Hey! So, I have no idea where this is going, but we'll find out together. I've got enough inspiration to last a couple of chapters, and I don't think this will be that long since I'm moving kind of quickly through the plot, so hey, I might finish it! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy! Please review!

...

Ken Kaneki looked down at the body of 'Jason' with apathetic eyes. The other ghoul's blood bathed the floor around him, and the man was twisted and whimpering, but it wasn't enough. It couldn't satisfy him, he wanted the monster who had been torturing him for so long to be begging for mercy. Ken placed his foot on the man's back, noting absently that at some point his nails had changed color.

"What is 1000 minus 7?" Ken asked, pressing down. With hardly a thought, his kagune speared Yakumo's limbs to the ground. The man grunted in pain, but only looked up at Ken with hate filled eyes. That wouldn't do. He twisted his foot, and drilled his Kagune into the man's limbs further, removing one of his legs completely.

"What is 1000 minus 7?" He asked again dispassionately. He cracked one of his fingers in tension. A small voice whimpered below him.

"Louder. What is 1000 minus 7?"

"993! 986...979," Yakumo began counting down, his voice choking on blood. Still, Ken did not find enough pleasure. He felt cold and empty. Perhaps...yes, that could work, he thought to himself, reaching up towards his head. With a groan and a bit of pain, mild in comparison to the torture he had undergone recently, he forced his hand into his ear, breaking the side of his skull to be able to reach the red headed centipede buried in his inner ear. He pulled it out carefully to make sure it wasn't damaged. The moment Yakumo saw it he began to scream, begging for release.

Ken didn't care about the man's pathetic sobs as he set the centipede into Yakumo's ear, where it began burrowing. Ken finally allowed the sides of his lips to twitch upward, in a small sadistic smile as he listened to his tormentor's screams. He watched for a minute, before hearing a distant explosion. Ken frowned once more and turned towards the door to leave. Quite suddenly, he wanted to be gone, gone, gone from this place.

"You...can't..." A voice said. At the same moment, a hand gripped his ankle. Ken turned to look down at the dying man blankly. Without Ken's healing factor, the other man would not survive the centipede burrowing through his head.

"You...won't..." Yakumo said, looking up to meet Ken's eyes with a burning hatred driving him through the pain. His other hand pulled a small controller from his pocket weakly. Ken moved quickly, but Yakumo was faster as he pressed down. Suddenly, the floor beneath them dropped. A moment later, Ken found himself in a sea of red. He was surrounded by kagune, the vital organ of ghouls. The ceiling closed above him, but he could still see from the light of the glow of the organs. How were they still alive?

A drip landing on his nose answered him. He glanced up and saw the faint cracks of light through the floor. Blood would drip down here from the torture sessions, feeding the starving kagune enough to keep them going, even without a body. However, if they were still alive, then Ken might be in some danger. He glanced down to see the kagune around his feet had already begun to swell up, slowly moving to cover him and Yakumo's body was already almost halfway devoured by the monstrous pile. A slight stinging on the bottoms of his feet told him the kagune were already trying to absorb him.

Ken grit his teeth and leapt off the pile, but he only landed on another. He used his kagune to try and find an exit, or force one, but the entire place was reinforced. Kagune covered the walls, preventing him from simply breaking down the metal, and the ceiling was too far above him to be able to reach and still have enough power to break through it. He tried to find the remote to open the ceiling, but it seemed Yakumo got the last laugh as it had vanished beneath the slowly writhing red mass. Ken hated the man. He hadn't known it was possible to hate a person this much, but he felt like he was burning up from so much hatred. He just wanted the world to burn as recompense for what he had undergone.

"Agh!" He screamed, echoing his pain around the empty chamber; calling for help in a way he didn't even realize was happening. Dimensions away, a strange being beyond anything else spared Ken Kaneki a thought, changing his life forever.

'This is...a very strong, realized desire. He will never flower there, but maybe if he was elsewhere.'

A strange looking machine materialized in the midst of the kagune. Ken looked at it for a moment, approaching it. It looked rather like a large soup thermos, but with a door on the side just the right size for him to enter. Giving one last glance at the kagune that had been gnawing on his feet and the resulting blood trails, he decided he had nothing left to lose, and so stepped in. There was a sound, a whirring, and then silence. Ken blinked, that seemed easy enough. He opened the door and raised an arm to protect his eyes.

With a strange feeling of foreboding and hope, Ken stepped out of the machine and into the sunlight.

...

It had been two years since then. Ken had stepped out to find himself in another world, in a place where there were no ghouls, and in America, of all things. Luckily, he knew a fair bit of English from school, and he had improved drastically while living here. He had landed in California, and after heading to LA it wasn't that hard to find someone who could forge some paperwork for him. Furthermore, there were plenty of murders and suicides in LA, he just had to keep an eye open for witnesses when he was eating. The problem was made easier by getting a new mask, as well as a wig since his white hair stood out so much.

However, he had been struggling with finding work. He had been a college student, so he could fake high school papers, but the only local college that wouldn't check his background was a community college, and that still required money for a tuition. He had no history to get a loan, and he couldn't get a grant from the college without proof of his accomplishments from outside sources. So, in the end, he had to temporarily give up on getting his college degree and just settle for working.

"Just a muffin, please," the lady ordered. Ken nodded, and grabbed a muffin from behind the counter to hand to the customer.

"Anything else?" He asked. She shook her head. "That'll be 3.79, thank you," said Ken, ringing her up. As the woman left, Lisa, Ken's boss, came running out from the kitchen in a rush with her jacket on.

"Hey, Ken! I need you to close up shop! An emergency came up at home!" She said quickly, zipping up her coat.

"Alright!" Ken called back. A moment later, the door closed and Ken knew he was alone, sweeping up the shop. 'Lisa's Table' was nothing like Anteiku, there was much less camaraderie and such between the workers for one, but the boss was nice and the pay wasn't minimum wage, the patrons and such also ignored his odd coloring and his eye-patch. Ken could make a living for now, even if the feeling of loneliness gnawed at him from the inside. He missed his friends, and he hadn't been able to really strike up any friendships with anyone here.

"Sorry, we're closed," Ken said, hearing the door bell chime as the door opened.

"Ken Kaneki, you are under arrest," a voice said. Ken turned in shock, his eyes wide to see a large bald dark-skinned man staring him down with one eye. He was dressed in a long black trench coat, and entering the store behind him was a blond haired man holding a metal bow and arrow.'

"For what?" Ken asked carefully, taking a step back.

"The desecration of at least 22 corpses," the man said sharply. Ken's face slowly molded into apathy. How had the police of this world managed to track him, when the investigators of his own, specially trained in ghoul hunting, had not?

"I see," Ken said slowly. He angled his body slightly, preparing himself for a quick fight. He would probably have to head to another state. Did the state police communicate between each other? He couldn't remember.

"Now, I'm not here for a fight. Rather, I'm here to make you an offer," the man said. Ken blinked in confusion, was he fighting or not?

"An offer?" He asked.

"Yes. I am Director Nick Fury, and I have 50 of my best agents, armed with everything from pistols to snipers waiting outside the shop. You can either be forcefully arrested, or you can come along peacefully. If you do come peacefully, then we are willing to give you quite a bit of leeway in your sentencing."

"Why so many? I haven't killed anybody," Ken said, puzzled. Besides, it wasn't like guns could hurt him. Even if a bullet did manage to pierce his skin, he could heal it right away, so long as they didn't hit his kagune.

"Correct, another reason why we are willing to give you leeway. However, we have been watching you for about a year and a half now, and we have seen you make the same jumps as all the suicide victims you end up eating, yet you never end up dead. Furthermore, you have demonstrated some combat abilities at the cage matches downtown, haven't you? I suspect you are capable of even more than what we have actually seen," he explained. Ken frowned. It was true, though, that he hadn't used his kagune in almost two years. He hadn't needed it, and for a long time after coming here, using it hurt. A large part of that was the chemicals and such from his torture, and his forceful release of it so quickly after. Nonetheless, it put him in the habit of not using it, and without any other ghouls in the area to fight, he just hadn't needed to.

Ken saw the bow and arrow grimace a bit at the 'eating' part and felt himself bristle a bit. It wasn't his fault he had to eat people to survive! Fury continued without provocation, as if not noticing the interplay.

"Fortunately for you, this all lends itself to your case. We are willing to overlook your...habits, seeing as you've not killed anyone, in return for your cooperation on the Avenger's Initiative Project." Ken looked at him, confused.

"Avenger's Initiative?" He asked.

"A gathering of skilled or extremely talented individuals, who combined form Earth's last line of defense against anyone or anything that might threaten it. You agreeing to be a part of it would mean that if we need your help for a case, you come running," Fury explained. Ken thought over the words for a moment, puzzled.

"But in the meantime, you leave me alone?" He asked.

"Correct. Until the moment you kill someone, then we will come down on you with no mercy," Fury said, face hardening as he looked at Ken. Ken's eyes narrowed, he didn't need to kill for food, anyway, even if it would taste better fresh. Though he had accepted his ghoul side, there was still some human in him, and it didn't feel right.

"If I agree, you'll leave me alone? And my fighting style is very violent, would I be arrested?" Ken asked.

"Yes, as I already said. And I believe that I can trust you to gauge the situation correctly, your psychological profile indicates that you are generally a quiet and thoughtful person," said Fury. Ken couldn't help but think to himself that it was only his human half that was that way, when he allowed himself to eat and indulge his ghoul side, there was not as much thought involved. He had been working to fix that, but still. Anyway though, it sounded like a good deal. Too good of a deal. But he already knew the catch, he could be pulled away at any moment to fight a 'global threat', but how often did those occur? And why approach him now, and not a year ago if they had been watching him for that long? Yet, perhaps there were others like him, maybe not ghouls, but people who didn't quite fit in to the normal mold.

"Alright, I accept," Ken said carefully. Fury nodded.

"I'll hold you to that," he said, before turning. "Oh, and Kameki? Do try to avoid the local police. We won't be able to help you if you get caught by them, too much negative media attention." With that, Fury walked out of the small coffee shop. The bowman silently followed behind and Ken locked the front door behind them before resting his head lightly on the frame. Why did he have a feeling he would be called for soon? And avoid the local police? Did that mean that these guys were not local? Then, were they from a central base? Or an even larger organization?

Ken sighed, at least he had managed to get his freedom without bloodshed. It would have been a shame to kill them all, he probably would have ended up with a target on his back from law enforcement the world over. He finished sweeping up the shop and closed up. He kind of felt like getting something to eat.

…

"Regular black coffee please, no sugar or anything in it," the man said. Ken blinked, not sure if he was seeing him correctly. Tony Stark, ordering a coffee? Didn't he have a personal chef, or something like that?

"Ah, sure, that'll be $4.53," Ken said. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills, allowing Ken to ring him up quickly. Stark held out his hand for his change, and as he pocketed it, he casually spoke:

"And make it fast, Hannibal, I'm in a bit of a hurry today." Ken froze for a fraction of a second, before calmly meeting the smirking face of the billionaire.

"Of course, sir," he replied, turning to quickly fill the man's order. Bringing a coffee to the front once more, he handed it to Stark, who held it up to him in a gesture of thanks, before the man walked out of the shop. Just how many people knew about him?

…

It was a couple weeks later, when Ken was sitting in his apartment, that he saw the news. He casually put down the human arm he had been chewing on, a snack leftover from last night, and looked at the screen blankly. An image of a crater sat there, as the newscaster spoke.

"...no one is quite sure of what was researched there, but last night a secret government facility collapsed, killing hundreds of workers and burying whatever may have been inside. Officials have declined to give any comments regarding the situation." Ken watched the clips of people digging out the dead bodies, and absently wondered if he could head over there and get a small stockpile of food. Probably not, too much media attention.

Ken's ear twitched as he heard a vibrating sound. He glanced around as saw a small black cell phone sitting on his table, the screen lit up blue. It had arrived anonymously in the mail about two weeks prior, three guesses who it was from. He wondered if he could get away with ignoring it. Of course, if he was being called for a legitimate global threat, well, he could hardly leave humans to deal with it alone, could he? He reached over and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Kaneki, I need you to be ready to leave, now. An agent will be there within a couple minutes to pick you up." said Fury over the phone.

"Alright," Ken said, glancing at the arm. He could throw it in the freezer once the agent got there. He would have to change shirts though, this was the one he wore when he was eating to avoid staining his others. Fury sharply hung up the phone and, a second later, the doorbell rang. So much for a couple minutes. Ken sighed and went to the door, opening it carefully to see a balding middle-aged man standing there.

"Hello, you must be Ken Kaneki? I am Agent Coulson, here to take you to where the Avenger's are meeting up," the man said, holding out his hand. Ken blinked as he stared at the man blankly, the man hadn't even flinched at his blood covered appearance. Ken didn't take the offered hand, his own were covered in blood, but he did open the door further to let the man inside.

"Please wait a moment while I get changed," Ken said quietly as Coulson stepped into the small studio apartment. The agent eyed the bodiless arm sitting on the kitchen table, but no emotion flashed across his face. No disgust, no hate, and no curiosity. Ken picked up the arm and threw it into the freezer. He hated freezing things for long, the blood expanded and bruised the surrounding tissue, taking away a lot of the flavor. It probably wouldn't be much good by the time he got back.

With that, he grabbed a change of shirt from his drawer and stepped into the bathroom. An already dead arm not attached to a body didn't bleed that much, so he just needed to rinse his face and change his shirt. He dipped his hands into the water and scrubbed them to get the little bit of blood off, before bringing it up to his lips. He looked up at himself in the mirror, his sole eye and the eye-patch looking back at him. His white hair seemed to shine in the dim light, but he was glad to note that some of his black hair was starting to grow back. Though, now it looked like an odd dye job, because it wasn't growing back evenly. At least his nails had faded back to normal, he had gotten sick and tired of his black nails grabbing people's attention. He pulled off his blood stained hoodie and dropped it onto the floor, pulling on a clean black one over his his dark gray shirt. He glanced at his reflection and wondered whether he should bring his mask.

If he did, he would need to get a new one for eating, he had little doubt that he would get photographed while working with the Avengers. So far, not cops had seen him (as far as he knew), so he should be fine for using it for this. Masks were sold fairly commonly here, unlike back home where they were associated with ghouls. Ken reached up to his bathroom cabinet, opening it and pulling out the mask. He wore a wig while eating, so his unique hair shouldn't be that big of a deal. If he was going to fight something dangerous, the fear factor from the mask could be a benefit.

After looking at the mask for a moment, he reached up and tied it around his face, removing his eye-patch and allowing his other eye to see. With that, he stepped out of the bathroom and faced Coulson. The agent only raised an eyebrow at the addition of the mask, but he said nothing.

"I'm ready," said Ken.