London, present day; October the ninth, year 2016-

It was supposed to be a typical, ordinary day. Just like all the others that had stretched out seemingly endless before her as she wandered the dour streets in the pouring rain in a little bit of a daze. Trying to figure out just what it was about her that seemed to draw such fevered hatred from others that they always had to destroy the things she loved most. Her new favorite emerald green sweater dress was cut up and torn and stained with blood.

Hers. Her baby brother Jamie. Her three cats...

And of course the small group of people who had so senseless butchered them all just to hurt her.

She had some of their blood on her too from where she had attacked and killed- well at least two of the them. She was pretty sure that she had left the third in so much pain when she had left home to wander the streets that he wouldn't be moving anytime soon under his own power no matter how damn scared for his life he may be.

Not without the function of both of his arms and the leg that she had partially cut off with one of the mid evil axes her late father, a history professor, had liked to collect. And then there was the fact that she had ripped out one of the guy's eyes in retaliation for what he and his friends had done not just to her baby brother but to her cats.

In fact, she was pretty sure that she still had the damn thing in her hand.

Numbly glancing down at her fisted right hand, she opened it and blinked at the sky blue peeper looking back at her from her crimson stained palm and had to resist the sudden urge to double over and vomit until she tasted blood as her mind practically screamed.

This isn't right. Things weren't supposed to be this way!

And any other time, she probably would have been right. Her brother hadn't been meant to die at the age of three. Her cats were supposed to die in their sleep of old age.

Each happy and content with how things had played out in their lives.

After all, she had made the sacrifice for them the night her parents had died in the fire that had destroyed their ancestral family home just to attain that goal. So what changed? She wondered as she threw the eye down and started walking faster.

She needed to see something. Her childhood home. The home of the late Phantomhive clan and resting place of many of her tragic bloodline.

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Past-

December, 13 th.

The gala that was being held in honor of his return was in full swing as Ceil sat in a large red velvet and oak wing backed chair with Sebastian at his side, watching as the lords and ladies all spun around his large and wonderfully decorated ball room until he felt as though all the spinning and dancing would drive him mad with dizziness. And sighed.

Gods, he was bored.

Who knew that being so new to being a demon would cause such disinterest in the world around him? Closing his deep, deep blue eyes, carefully hidden under the jet black hair that he'd taken the time to grow out so that it was fashionably long- He desperately wished something exciting would happen.

Little did he know that he was about to get his wish...