Chapter One: Cinematic Records

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A/N: Hiya hiya everybody! As some of you may know, I recently finished writing my SebaGrell fanfic, "Intimate Interlude". I decided that I wanted to continue writing Black Butler fanfiction, so I present to you "Death's Daughter"! I've been working on this for a very long time now and I've been anxious to post it so that you, my darling and faithful readers, could read it! Now, it's finally here! I hope you enjoy Chapter One: Cinematic Records!

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"Papa!" I screamed, falling to my knees at my father's side.  I grabbed his shoulders and shook his limp body up and down, trying to wake him up. I cried out, letting the tears fall. I picked up his heavy arm, moving my fingers to his wrist to try and find a pulse. Hopeless and defeated, I dropped his arm, letting it crash against the cement. Burying my face in my hands, I sat back down, away from the remains of what used to be my father. I witnessed him getting shot, taking his last breath, and now I had seen him die.

I don't know how long I sat there crying. I rested my back up against the brick building behind me as I curled up even further into my fetal position. I peeking up over my arms crossed over my knees, and winced. My head shot back down into my lap upon seeing the corpse. I didn't know how to handle my father's death. My mother had passed away when I was younger, but we were able to survive somehow. But now he was gone and the only one left. I felt alone and abandoned. It was a painful sensation, a feeling that I had never felt before. I hated that new feeling. I hated being alone. I hated it all.

Closing my eyes and letting a few tears fall, I sighed into my lap. My breath was cold and shaky, trembling against the cold night. I rubbed at the corners of my eyes with the hem of my sleeve, drying the tears. I knew that I had to get up, and I knew that I had to get out of here, but I couldn't. I had lost all motivation to do anything.

I sat there for a while longer before I heard footsteps. I squinted my eyes shut, I didn't want to deal with anybody then. Still, I lifted my head up just high enough to see who it was. Two men, both wearing glasses and suits, stood above my dead father. The shorter of the two, the brunette, stared at him with compassion and sorrow, like it was one of his life-long friends who had passed away. The taller, the blonde with half of his hair in cornrows, held a saw over his shoulder and looked at my father with a bored and uninterested look in his eyes. 

The brunette pulled out a book, flipping the page open. "Brielle Marie Lynch," he stated my name out loud, "Daughter of Henry Johnathon Lynch and Lydia Anne Griggs-Lynch, born on October thirteenth, eighteen-seventy-two. Died on September twenty-seventh, eighteen-eighty-eight by gunshot." He closed the book, and looked back down to my father, his face confused. "This doesn't quite seem right,"

"Yeah," The blonde agreed, "He doesn't seem much like a Brielle Marie."

"Shut up," The brunette shook his head, rolling his eyes at the sarcastic remark. "No, this man wasn't supposed to die tonight. This," he emphasized, gesturing to the body before him. "Is Henry, the father of the girl who was supposed to die tonight." He pulled out the same book, looking through it again. "Ah, here it is. Seems like something went wrong... He sacrificed himself for his daughter."

The blonde shrugged his shoulders, pulling the saw off of his shoulder. "Well, a soul's a soul. Let's just reap it and get out of here."

The brunette nodded solemnly and shut his book. "Alright, you know the drill." 

I watched, stuck in a state of pure terror, as the blonde haired-man swung the saw through my father's neck. Film reels began to flow out of it, floating around in the air. A few of them drifted into my direction, and as they came closer I noticed that they were playing something. I peered in closer, I had the feeling that I had witnessed something similar to this particular scene before. With trembling hands, I reached out to grab on. Upon contact with it, there was a flash of blinding light.

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