So I just couldn't get this out of my head, so I had to get it out. Doesn't really have anything to do with Unhinged, or Broken, but does kinda show the beginning of everything. So, Yeah.

Blood, deep, crimson liquid splattered out and coated the woman as she stabbed, repeatedly, her victim, the prostitute's blonde hair dyed red as she gasped, gurgling and choking on the blood pouring from her throat. The woman knelt there, staring at the mutilated corpse of her former patient, a twisted satisfaction in her eyes. These women didn't appreciate what they still had, so she was going to take it from them. Carefully, she sat back, her blood-sticky hair clinging to her face. She heard a noise from behind her and turned, gazing up at the sky. At the top of the tallest building behind her was a blood-red reaper; long locks caught in the wind as it stared down at her before flashing a dangerous grin, full of monstrous, razor-sharp fangs. The reaper's face had a kind sympathy, however, and the musical, baritone voice soothed her.

"Hmm. How gaudy." It (he?) said, making Angelina try to see past the silhouette on the moon to what was actually holding onto the church's steeple-cross. "I've been watching you all this time. Thanks to you the number of deaths around here is stacked, making me busy. " He, for Angelina was fairly sure it was a he now that she could see him better, gave her a sad smile and leapt down onto the cobblestone road before her. "I understand how you feel. It's only natural to want such a woman to die." He walked forward, his red and black heels clicking on the cobblestones. Holding out his hand, he helped the woman up, pulling her into a tight embrace, that sad smile on his face. Angelina was shocked, but didn't move as the tall red reaper tucked her head in the crook of his neck and ran his fingers gently through her bloodied hair. He sighed, a forlorn, compassionate sound.

"I also want to have a child… But, since men suck, we are in the same boat." He turned his head, resting his forehead on Angelina's head. The redheaded woman squirmed and he backed away a bit, holding her shoulders and rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. The man smiled, his long teeth looking a bit unnerving but his kind eyes showed an immense amount of pain. It seemed endless as his acid green eyes caught her light brown, almost red ones. His blood coloured hair caught the light and vaguely, she wondered if it was natural or if it was enhanced because he was a god. His red glasses gleamed. "I shall lend you a hand." Angelina shivered, but whether it was from the cold or something else was unknown to her. The man gave her a small smile and removed his black jacket, draping it about her shoulders before lifting her, bridle style, in his arms and leaping across the rooftops. Angelina felt like she was flying.

"I've been rude, though. Here I cart you off without even introducing myself." The red reaper said, his voice soft. She noticed his eyes, despite the make-up (an odd thing, she thought, but it made the man look very attractive in his own way) were red-rimmed, like he had been crying not so long ago. It made her wonder about him. "My name is Grell Sutcliff. I'm a Shinigami. Or I was. I don't think I want to go back home for a while." He lapsed into silence, looking lost as he landed with a thump on the road again. Angelina was surprised to see that it was at her residence that they stopped. The Barnett Manor stood proud on the outskirts of London, not far from the hospital she worked at. Grell set her down, his long locks flying around him in the wind. Angelina couldn't help but appreciate his soft hair, gentle features and his eyes. Those acid-tone eyes held such a massive amount of pain. They held as much pain in them as she felt in her soul, she thought. Pulling her key out, she unlocked the door to the mostly empty manor. She didn't really have many people around anymore. The cleaning staff, her cook and gardener. She had fired her butler this morning after she had found out he had been one of those dirty prostitute's customers. Stepping inside, she beckoned Grell in. The reaper looked around, seeming to sense the emptiness. Angelina shut the large door behind her. It was dimly lit in the manor, mainly just from the staff needing the light to work. After a quick sweep of the place, Grell went around, starting to turn on the lights. Angelina had always counted herself lucky to be so close to the city, and have such an influential husband; it had lead to her having one of the few manors with the new technology of electrical lights. Grell seemed completely unsurprised by them and instead just walked farther in. Angelina had to admit to herself that despite his effeminatity, this man, Grell, was quite attractive. He seemed to feel her watching and glanced back at her, grinning. Angelina felt a burn start in her lower belly. This reaper was very dangerous, she could tell, but it just made a long gone fire burn anew. She hadn't been attracted to a man like this since that man.

"Baroness?" Grell asked. Apparently he had been trying to get her attention while her mind wandered off. "Baroness Barnett?" He asked again, loosening his tie as he studying the chandelier. Angelina stepped forward, feeling gross and sticky, and walked past the red reaper. She needed a bath. "Baroness?" Grell tried again, sounding annoyed. Angelina turned back to see him standing with his arms crossed and his hip cocked. The danger was pouring off him again and it did nothing to ease the burn in her belly.

"Please, if I may call you Grell, then you can call me Angelina. Or Anne, if you'd prefer." She said, trying to push her hair out of her face and grimacing. Grell sighed and walked forward, giving her a look that blatently said he thought she was hopeless. Taking his coat, he slung it over his arm as he plucked off his gloves. Angelina wasn't entirely shocked to see his nails painted ruby-red.

"Anne, then. I understand you must feel gross but I have to ask, where's your butler? Or maid? Shouldn't someone be drawing you a bath right about now?" He looked around, as if expecting someone to show up at any moment. Their heels clicked in and offbeat way that reminded Angelina of a failing heart. It was a little unnerving.

"I fired my butler this morning. He wasn't working to my standards." She said in a harsh voice. Grell looked over at her, making her feel vaguely like he was staring at her soul and sighed in a resigned way.

"Well, then I guess I'll have to do it. I doubt you know much about taking care of yourself. You nobles never do." He brushed past her before pausing, turning back and looking away. "Which way is your bathroom? You need to get that blood off you." He asked, looking around. Angelina quirked a smile at him before leading him down the hall to the large, luxurious bathroom. She was lucky enough to have running water and plumbing in her manor as well, and the large, porcelain tub looked quite inviting. She was quite confused to see Grell walk over to it, tossing his jacket in a heap on the floor, and start running the water. Angelina, not about to be coddled like a child, grabbed a bowl she normally used for when she was washing her face in the mornings and filled it from the running tap.

"I like my baths hotter than that. And I'm perfectly capable of doing this myself." She said, setting the bowl on the counter in front of her large mirror and grabbing a pair of scissors. She pulled her hair out of her bun and shook it down, causing blood to splatter everywhere. Grell made an odd noise from behind her.

"Are you defying me, Anne?" He asked, his face unreadable from the glare on his glasses. Angelina huffed.

"So what if I am? I am Baroness Angelina Barnett-Durless and I deserve everyone's respect!" Angelina said forcefully, examining her long locks. Carefully, she started snipping at them, needing a change. Everything had to change now. It would be a miracle if she didn't get caught for the murder. This man found her easily enough. From behind her, Grell clicked his tongue, watching her as he ran the steaming water over his hand. It was hot enough that his skin was steaming and pink when he pulled it away. Clipping at her hair faster, Angelina finally stopped, satisfied, when it was a short, angled bob.

"It's been a long time since I met a woman that had such pride in herself." Grell said, his eyes losing their pain briefly as he watched her. She gave him a confused look, seeing that the water was off and the bathtub was full. Grell reclined again the wall next to the tub, his long and lean body stretching out. It was not helping Angelina's case of attraction. She couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. Maybe it just had been long enough for her to need a good romp but she was fairly certain this man could kill her with his pinkie finger. So why him? He flashed that deadly grin again and she almost melted. Maybe it was because of all those things. Maybe it was because he reminded her so much of herself in his proud ways. Camaraderie. Maybe…

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to get in before the water is cold?" He asked, rolling up his sleeves. It was then she realized what he intended. And it was unacceptable.

"I'm doing this by myself, thank you!" She yelled at him, shoving the tall man out of the door. He grinned at her, amused, and gave her that same unreadable expression.

"Suit yourself. I'll wait out here for you then." Grell said looking down at those perfectly polished ruby nails of his. He glanced back at her from over his frames and she saw, with a quickening of her heartbeat and a fan to the flame burning in her belly, his eyes dilate in a way that had nothing to do with the surrounding darkness. "Just call my name if you change your mind." A quick grin and he stalked away, looking like he owned the world. Angelina couldn't help but look down before he turned and truly felt flattered even as her arousal rose to an almost unbearable level. His tight pants were a dead give-away to his own state and she smirked to herself. Who else but she could possibly claim that they had managed to arouse a god, of all things. Shutting the door, she stripped herself down and slid into the hot, relaxing, eagerly awaited bath.

Thirty minutes later Angelina found herself in her room, her hair still slightly damp from only being toweled dry and brushing her new, short locks, admiring them. She had seen neither hide nor hair of Grell Sutcliff since she got out and wondered if maybe he was just a figment of her imagination. Except his black coat was still there. She paused, thinking about what he said. Just call his name? Would that work? She shrugged. Might as well find out. She leaned back, looking at the door, and called out.

"Grell?" Her voice was loud and was met by silence. Wondering if maybe it could be heard from her door but not through it, she turned in her seat, away from her vanity and intending to stand up, only to be startled by the red reaper standing silently behind her.

"I apologize. I was admiring your beautiful red hair." He said, striding forward. She noticed his boots were off and over by the door. Even without them he still towered over her. He reached out, using his left hand, and ran his ruby-tipped fingers through her short locks, those acid-toned eyes meeting hers. They were dilated as full as they would go, so only a hint of the acidic green was left. The fire in her belly lit again as he dropped gracefully to his knees in front of her, brushing the end of her nightdress with his hands before looking up. He was waiting for her protest, and she knew she should, but couldn't bring herself to. Instead she made an impatient noise and shifted so her legs were crossed loosely, more of them showing. It was scandalous to show so much leg to a man, but she didn't care. She needed this. Needed him. Needed this man because he understood her.

Camaraderie.

It was the only invite he needed.

Slowly, Grell's hands traced up her legs, feeling the smooth skin of them and pushing up the white nightdress on the way, reveling in the warmth of it. Gently, he slid his hands up and separated her legs, lowering his head to nuzzle the soft skin there. It was so alien to her, this otherworldly man with his blood red hair and glasses. It made every inch of her skin feel like it was on fire. How long had it been since a man had treated her like this? Never. She had never felt this way, not with her husband. He had been too tame. This man, Grell… He was wild. Her blood pounded in her veins as he pushed her clothing up so it bunched around her waist. She could feel herself dampening even though he'd barely touched her. His hands ghosted across her panties and she moaned, earning a grin from the red reaper.

Angelina gasped in surprise when he pulled her forward, so she was almost off her chair, causing Grell to be nestled in between her legs as he pulled her panties down. She flushed a deep red, causing Grell's grin to widen. It made her feel inexperienced in a way she knew she was not. The red reaper caressed her thighs and nibbled, gently, at her inner thighs, which shocked Angelina. She hadn't thought he was capable of such gentle nips with those frightening fangs. She sighed. It had been too long since anyone treated her so well. Grell hummed, his hands going up to shove the nightdress off her completely. Angelina tossed it to the side, letting it puddle on the floor as she sat in the nude in front of this unearthly man. Gasping, she grasped his blood red locks as he slowly, teasingly ran his fingers along her core, seeming to be fascinated in at the whole thing. She twitched when he brushed her clit and mischievously, he rubbed, making her squirm. Angelina gave him a fierce look and he chuckled, untwining her hands from his hair and pulling off his crimson glasses, handing them to her. Understanding, she placed them on the vanity. He didn't want them to get broken. She gasped sharply again as he tweaked her sensitive nub in a way that was driving her mad. She nearly came as she felt him plunge three of his fingers into her, still rolling her sensitive nub and started moving them. If she didn't know any better, she would swear he was making sure she was able to handle him. She glanced down at him, catching his unfocused gaze as he shrugged, removing himself from her and sitting up, licking his lips in anticipation.

"Force of habit." He muttered, before grabbing her by the waist and tossing her onto her bed. She bounced, amazed that such a slight man could throw her so easily. Gracefully, Grell stalked forward, loosening his tie further before pulling it up and over his head, carelessly tossing it in the general direction of the vanity before moving onto his vest. He had it unbuttoned and slung to the side in the three strides it took him to make it to her bed. Angelina couldn't take her eyes off him as he climbed onto her bed, bent over her, capturing her lips possessively. His right arm twined around her waist, bringing her body up to meet his, while his left supported him, bracing him as he stroked her face. Her hands went to his red hair again as he explored her mouth, those razor fangs so close, every time she swiped across them with her tongue she shivered. He could tear her throat out if he wanted.

And she loved it.

Deftly, her nimble, surgeon's fingers danced across the front of his white dress shirt, undoing the buttons in a heartbeat as she felt the hand not holding her waist travel down her body and cup her breast, kneading it softly, flicking the nipple making her squirm. He grinned around the kiss and broke it to gasp himself as her hands travelled down his body and finally slid under the waistband of his pants. She had undone his belt while he wasn't paying attention and had them unbuttoned and unzipped, her small hands brushing his erection unabashedly. Gazing up again, those acidic eyes fully dilated, he met hers and without hesitation brought his lips to her neck, biting hard enough to pierce the skin. Even though she knew it should have hurt, it felt amazing and Angelina gasped, digging her nails into Grell's lower back.

"Oh god!" She cried out as he licked at the sore spot, planting feather light kisses on her neck and breasts as his hands left her body. He rose away completely and Angelina stared at him, sliding his pants off before settling back in between her legs. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she halted him, briefly, just drinking in the beauty of his body. All of it was lean muscle, beautiful alabaster white and perfectly sculpted without being bulky. She had never seen such a thing before. Most noble men were pudgy, even the fitter ones. Even her husband had a belly to him. But there was no body fat to be had on Grell, only muscle. It made her mouth water and her arousal to spike. She needed him. Now.

"Please…" It was the only thing she could manage but it was enough. Grell grinned, flashing those oh so sharp fangs of his and grasped her hips again, holding her up by her thighs as he entered her. Her hands were on his as he did, tantalizingly slow, his head thrown back in pleasure, causing his long hair to brush against her legs and pool on the bed, glimmering. His whole body was giving off an ethereal glow and Angelina was amazed by it. Angelina had never felt so full before, her blood was pounding. She had never seen a man with Grell's proportions and she knew in that moment, that size really did matter. For all his lanky muscle, there was nothing lanky about his member, thick, long and wonderful as he moved carefully within her. There was a deep flush to his face as he leaned back down, shifting his angle before plunging back into her and catching her lips again. It was slow, languorous and amazing. But Angelina needed more. Arching her back off the bed to meet his trust, she moaned into the kiss. She felt Grell smirk and immediately, his pace picked up, going from careful to forceful. He was gripping her hips with enough force to bruise her, but she didn't care. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she met him with each thrust.

Grell's long red hair was drawn about them like a curtain, blocking out the rest of the world as he nuzzled his face into her neck, kissing and sucking at the delicate skin there as Angelina dragged her nails down his back again and again, making the red reaper moan in pleasure. Harder and harder he thrust into her, in an almost violent pace, the red headed woman practically screaming at the tops of her lungs. She was so close… But she couldn't, not yet. She could feel the tightening in her body and knew she was almost there. Biting down on Grell's shoulder to silence herself, she heard the reaper gasp and moan, his pace becoming erratic. She knew he was near his end too, and she dug her nails into his flesh, so hard that blood beaded out from under them and ran down his sides. Gasping again, he pulled her body closer to him, thrusting at a new angle as he did so. Angelina felt pleasure like she never had before as he thrust, and in waves her climax came crashing down on her, unbelievably intense, building still as Grell thrust, releasing finally with a long, low moan. Riding out the climax, Grell slowed sporadically, Angelina feeling his own pulse pounding beside her own. Shaking, the red reaper fell onto her, his breathing heavy. Angelina didn't have the energy to move him, her body still pulsing in post-coital bliss and her mind completely empty outside of the pleasure. Slowly, their pulses and breathing settled and Angelina pushed at Grell lightly to get him to move. The reaper did, pulling out and laying next to her before pulling her close. His hazy green eyes met hers and he tried to quirk a grin, only achieving a very satisfied smirk instead. The red reaper threw Angelina's blankets around them, cocooning her in soothing warmth.

It was bright when Angelina woke the next morning, blinking in confusion before sitting up, running her hands through her short, tangled hair. Vaguely she wondered if the whole night had been a dream until she realized there was someone sitting at her vanity. At first she thought it was an intruder, before she realized, with a flash of razor-sharp fangs, that it was Grell. He looked different now though. His hair was long and straight, cascading down his back, now a soft, chocolate-brown. His eyes were still acid green though, but minus the make-up. As she watched him, he leaned forward and opened his mouth, carefully probing his teeth with his fingers. She was startled to see that they were shrinking and becoming normal looking.

"Grell? What're you doing?" She asked, making the reaper jump and slice open one of his fingers on his fangs. Swearing in an odd way, he stuck his bleeding finger in his mouth and glanced over at her.

"God—ow, son of a—fuck! Anne!" He gave her an exasperated sigh, pulling his finger out and inspecting the sealing wound. Getting up, Angelina threw her robe around herself and walked over to her vanity. Grell buttoned up his vest, leaving his suit jacket off and put on a pair of white gloves before inspecting himself in the mirror. "I look so plain. It's perfect." He said with a timid smile. Settling a pair of plain, round-framed glasses and a link chain on, he reached for his tie, only to be stopped by Angelina. Reaching into the vanity, she pulled out a large, red ribbon, tying his brown, silky hair back with it, and then grabbing another ribbon, this one small and striped red and white, tying it around his neck in place of the tie.

"So why is it perfect?" She asked, pulling a few thin sections of hair from the ponytail to hang in his face. He gave that same, timid smile, and stood, shorter than she was used to. It was then she noticed he was wearing plain, black work shoes.

"Well, I can't be walking around like I normally am. My beauty draws too much attention. So I made this up." He took her hand and lightly kissed the top. "Grell Sutcliff. I'm your new butler." He flashed a strange version of his normal smile and Angelina grinned.

"Baroness and Doctor, Angelina Barnett-Durless. You can call me Madame Red." She said. Grell nodded, looking out the window.

"We're going to kill all of them, my sweet Madame." Grell said. Madame Red nodded.

"All of them." She smiled.

Camaraderie.

Please, read and review!

Much love.

-Pk