Author’s Note: Even though I can’t win WOTM two times in a row, I still want to be a part of this theme. I’ve had several ideas for Winx fics in the genre of supernatural-horror. I am going to publish a series eventually, but right now, I will just post this crossover one-shot about Icy. I’ve been watching a lot of ‘Black Butler’ so...welp, enjoy.
The streets of London were quiet, except for the pitter-patter of soft heels as a woman in a long, dark blue dress made her way down the roads. She looked as if she were in a hurry, seeing as her pace was quick and her strides were short. But, save for the occasional trip from her shoes once in awhile, she looked dignified and regal.
Her name was Icy Crevecoeur, and she was a member of an important noble family. The Crevecoeurs originated in France and moved to England in the mid 1400’s. Her family was renowned for its women. They were usually tall, slender, curvy things with hair as white as starlight. They were typically cunning and manipulating; more than once had the rumor circled around that the women in that family only married to get even more money from the dowry’s their husbands had. That’s why they were given the name ‘Crevecoeur’, which translates to “one who carves out the heart”.
Icy’s mother, Neige, had fallen into this stereotype as well. Her father had owned a booming shipping business. When they married, he had written into his will that when he died, his entire fortune would be given to her. It wasn’t long after Icy’s youngest sister, Stormy, was born, that he had fallen ill. Icy wasn’t allowed to see him very much, but she did remember the word diphtheria
had been used a lot to describe his symptoms. When he had died, all that he owned- his money, his home, his belongings, his business- all went to Neige and her three young daughters. When their mother had passed away, she had left everything to her three daughters, in hopes they would use their vast amount of property and wealth to continue the family line.
That is where Icy fell flat. She didn’t want
to get married. Boys never really interested her. She hated to feed the stereotype that all the ladies in her family were some kind of gold-diggers, and she also hated the confines that marriage brought. Once you were married, you had to serve your husbands every whim. You had to stay home twenty-four-seven and make sure that he is satisfied. Icy didn’t want to be chained to such a mundane and pointless existence. Her sisters had gotten married already (Darcy to some bloke named Valtor, and Stormy to some bloke named Gantlos) and they constantly encouraged her and pushed her to find someone and settle down. And Icy had told them time and time again that she didn’t want to.
Instead, when she had turned fifteen, she had decided to take up her fathers shipping business. It took some work to fully understand what everything meant, and to practice her skills at the accounts and bills, but once she got it, she became a master at it. Most of the exports made from London were made thanks the Crevecoeur family. Icy had done such a spectacular job at managing it, that the Queen herself had even made several orders before.
Which is why she was walking through London now. She had a meeting with an important client, and did not want to be late. She didn’t live too
far from their house, so she decided that it would be more leisurely to walk, instead of taking the carriage there.
Icy wasn’t frightened of the night. No, she very much enjoyed it. London was such a large and complicated and loud city during the day. People from all over the world were constantly surrounding her; when she was at the market, when she was at the port, even when she was at home. Nighttime was when she could get away from it all. The stars would come out and twinkle in the dark blanket known as the sky. Instead of the harsh sun beating down on her neck- forcing her to wear atrocious neck collars to protect herself- it was instead the moon’s peaceful white glow that was shining on the sleeping city. Night allowed Icy to relax, and she loved it for that.
She smiled to herself, happy, as she continued down the stony path. She took a right and entered a small alley- a known shortcut that she had discovered herself one day. She knew the little space well, so she had confidence in herself as she strode inside. She knew she had nothing to fear….nothing to fear at all.
“Well, well, well. Look what I got ‘ere. Looks like a wee little mouse has stumbled into my territory.”
Icy froze. Someone was in here? Where? Her bright blue eyes scanned the darkness, in hopes that she could spot the attacker. Bloody hell, I can’t see a damn thing.
She cursed to herself, and looked up at the moon in vain- her only source of light. The celestial body seemed to grin cruelly down at her, as its final streams of light were swallowed by dark, ominous clouds.
“Oh you’s a pretty one, yes you are. And you’s lookin’ rather rich and fancy, if I don’t say so meself.” The voice hissed, as it drew closer and closer towards Icy.
Her body began to shake, as she continued to search hopelessly for this man to try to defend herself. If only I didn’t take this shortcut; If only I had taken the normal route; If only I had taken the blasted carriage….
Icy shook her head. Asking the “what if’s” would not help the situation she was in. She had to fight, she had to fight to live. If she didn’t win, well, at least she could put up a good struggle.
A rough and calloused hand grabbed her by the throat, and she could feel the cold and sharp point of a knife as it was pressed roughly against her side. “We going to have some fun, yes we is.” The man whispered, as his breath- which reeked of gin- fanned against her face.
“Over my dead body, you slimy prat.” Icy snarled, and stomped on his foot. The man howled in pain, and Icy dug her heel into his toes. She heard something crack
and knew she had broken something- her attackers moans of pain being another indicator she was right. She quickly elbowed him the stomach, which caused him to double back to try and regain his balance.
This is it…. Now’s my chance,
Icy thought. She had to get that knife. She ran over to the man and kicked his legs from out under him. The guy collapsed unto the cold streets with a loud thud
, as his knife skidded out of his hands. Icy smirked, and walked over to grab it- stomping on his hands as she passed, for good measure. She grabbed the knife and and headed towards the man. She squatted down and placed the weapon under this neck. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slash your neck open to see how filthy your blood really is.” She hissed, her voice coated his venom.
“If ya kill me now, I won’ get the chance to violate that there pretty body of yours. I won’ get tha chance to hear ya screamin’ for mercy as ya beg me to stop. I won’ get tha chance to slide that there knife over that perfect little neck of yours.” He spat, before he began to laugh a low and evil chuckle.
Icy let out a warrior-like scream, completely filled with utter rage and contempt, as she repeatedly kicked him in the face. “How dare
you! You’re a vile
, disgusting pig
who never amounted to anything! If the world had given a damn about you, you wouldn’t be here right now trying to rob a successful woman like me to just get a cheap thrill. It’s scum like you that are ruining this beautiful country. You’re stains against this nation...you’re unclean...and you must
be wiped out!”
She stabbed the knife into his throat, and the blade pierced right through the soft flesh. She let out another scream before she removed the weapon, and continued to stab the assailant. She stabbed his arms, she stabbed his legs, she stabbed his groin, she stabbed his chest, she stabbed his stomach, and she brutally stabbed and mutilated his face.
Snuff out the unwanted…snuff out the unclean!
She didn’t know how long she had been stabbing him for. But she understood this was absolute overkill. His dark blood stained her blue dress and black gloves, and gave them a dark and crusty hue. Her clean white face and hair were speckled with his blood, while her hands were completely stained with the fluid. She didn’t know when she would stop, or if
she would stop. She was just so
angry. Eventually, she tired herself out, and with her last ounce of rage, she pierced his heart; the sound making a sickening crack
as she pierced through several bones.
Her breathing was uneven and shallow. She was exhausted. She tried to wipe the sweat on her forehead, but this only lead for more blood to be smeared on her forehead. Icy didn’t seem to realize the sheer magnitude of the crime she had just committed against another individual. She rationalized that he was asking for it, so it must be okay.
The moon finally showed itself once again, as the dark clouds finally parted and allowed soft moonlight to illuminate the surroundings. Icy’s heart almost stopped when she saw the scene in front of her. The man was unrecognizable. His body looked like it had imploded with the amount of blood and parts that were strewn about the street. Icy began to shake furiously. She
had done this…
She lifted up her hands. They were stained with blood, his blood. Tears welled up in her eyes as she started to process what she had just done. “I-I killed somebody…” She mumbled, as large drops fell from her blue eyes. “No...I...massacred
somebody…” She whispered, and covered her face with her hands as she began to weep out of agony and regret.
“Darling why in devil’s name are you crying? That was absolutely marvelous
, a stupendous
show, really. I would be bragging for months if I did something like that!”
A breath got stuck in Icy’s throat. Who was there? Somebody had seen the crime unfold? Were they going to arrest her, or worse, kill her? Icy took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves, before she removed her hands from her face and whirled around to see who it was.
It was a man. He was standing on top of a nearby roof, and leaning against the flagpole that stood nearby. He had long red hair that shined brightly in the moonlight, and he was carrying something with him.
“Who...who are you?” Icy croaked, as she tried to wiped the blood away from her eyes.
The man let out a chuckle before he lept from the rooftop. He landed on the ground smoothly, elegantly- something that seemed to not be humanly possible. The man pushed up his red glasses with his black gloves, before he adjusted his item. “Oh you. My name is Grell, and I am butler to die
for.” He said and smirked at Icy; two rows of pointed teeth showing up under his lips.
Well love, I'm simply a butler to DIE for~
Icy flinched at his strange appearance, but her focus was pulled to the item that Grell had slung over his shoulder. It was rather large, and torpedo shaped. It had a big handle and the bulk of it seemed to be made of metal, which was coated in hooked, razor sharp blades. The thing terrified her. But his attitude about the whole murder was something else that put her on edge about this guy. She didn’t feel comfortable…
“T-that’s nice…you’re not going to tell the police what happened, are you?” Icy asked, and she felt rather vulnerable doing so.
Grell let out a high-pitched laugh. “Oh heavens no! Why would I ever do such a thing to you? You’re fabulous
darling, simply fabulous.” He said, and pinched Icy’s cheek.
“F-fabulous…?” Icy looked back down at her stained hands. How could Grell be so calm about all this? Icy had committed a sin; Icy had committed a crime; Icy had committed manslaughter
. “How can you possibly say that about me? I just killed someone!” Icy snapped, as her voice cracked.
Grell frowned and cocked his head to the side. “And? People die everyday, love. Why are you making such a big deal about this? Plus you’re stained with red; the color of passion, anger and murder.” He giggled, and wiggled his hips. “Oh just talking about this is making me feel all giddy!”
Icy felt like she was going to be sick. How could she go on with her life? Sure she could just try to forget this ever happened, but it would always
be in the back of her mind. It would be the thing to haunt her nightmares; it would be the thing to drive her insane; it would be the thing to drive her to her death. Icy glanced back down at the knife. Should she do it?
“You know, killing yourself would just make my job a whole lot easier.” Grell suddenly said, as he pulled out a worn, leatherbound book.
Icy’s heart skipped a beat. “W-what? I thought you said you weren’t a cop!” She snarled, as her eyes flashed angrily up at him.
Grell snorted, and flipped some of his long hair over his shoulder. “I’m not a cop, you lovely little idiot. I’m a Reaper.”
Icy furrowed her brows in confusion. “A what…?”
Grell sighed overdramatically. “You don’t
know what a Reaper is? Ugh. Well, I’m a supernatural being that is assigned to collect souls. When I kill you, I can watch your cinematic record- which is basically your life in one big film. Those can help me determine whether or not you’re worth living.”
Icy couldn’t believe her ears. This sounds so crazy...a reaper? But...if he kills you, you could escape from this mess, you could escape from this life. It was a good life...yes. But now it’s time for this story to come to a close…
Icy shakily got up from where she was standing and walked towards Grell. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her entire body seemed to be jittering, but her mind was clear. She knew what she had to do. “Kill me.”
Grell let out a dramatic wail. “Whaat? Why?” He growled, angry that this lady wouldn’t be his new accomplice. She seemed so fond of red! They were a perfect match!
“I have stained my life...there’s no point in living now…” Icy mumbled, as tears began to stream down her cheeks.
Grell sighed. “Fine, fine, love. If this is what you want…” He said, before he revved up his weapon- his death scythe. The thing rumbled to life, and its blades spun so fast that the frame and its razors seemed to morph into one. “Don’t worry dear, this won’t hurt a bit.” Grell sneered, before he rammed it into Icy’s chest.
Blood splattered everywhere, as did reels and reels of film. Several frames surrounded Icy as her life literally began to flash before her eyes. Grell could see when she was born; he could see her childhood, her sisters and her mother; he could see her grow up and take charge of the family business. He could see she was independent; he could see she was strong.
“Such a shame that she want to die…” He said, before a cruel smirk covered his face. “Oh me, you can be so clever sometimes!” He said. With the snap of his fingers, a shining blue light appeared out of Icy’s chest. The wispy orb floated over to Grell, and the Reaper grabbed it; her soul, along with her cinematic record, disappearing into his hand. “Now that that’s out of the way,” He said, and suddenly, Icy’s body was dropped to the ground. Grell walked over and patted her face. “Now, now Sleeping Beauty- time to wake up!”
Icy’s light blue eyes fluttered open. The woman groaned and rubbed her head. She was obviously confused, and didn’t seem to know where she was. “What’s going on…? Where am I…? Who am I…?” She asked.
Grell smirked at her. “Your name, my dear, is Icy. You’re a witch with a heart of ice and you were sent here to destroy all the scum that get in your way.” Grell explained.
Icy suddenly felt a slight burning in her chest. When the pain had subsided, she felt different. She felt new, fresh...powerful. The new-born ice witch smirked cruelly up at the Reaper. “Yes...I can feel it. This power…” She stood up and with the snap of her fingers, her bloody Victorian gown transformed into a dark blue latex outfit with high-heeled boots.
Grell cooed. “Oh you look fabulous!
Though I do prefer red...oh no matter, you look so much better now. Much less pathetic.” He said, and grabbed Icy’s hand. “It is my honor to introduce you to this city, Icy. Get ready, because your new life- and your new reign of terror- is about to get up close and personal with this world. Look out everyone, because Icy is here~!”
Author’s Note #2: So how did Icy get her powers? Grell, of course! ;P Anyways, this has got to be the longest thing I’ve written in awhile (It’s over 6 pages long on googledocs. Phew). I hoped you guys liked it, I really enjoyed writing this. Rate and comment, thanks.
When a reaper takes your soul, we can watch your cinematic record. Your life literally flashes before your eyes!