. . .

Their foot steps echoed down the enormous room. It was empty now, closed on holiday for the death of some British General Ciel didn't know the name of. Ciel gently ran his leather gloved hand over the lever.

"So, all the victims were just enjoying their ride before their lives were taken?"

"It would seem so. That is just how we've heard from the survivors and the Queen when she sent you that letter last week."

"Well," Ciel tore his eyes away from the roller coaster two seater.

It looked just like any normal coaster's place to sit. Even being in this park itself, it was hard to picture this place, that brought so much laughter and happiness, as one that has seen the most gruesome humans can be.

Deep ocean blue met crimson.

"Let's go get ourself a killer."

. . .