cuts, the dried mud and dried blood.

Taking the smallest step was as hard as lifting a cinder block. But every step was a little lighter. Ciel walked between the stone figures, their glares turning to follow them. Ciel put their hands on the door at the end of the room. It was made of cold iron and drifted open with the slightest of pressure. The air was cold and stale down the dark corridor. Ciel could see their own breath as they stepped into the corridor. There were doors along the corridor, all made of the same iron. All closed. All locked. The stone and iron could stop whatever was inside from escaping but not the noise from inside the doors.

“I’m not yelling! If I was yelling you would know!” The distorted voice of her mother shot through the door. Ciel jumped nearly a foot in the air. Before they could recover there was a voice that answered from the other side of the hall;

“You’re crazy! How can you even call yourself a mother!” Ciel felt their throat close. They took a breath and tried to block out the fights that ended long ago in the real world.

“They aren’t together any more. None of this is real,” Ciel reassured themself. “No more real than a distant, unpleasant memory.” Though quiet, their words were enough to silence the yelling coming from every door. They kept walking, a funny thought crossed their mind.

“Stand tall, keep your shoulders level. Walk like your out to murder an entire assassin’s guild.” They were thinking but their thoughts were speaking themselves out loud without Ciel opening their mouth. It was startling but hearing it with their ears and seeing it in their mind brought more courage they didn’t know was there. It didn’t make them feel any less small inside. But pretending they didn’t in some backwards way helped. The corridor was reduced to nothing but quiet murmurs. But it’s end was split into two opposite corridors. The left was covered in the blue curling cigarette smoke while the left had the heavy mist of the muddy brown gasoline. Ciel looked down both corridors.

“You always loved your mother best, didn’t you baby?” The ghostly voice of their mother beckoned from the left.

“Why would you ever want to leave your dad, kid? I got everything you could ever need!” Their father’s voice countered from the right. Ciel felt empty inside. They didn’t want to pick either direction.

“C’mere baby. You know he’s nothing but a waste of human DNA.” Their mother crooned.

“Your mom’s a right bitch, kid. You and I know that best.” Their father assured them. They looked back and forth between the halls. Their heart being split into two. The dead end in front of them had a single pedestal with a torn paper. Ciel approached it and put the two pages together. It was a picture of a frowning face. Ripped right down the center. On the two halves were a child’s scrawl in colored crayon;

Who I am here,

Is what I am not there.

Ciel put the two pages together and set them back down on the pedestal. They wished a third corridor, one not reminiscing on either of their parents, was available. They raised an eyebrow curiously. They hovered their hand over the torn page and looked at the wall ahead of them.

“Open,” they commanded. The bricks creaked for a second before they began to fall away. A dark tunnel between the two corridors opened up. Overhead lights flickered on into oblivion. New doors made of wood were all wide open in this new corridor. Above the opening was a pair of theatre masks, both unsmiling. One was black and the other was white. Ciel passed around the pedestal and into the new corridor they opened. Behind them the other two halls were crying out and begging them not to leave. Making it feel like their ears were bleeding. The cries faded as they walked farther down the corridor. Passing the first door was a scene that Ciel didn’t really remember in its entirety but did have a vague idea of it happening.

They were sitting in the living room of their mother’s house while their mother was introducing them to her new boyfriend and insisting they call them dad so as not to hurt his feelings. Ciel watched this scene through the mirror. The memory of themself sitting on the beige carpet had their face replaced with the white mask. The masked memory nodded at their mother lethargically.

Ciel turned away from the open door and continued down the hall. On the opposite side of the corridor was another door that stood out to them. The mirror memory showed another smaller version of them. This one with a black mask instead of a face. They were sitting with the two children from their dad’s new wife. Waiting for their mother to pick them up. Their dad was grumbling about their mother and how if she didn’t want them then she could at least release custody of them.

Ciel drew in a deep breath. They closed their eyes and kept walking. Chanting in their mind to keep walking, the sound echoing around them. It was easier to hear it and focus on it then the other scenes around them. *** They passed a split looking frame that separated the corridor without a door. Just passed it Ciel was stopped dead by the sound of a dog’s quiet whining. They turned and rushed toward the door the sound was coming from. Inside was a shiny but blurry room where the blurry image of themself was sitting. Kicking their feet in a plastic chair. This image had no mask, a quick look around the corridor showed none of the images of themself on this side of the corridor was wearing a mask. Nor was there any mention of their parents; together or apart.

Within the reflective surface Ciel watched their small image kicking their feet. The noise of the room was clearer right outside the door. It was overwhelming with the sound of dogs whining and barking and howling. Even the smell of cleaners and antiseptic was wafting off the mirror surface. The lady in the blue scrubs came out and held out a little braided collar with a tag on it.

Ciel stepped back and closed the door. They leaned on the door, breathing heavily. They hadn’t seen the entire scene but they were watching it play out in their mind.