Darkness. An endless void, surrounding him. He was walking, he was sure of it. His legs were moving and he could swear he felt the friction against the floor. Or rather, what he thought was the floor. It was as if his eyes were closed, this darkness, never ending and silent… It was eerie, and he found it frightening, though the boy was far too proud to openly admit it to anyone, including himself.

"Hello?" The boy called out hesitantly, unsure what he was more scared of; being answered or not.

The boy was answered only by the echo of his own voice, which calmed him slightly, but he was still unsettled.

From his left he began to hear footsteps and his small body tensed. A single light turned on, showing a figure that made the boy's body tense in fear, and his small frame begin to shake. The figure in the light raised its head, a smirk, one particular to this character in its specificity, as such cruelty and such calm is not a mix found often in people. Then again, this character was not a person per say, as with the word 'person' one pictures a human.

This character was by no means human.

It was an angel. The one who went by "Ash" as it tortured the boy. Restrained him by his fragile limbs, chaining them individually to the wall, back exposed, old scabs and wounds reopening as he squirmed, fearful of the torture he was about to endure.

One. One quick lash across his back. A sharp cry would escape his lips and his small fists would clench as he fought back more screams of pain.

Two. Two more quickly followed. The angel would speak in a calm tone, as if carrying on a conversation that was strictly business. "Don't move." The boy knew this of course, as it was the same routine. Every day it was the same. Ever since the boy was ten and his house was burned to the ground, after which he was stolen away by the angel.

Three. Three questions, the same questions he was asked every day. Though if you were to ask the boy to repeat them, he would not be able to. After so many years he quit listening, and would just scream that he didn't know, and beg for the pain to stop.

Now the angel did not lose control often. In fact, the one time the boy could remember was ten days after he had arrived. After what seemed like hours of endless punishment, the angel finally snapped. The boy remembered that the angel had gotten really quiet and whispered menacingly in the boys ear. "This is your last chance, What-" the angel would have asked the questions for the one thousandth time if the boy hadn't broke down and screamed that he didn't know.

The angel undid his chains, and the boy had believed he was done. As the boy had let out a sigh of relief he felt a strong grip on his shoulder before his back was slammed against the wall. The raw flesh seared with pain at the rough treatment and a sharp scream ripped itself from the boys equally raw throat.

"So you don't know?" The angel laughed. Not a normal laugh, not a laugh as if something struck him as entertaining, but the laugh of a madman. "Well then, perhaps you need more convincing… Then maybe you'll know…" The angel was sounding more insane by the word as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a knife, the boy shook in fear.

The angel slowly dragged the knife along the boy's porcelain skin, which had elicited fearful whimpers from the boy.

"Scared?" the angel had asked him with a smirk. The boy needed not respond though, as the angel let out another sadistic laugh. "Good."

Pain. Red. Searing pain and vision painted red. That's what the boy remembered. He remembered screaming while his raw throat burned in protest as he writhed on the ground; hand over his eye as he slowly bled out.

Next he remembered waking up with a bandage over one of his eyes. This was odd, as he was never bandaged after torture. The wounds on his back had still been raw, and he took the bandages over his eye as a sort of apology from the angel from losing control. The boy could not have cared less about apologies; he just wanted to never be put through that ever again. And he wasn't. But the other form of torture was almost worse.

This angel also went by "Angela", but it was a different kind of torture the angel inflicted then. He traded whips and chains for red lips and soft whispers. "Angela", with her light and curious fingertips, soft and supple breasts that she would press against the small boys frame as she whispered in his ear. She would run her hands all over the boy's naked body, and she would toy with the boy's form in ways his young mind did not understand. Her hand wrapping around his most private parts, stroking and rubbing. It did not make sense to him then. He only understood that it felt… good. Blissful and nearly euphoric. But at the same time he knew it was wrong and fought it at every turn, but "Angela" always won. Smirking and whispering as the boy panted, lying spent on the table, wincing as his squirming reopened his wounds that had barely begun to heal.

That was the figure who stood in front of the boy, in the form of "Ash". The boy shook in fear as the angel neared, the angels fingers, long and pale, reaching out to stroke the boy's face.

"My Ciel…" the angel purred, switching into its female form. "My darling little Ciel… I'll find you. I promise I will. You've been hiding for a while, but I'm so close to finding you. So, so close, and you haven't the slightest idea.."

The angel smirking and let out a laugh as Ciel squirmed. The angel made him uncomfortable. He was finally happy, and there the angel stood, standing directly in front of him, saying that it was close to finding him. Tears formed in the proud boy's good eye, the startling blue beginning to become clouded by tears. He began to tremble and shake his head no. "No.. N-no…" he muttered to himself. "No!"

Ciel awoke with a gasp. His chest heaved as his small frame shook, sweat gluing his navy locks to his forehead and soaking his sheets. He'd been having these nightmares for over a week now, but he couldn't put a finger on why.

"Are you alright?" a women dressed completely in red wiped his face with a damp washcloth. Ciel took it in his own hand and wiped the rest of the sweat off of his face. He sat up and nodded and took a look around his small room.

Oh yea. That was why.

Today was Ciel's eighteenth birthday. The day he officially aged out of the orphanage. The day he had to move. All of his things were packed and were in a box against the wall. He had been dreading this day for five years, and here it was.

The woman in red sighed. "I know you're scared. But you're set to live in a nice apartment just outside of the big city. We pay for it for three months and give you monthly money for groceries, you'll be alright." She pushed back his dark locks and kissed his forehead gently. "I'll call you to check on you, and you can always call me if you need anything." Ciel frowned and grabbed his eye patch from the bedside table and tied it.

"I appreciate that." He finally spoke. "But for now, I just want to be left alone while I move things in. I promise, I will call you before the week is out." Ciel felt somewhat guilty. The woman was so kind, and he really did car about her. Years ago an accident rendered her unable to bear children and without a husband. Since then, she had dedicated her life to helping young orphans like Ciel had been find homes and grow up as normally as they could.

Ciel knew that she felt guilty. She did favor Ciel more than the other children, but she couldn't help it. Most of the kids that were brought in were no older than ten years old, and Ciel was already a teenager when he was brought in, already significantly older than the others. On top of that, Ciel was damaged. His body was covered in scars, his eye only adding to the horrific sight that was the poor boy's body. Ciel's mind was comparable to his body in fact that it was mangled beyond repair. It was obvious in the way he spoke, the way he flinched at loud noises and at touch. Ciel was unadoptable and the woman saw that and took him under her wing, raising him as her own, more so than the other orphans. Ciel appreciated it. But she simply couldn't keep him with her anymore. There were other children that needed her help, and as much as Ciel hated it, he understood.

Ciel sighed and stood as he grabbed the clothes he had laid out for today. He watched the woman leave and close the door behind her and he tossed his blanket over his mirror. He couldn't stand the sight of his naked body, so avoided it whenever he could. He pulled on a simple pair of blue jeans and shrugged into a blue tee before pulling on his black jacket. With a shaky sigh he grabbed the box which held all of his personal belongings and stepped outside of the room.

A banner stretched across the front room that read "Good Luck Ciel" written in watercolor and crayon. He couldn't help but smile. The kids were a pain in his ass, but he would miss them immensely. A soft voice spoke up and his attention was drawn downward, his good eye meeting deep brown eyes full of worry. Annie.

"Do you really have to go CeeCee?" she asked shyly. A timid little thing. 6 years old, had been in the orphanage since she was a baby and had known and loved Ciel all of her life. She would have been swept away and adopted early if it weren't for the long scar that ran across her face. She deserved a life better than this, a life better than the one Ciel had. One with two loving parents and a family pet, getting anything her little heart desired. But every parent wants the perfect child, and fantasies are superficial. Ciel picked her up and held her in his arms and sighed.

"Yes, and im so sorry.." He hugged her tight and held her close. "But you can mail me okay? Draw me more pictures and send them to me. I'd like that." Ciel smiled as the girl's face lit up. She loved to draw, especially for Ciel. "I will hang them up in my house. And you may be able to visit sometime." His smile dropped as he knew that the last part was unlikely, but the thought of separating from Annie completely was too much to handle, especially this soon. Annie smiled and nodded as they sat and enjoyed their breakfast. Pancakes. One of Ciel's favorites.

The goodbyes were heartbreaking and after that he was on his own. He drove to his new apartment and set his stuff down and looked around with a shaky sigh. This place felt odd. This was where he was going to be living, alone. This place was his to share with no one. He had been with others his entire life, feeling alone but never truly alone. But it was different this time. He felt alone and was truly on his own.

The thought of it made him sick. He stayed in the apartment for the day and part of the night. Then it hit him. The apartment was nowhere near where he needed to be right then. So, he did the logical thing. He left.

The city wasn't that far away, and in the darkness it shined from miles away. He drove blindly, not really seeing, simply allowing himself to be driven by instinct. After miles and miles he wound up at the edge of the city and pulled into the parking lot of a place he did not see the name of. He didn't care. He just marched right in.

The stench of booze, sweat, and desperation hit him fast and hard. The music hit him second. The bass was turned up so loud that the melody was drowned out, leaving only the pulsating beat that seemed to drive the club. Scantily clad women adorned the stage, tight corsets and short shorts left nothing to the imagination. Ciel frowned and made his way to the bar where he was greeted by a rugged blonde man.

"Wanna drink? What'll ya have?" the man spoke like he'd had more than a few himself. Ciel frowned. "I'm eighteen." The bartender smirked and took a long drag on his cigarette. "Who cares?" Ciel rolled his eyes. This place was sleazy and just standing there made him feel like he needed a serious shower. He sighed. "Look. I'm just gonna sit here. I don't want a drink."

"Sure you don't." the bartender poured him a shot and turned his back. "Just take it kid, I wasn't watching I swear." Ciel frowned. "May I see your manager?" The bartender grunted and called. "Hey Finny!" On queue a perky blonde male ran over from beside the stage. "Yea Bard?" The bartender, apparently named Bard, spoke again. "Go get Sebastian. And hurry. He won't be happy if you catch him with his pants down. Literally. I haven't seen any dancers head back yet." The perky blonde, Finny, nodded and darted off.

He returned with a man that made Ciel's heart stop. Ever since his experience with the angel, sex had been all but destroyed for him. Though this man changed everything. With jet black hair, crimson eyes, muscles and impressive height, Something stirred in him that he had never felt before. And Ciel liked it.

Upon closer inspection, the man was irritated. "What?" he snapped at Bard. Bard responded with a nod towards Ciel. "He wanted to talk to ya. I don't know what his problem is." The tall man, Sebastian, looked over Ciel. "How old are you?" he asked. Ciel responded "Eighteen. And your bartender-" "Are you employed?" Sebastian interrupted as he looked Ciel over. "no, but-" Again Ciel was cut off by Sebastian. "Stand and turn three sixty for me." Ciel did as commanded. "I don't under-" "You're hired." Sebastian interrupted him for the last time and Ciel looked up at him.

"What?" Ciel asked, completely confused. "You start tomorrow." Sebastian said with a smirk. "Be here at eight. Now excuse me, I'm going to find someone to fuck." Ciel sat with his mouth agape and Sebastian wrapped him arm around a girl and with a few words was leading her back to his office. Ciel felt a strong hand pat his back and looked up to see Bard smirking as he put out his cigarette.

"Welcome to the Demon's Lair."

AN: I can't believe I finished it ^_^ I have been working on this for a while now, and I think I'm ready to share it with the world. Would it be selfish to ask for 15 reviews before an update..? I don't know. First fanfiction on this site, good reviews and constructive criticism are all welcome, though I can't promise that I'll agree. Please review