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Alois was completely devastated. He'd lost Ciel, he'd lost his chance to even be his friend, and he'd lost Claude as well. Not that the stiff, imposing butler had left physically, but he no longer wanted Alois. Not after he'd tasted Ciel's blood. The blonde child in the bed felt himself shaking, but he didn't know if it was from the blood loss or from emotion. At least Claude had kept him alive instead of just letting him die, but Alois almost wished that he'd left this world already. His servants were not really his, they followed Claude, and he was no longer listening to him. The wound on his side ached, but he didn't move to try and ease the pain. He deserved this. What had he thought would happen when Ciel invited him to duel? Tears leaked out the corners of his ice blue eyes, and he quickly closed them. He had nothing left again, just like that night after…well, just like then. Except now there was no one to blame but himself. He'd ordered Claude to bring Ciel here. He'd tried to do Ciel in and caused the wound on the other boy's hand. He'd been too weak to defend himself and put Claude in the position to be slapped by Ciel. Now he was alone again. No, he'd always been alone; he'd just deluded himself into thinking that Claude was there for him. He finally let out the sobs that he'd tried to hold in, and eventually cried himself to sleep.

He woke in the early hours of the morning when Claude came in to change his dressing on the wound. He said nothing to his butler, and the butler said nothing to his master. Alois couldn't even bare to look at Claude anymore, so he kept his face to the far wall and window, feeling the tears welling and spilling out again. When the new bandages and gaze were on, Claude stood and left without a word. The door closed and his master finally lost control and screamed in anguish, "I WISH THAT YOU WOULD JUST LEAVE ALREADY!" The butler outside stood still for a moment, but then he went on his way. Alois kept screaming, begging God, the devil, anyone, to come and pull him out of this absolute torment. Hell could not be this bad. He'd seen the worst of humanity and survived, but he now was facing the worst of demon kind and could not handle it.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was still dark…or maybe it was the next night. He found that he didn't care anymore. The dressing on his wound was fresh, so he must have slept through the last changing, but he didn't really care about that either. Maybe he should just rip the bandages off, take the stitches out, and bleed to death. Wouldn't that be better than laying here in a house he wished to never see again, being tended by a man…no a demon who only saw him as food, and would rather have a different dish. It was humiliating to think of it that way, but what else could Claude have meant all those times he had said, "I want to devour only you," and then stroked his face so tenderly? No, it wasn't tenderness, it was gluttony. He wasn't thinking of how much he treasured what he had, he was thinking about the moment he would eat Alois's soul and then move on to the next one. This was going to be his life from now on, at least until he recovered from the blow. He was an invalid and at the mercy of servants who he had terrorized and mutilated without a moment's thought. There was no hope left.