a/n: This chapter takes place right when Alois is first introduced in the first episode of Kuroshitsuji 2. It is written from Alois' POV, and might be ooc simply because this is an angst fic, and there aren't that many angst scenes of Alois to go by. Chapter 2 takes place in episode 8 of Kuro2, right when Claude does his bastardly deed.

…And I'm attempting to write this at 1 am. Insomnia, FML. Anyways, please please please, REVIEW! I've had a really shitty last few days and I could appreciate some positive comments…^_^'

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"Alois, the Master would like to see you right away." The maid, Brigette, informs me subserviently as she steps into the room. I nod my acceptance.

"Thank you, Brigette. You may go now." I reply. She curtseys slightly and scurries from the room. I may not be even true part of the Trancy household, but every one of the servants knows that the Lord Trancy has…how do they say… 'taken a liking' to me. He told them all to treat me as if I were his own son, therefore giving me quite a bit of respect.

Hm. Ironic that the only one I don't receive that respect from is him, ne?

Honestly, I wish he'd go eat shit and die. I'd rather sell my soul to the devil than stay here with him in this godforsaken mansion one more day. I wish it was just me and Luka, taking care of each other, just like it used to be before the fire. I don't want to cater to some lecherous pedophile's whims any longer! But…I have no choice…

The once brilliant, now tattered red kimono hangs limply just inside my wardrobe door, yet another tear from his greedy hands having been mended by the maid. It once had a sort of alluring beauty, and there were times when I wore it that I didn't feel quite so unclean. I almost felt…pretty. It's scarlet red set off the blue of my eyes and made my skin look porcelain perfect. I studied my reflection in the mirror of the vanity as I stripped naked and slipped on the garment. The silk was cool to the touch, yet somehow felt like fire as it brushed against me. I don't want to go, not now. Not so willingly. Not into the arms of a man who longs only to desecrate my being.

Not to mention that his most favored horse had died today after slipping in mud while he had been riding her, hunting rabbits. He was bound to be in a foul mood. I had never seen him in a temper, and I was in no hurry…

But the later I am, the worse he will be. I run a brush through my hair and pose in front of the mirror, plastering my most seductive, dazzling smile onto my face. I look positively enthralling.

Yes, I truly am a first rate actress, if I do say so myself. It almost looks like I want what he has in store for me.

I steal silently out into the cold hallway, my bare feet against the icy onyx tiles. It is dark, lit only by candles every few feet, and I am almost glad. I don't want to be seen. Everyone knows what kind of man Trancy is…but I am in no hurry to prove it. I'd rather remain unseen. Within minutes I have made it up the stairs and to the polished oak door that leads to Trancy's chamber. I hesitate, but only for a moment, swallowing my fear. I push the door open slowly, making sure to expose myself as I know he loves. Kimono open all the way up my leg…tied loosely…draping off one shoulder. I keep my poise submissive, never once looking him in the eye.

He himself is already in his underclothes, his disgusting mouth curled into a voyeuristic smile. However, this time there is a sense of unease about him, and I notice with a heart sickening lurch that he has a bundle of rope grasped in his hand. No…not this…I had expected him to be rougher than usual, but…this?

His rough, age-worn hand closes tightly around my wrist, dragging me towards him. I know better than to cry out. The slight pain of my wrist bones mashing together is nothing compared to the sickening pain that I know is to come. I have to act like I like this. I have to…I have to…otherwise, I'll be punished. I close my eyes as he wrenches my face up, pressing his clammy, squishy lips to mine, shoving his worm-like tongue into my mouth. In some ways, this is worse than the sex, these false shows of affection. It takes everything in me to make my tongue move, to coil it with his own. I press myself against him, even letting slip a little moan, hoping it'll make him go easy on me. My theory is proved wrong when he grabs my wrists and binds them tightly together behind my back, then breaks the kiss, forcing me to my knees. Apparently the one kiss was enough to make him aroused because his erection is obvious. I lean towards him and pull his pants down with my teeth. I consider going slowly, teasing him a bit as he tends to like sometimes, but before I can, he's forced his weeping member past my lips and down my throat. I gasp unwillingly, unable to get a breath around his width, feeling him stretch my throat and esophagus much wider than they'd like to be. Tears sting my eyes, and I swallow, less from trying to be good and more to keep from sobbing. He grabs my hair and pulls me forward, thrusting his hips, pushing himself farther down.

"Getta move on." I hear him mutter, and I force my body to respond. Lick around the base. Swallow. Suck. Swallow. Lick. It is only when I feel his precum sliding down into my lungs and stomach that he pulls out. My vision is spotty from air loss and I cough and gag, retching. He pushes me down, and with my hands tied I am unable to prevent my face from meeting the Persian rug. He grabs my hips and spreads my legs wide, farther apart than they want to go. He doesn't even prepare me, but thrusts in, all the way in one go. By this time, tears pour from my eyes, and I sob and scream and keen from the pain. My voice is hoarse from his damage but I cant hear it, my brain blinded by the splitting, maddening, mind shattering agony as he pounds into me, farther and deeper and harder and faster than ever before. My face is scraped by the coarse carpet, and I can almost feel him rearranging my insides. Blood streams down my legs and with a twisting, roiling feeling in my gut, he thrusts deeper, and pain wracks my body. I vomit violently, choking and gasping. I feel utterly fragile, utterly broken…somehow, through everything, I feel my heart sink into despair. He comes deep, deep inside, but by then I can do nothing more than go limp, my breathing ragged, my eyes glazed over. He pulls out with a grunt, picks me up and tosses me up onto the bed where I land in a twisted position on my side. He walks into the adjacent bathroom, and I hear water begin to run.

My heart hurts, down in my soul.

I wish he would die. I wish he would die, die, die, and suffer a thousand, no, a million fiery hells. I wish…I wish I was free.

Surely if there was a god, he would save me? I have asked, so many times, why hasn't he answered? Is it possible that my soul is so damaged that even a merciful god will not love me?

If god won't answer, who will?

Who will love me enough to free me, love me enough to do only what I want, with no regard to their own desires? Does such a soul exist?

What is your desire, your Highness?

A familiar voice rings clear in my head. The clear, soothing voice of the spirit I met in the woods.

Do you desire me?

Who is this creature? A fairy? An angel? A devil?

I will do your every command…all I wish in return is your soul.

'I'd rather sell my soul to the devil'. That is what I said earlier…

And I meant it. I meant it with every fragment of my being. I'm sick of this pain, I'm sick of this defecation. Every throb of my broken body only heightens my resolution.

Eventually, the old man comes to bed and unties my wrists, having had his fill of me for tonight. He sleeps soundly without a care in the world, as if he were the most pious man alive. Slowly, the sun rises, and I summon the strength to stand. It hurts…oh god, it hurts…but yet, I stand, and walk to the window. The voice echoes in my head.

Do you desire me?

With more resolute certainty than ever before in my life, I yell to the heavens.

"I desire you!"

And so, accompanied by a golden eyed butler, I proceeded to slay the man who would call himself my master with my own two hands, smiting his tainted blood across the walls.

That day, I regained my will to smile.