Red. It was everywhere. As if the whole world was made of that colour.

Allen's colour.

Allen Walker was breathing heavily, his hair hanging over his face and covering his deep, grey eyes that had the thinnest golden ring around the pupils. His Innocence, Crown Clown, was activated, the white cape billowing around him and the mask sitting on his forehead, like a crown. His claws and the mask were stained by something red, just like the whole room around him: the floors, the walls the roof and even his white hair. He puckered his nose as he smelled the disgusting stench and with a disgusted look he quickly wiped his claw to the nearest cloth available that was the ragged uniform of his fallen comrade.

Allen then glanced at the bodies sprawled around him, an expression of twisted sadism appearing on his face when his breathing eased down and he deactivated his Innocence. He held no remorse of what he had done. They - Link, Lenalee, Timothy, Miranda and Crowley - had known what it meant to try and stop him from finishing his task. His orders were absolute and their vain attempt to stop him had lead to their demise. Allen scoffed at their stupidity and with his finger he touched the red liquid that was slowly running down his cheek. He tasted it and shuddered. It didn't taste any better than it smelled.

Timcanpy came out from behind a collapsed chair, where he had been hiding ever since Allen had lashed out and now it fluttered around Crowley's motionless form in an attempt to revive him, it seems. Allen looked at it, his sadistic smirk wavering and dissappearing to be replaced by the look of absolute horror as if he had just seen them properly.

"W-what..?" he stammered, his eyes wide. He looked at Timothy who was laying on the floor at his feet just as immobile as the rest of them while Timcanpy took its place on his master's shoulder, its wings downcast in a depressed manner. Allen reached out, about to touch the child's head but recoiled before he could do so. Instead, he took a few steps backwards, shaking his head as if he could make it all go away by doing that, make it all right.

"What have I done?"

"All..en?" came a sound so small that Allen nearly missed it, but only nearly. His head jerked to the direction of the voice to see Lenalee crawling on the floor, trying to reach him, but in vain. Soon she seemed to realise that she couldn't make it, so she stopped and turned her head up to look at him. Her violet eyes were watering and Allen knew she was doing all she could to hold back the tears. He hated himself for it, but he was glad that she did: he hated seeing her cry, especially because of him.

"R…run, A- Allen…"

Lenalee's hand reached out to him, begging him to take it. However, Allen was too horrified to make a sound, let alone move an inch. He could only watch her and how the red substance dripped onto the floor from her hand, making a small pool there that kept growing. The hand she was holding out to him was shaking and soon it fell down with a soft thud as her whole body went limb.

Red. It was the last thing Lenalee saw before she closed her now void eyes and she was dragged into blackness.

Red. Allen's colour. The color that now made his world and the color that he had begun to hate.

He was terrified.

"L-Lenalee?" he called tentatively. The girl didn't respond in any way, which meant that she was... No, he didn't want to think about it.

"Miranda? Crowley? Link?" he called, a bit louder now, begging them to answer him. "Timothy?" The smallest body moved slightly when his name was called but didn't make a sound. He hadn't been with the Black Order for more than a few weeks and now... He'd never...

Allen shook his head again, trying to dismiss the thought. Timcanpy hadn't moved from its spot on his shoulder, nor had it made a sound (not that it could make a lot of sounds anyway). It seemed to be just as scared as its master.

Maybe the Noah inside... awakened?

The thought made Allen's knees give out and he hid his face in his hands. He removed them instantly, however, when the strong scent filled his nostrils again, making him dizzy and his face contorted in disgust. No, the Noah couldn't have... He wouldn't do something this... this dreadful even under the 14th's influence.

His comrades... Timothy, Lenalee, Miranda, Crowley and even Link.

And... Jerry.

Allen jumped back to his feet and started looking around frantically, panic rising within him when he remembered the Black Order's head chef who should be coming back any minute now. If Jerry came back and saw this mess, he would relieve Allen of his entrails before Lavi'd have the time to yell "STRIKE!" and Lavi can yell that pretty damn fast if he wants to. Allen grabbed the nearest thing available - Link's jacket that he removed from said individual rather fiercely without a second thought - and started scrubbing the table next to him, trying to get rid of his colour.

"Help, Timcanpy!" he squeaked, although he knew the small golem couldn't help him a whole lot due to its size. It looked up at its master quizzically - at least that's how it looked, but it was hard to tell when the golem doesn't have eyes. "Jerry! If he comes back and sees this..."

Allen didn't need to finish his sentence, because the meaning could be read from his eyes that were open wide and from the fact that he could barely keep his panic from consuming him. Timcanpy knew that it was suicidal to mess up Jerry's kitchen and it quickly took a rag in its mouth and flew up to clean the roof above. The kitchen was his sanctuary and no one was supposed to enter the room when he was out enjoying his rare free moments. That's why he had placed Timothy and Crowley to guard the place while Lenalee and Miranda had been the reinforcements when Allen invaded the kitchen, in order to carry out his orders. Link was just unlucky.

"W-Walker," Link croaked suddenly, regaining consciousness and trying to sit up from his position on the floor. Everyone could tell that he was rather displeased with this situation. Allen aimed a kick to the back of his head to keep him passed out and hopefully making him lose his memory: the last thing he needed was Link informing Leverrier how he had made a mess in the kitchen with -...

His train of thought was pushed off track and blown up to smithereens with all the passengers still inside, when he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. He knew who it was the moment he heard that person humming a joyful tune as they walked and from the manner they walked; the footsteps were slightly bouncy, as if the person had springs on his feet. He also knew he wouldn't make it in time so he tossed away the jacket and looked around for a place to hide. He'd sneak out as soon as Jerry looked the other way, run all the way to Komui's office and then demand a mission far, far away that'd hopefully keep him occupied for the next year or so, until the whole Order would forget his existence. He'd live like his master, Cross, never setting foot to this place again. The perfect plan. At least that's what he kept telling himself in his distress, trying to keep himself at least relatively calm so that he wouldn't go around screaming bloody murder. Then again, that might be a good way to distract them and then run for it…

The white-haired exorcist spotted an empty cupboard and was halfway inside, when the door opened and foiled all his plans and hopes of getting out alive. He felt all colour escape his already too pale face and he was prepared to say goodbye to his beloved insides that would soon be violently ripped out and then forced even more violently down his throat. He heard the person walk inside, take a few steps so they could reach the light switch and then... there was silence as the lights flickered on, as if trying to give Allen the time to say his prayers. He took a deep breath, bracing himself up for what was to come while leaving the cupboard.

What have I done to deserve this?

Well, if we think about it, he had done a whole lot to deserve this... Lashing out at his friends with ketchup bottles and his Innocence, giving them concussions, for example... but this was just too much. Deep down, Allen was as innocent as one can be, only doing what he was told to do.

"Crowley? Timothy... Miranda and Lenalee, too?!" Jerry's voice came in sharp breaths as his eyes scanned the room, finally resting themselves upon Allen Walker who involuntarily let out a squeak, feeling the murderous intent suddenly emanating from the Black Order's top chef like flames. After he had stared at Allen for a few more seconds, his eyes trailed down to the floor where numerous empty ketchup bottles littered the ground. His tone was calm when he spoke again.

"Do you realise how long it took me to make all that ketchup…? How could you do this?"

This couldn't end well, Allen was sure of it, but now he had already accepted this inevitable fate. He just hoped he didn't have to smell that foul scent of dried ketchup in his last moments. If he survived, he'd make sure to keep away from the substance for some time.

His orders were absolute. He was to infiltrate the kitchen when Jerry was out, find and copy the secret recipe for his pudding and report back to the library. If someone stood in his way, he was to dispose of them, using aggression, if needed.

He had no regrets.

At least, that's what he told himself, anyway...

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes just as Jerry grabbed a meat club and took a step towards him. If it weren't for that fucking Lavi...

History purposes, my ass...

~The End?~

The idea came to me when I was trying to wash dried ketchup from my hands, and I just hate how that stuff smells. And I started wondering about the fourteenth and then about Jerry. How would he react, if someone totally messed up his kitchen?

Ah, Link. I just love him. xD Once you know that it's ketchup, you read the whole story in a completely different way.

Reviews are more than welcome! It doesn't take a lot of your time, depending on how long reviews you tend to write... I love long ones. xD They make me feel like I should write more.