A/N: I have returned with another story for you guys that I've been wanting to write! The title for this one is just a pun I made up in my spare time. :3 (It's not going to actually be his name though, haha) I'll try to keep the author's notes short throughout this story, since I know how annoying they can get. *-*

Summary: This story is based in London, England, but it's an AU (Alternate Universe) so the relationships/events in the anime/manga are nonexistent in here. The time period is set in the 21st century, and as for everything else, well you'll just have to read on to find out more, won't you? ;)

P.S.: This story will eventually contain light fluffy yaoi, so if you don't approve, then I suggest turning around and baking some cake or something instead. Oki. c:

Warnings: Mild language and abuse.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji.

End Note: The point of view will be told from Ciel, unless stated otherwise.

Chapter 1

I hate Friday.

Every Friday, people start to gather for social events or cluster together for some form of entertainment outside. I would rather remain alone with my friends, Peace and Quiet, but every Friday they leave me.

Since Friday is only one day out of a week of seven, I should be able to tolerate it. But, I can't. It's not as if I choose to dislike people, it's the fact that my past has left me with a negative outlook on people.

I hate mornings.

Everyday I wake up from my sleep, I dread opening my eyes. The sunlight that shines into my eyes isn't comforting in the least. The only reason I force myself to open my eyes and suffer through the day, is to see Nightfall once again. She's such a beautiful sight to see after a loathsome day of sunshine. Once she fades into pure blackness, I can finally see my friends again; Peace and Quiet. Oh well, I suppose it can't be helped.

I hate humans.

If I have learned anything in my fourteen years of life, it's the fact that humans are repulsive creatures. They truly are. However, it wasn't until I turned ten that I fully understood this fact. Humans are vile and revolting.

They say eyes are windows into the soul. Tch. Whoever said that must have been human. Humans have no souls.

"That's disgusting."

Well, that makes me feel fantastic.

"Mommy, what is that?"

Yes, ask your mother what 'that' is. I'm sure she'd be delighted to inform you.

"Sweetie, it's not polite stare. I don't know what it is, but it's not safe to stand close."

I'm sure you're a great parent, aren't you? Steering clear of any filthy creatures.

"Aww, he's kind of cute, isn't he?"

Ugh. This variety of human is the most annoying. I'd much rather have humans detest me than fawn over me. That way, they leave sooner and I can be left alone.

There is not much I enjoy in life.

I wish that were a false statement, but there's nothing I can do about it. Everyday, I see people walk by with their families or companions; chatting mundane things with smiles on their faces. I don't envy them; not one bit. Sure they might have happy lives and they don't have a care in the world, but they are all ignorant and will stay that way until death. That said, I do have a few things that I find manageable, though.

I like crows.

I know that is a bit strange to say, considering humans dislike them and I, myself am human (regrettably). Some humans have said crows are symbols of death, because of their dark appearance and hoarse cries to each other. I don't understand that statement. I've seen humans with more evil in them. Crows don't capture other crows for experiments. Crows don't mock other crows for being different. Crows don't torture other crows, they help each other.

I like alleyways.

Saying 'I like alleyways' is akin to saying 'I like water.' Alleyways, to me, are crucial in my life. I wake up there, everyday. They are the only places in my world that matter. I receive protection from those detestable humans in alleyways. Well, most of the time.

Occasionally, humans stumble into my alleyway, it seems, for the sole purpose of fighting. I stand my ground and tell them to find another alley, but that never ends well (for me, anyway). I usually end up with injuries and eventually leave, allowing them to stay. I know I should have my 'fight or flight' response, but I refuse to let anyone take advantage of me, again. For that reason, I have decided to disband my 'flight' option.

I like sweets,

I do like them, very much. I used to consume a sweet after every meal, if my parents allowed me. I find it hard to believe it's been four years since I last sampled a delectable dessert. Oh, what I would give to try one again, at least once.

Oh my, it seems I have been rambling. Well, I suppose I should wake up now. But, that will take some patience, since, well, it's Friday.

Waking up takes a moment, since I have to make sure nobody is in my alley. Upon taking a moment to listen to my surroundings before opening my eyes, I hear the dripping of a drain pipe and the small footsteps of rats. No people, which means I can relax now.

I open my eyes and stretch a bit as I stand up. When I look around I see the opening of the alley and squint my eyes as the morning sun reflects off of all of the shop signs and cars.

I slept in, terrific. I hate sleeping in. I used to love it when I was younger and had a comfortable bed in which to wake up. Since I try to avoid humans as much as possible, I wake up early to walk to Clapham Common park. It's not too far away from the alleyways I choose to spend the night prior, so I don't need to spend any unnecessary time in public (public as in out of the alleys).

I consider this schedule to be quite beneficial. This way, people won't have their comments or snide remarks to shove in my ears and I can stay hidden in silence.

BUT NOT TODAY.

Today, I woke up LATE. Which means I have to sneak across the road and shops to reach my shady tree. Remaining in this alley is not an option. As much as I hate to admit it, I need nourishment. I can't stay here, since there is no food. The rats that roam around are most likely diseased and the trashcans I sleep next to contain rotten food scraps.

I might not have money, but parks are notorious for picnics. Which means food. I loathe having to dig out of trashcans to eat. I really do. But, it can't be helped.

After I finish my stretches and remove all the filth I can out of my hair and clothes, I stick my head out of the alley and look around for any people.

Just my luck. People. Everywhere.

I retract my head and try to take one last look at myself before leaving the comfort of the alley. The puddle of drain water has a decent reflection. Standing next to it, I can barely see my figure. Disgusting.

My hair is no longer the clean and shiny dark blue it once was. Filth has stained my clothes for four years. But, my eyes. My eyes. The left eye still retains its deep cerulean blue hue. My right is different. It's a deep violet with marbled with light purple throughout. The pattern is much like the reflection at the bottom of a swimming pool, only purple. I hate it. It's only a reminder of my confinement and torture. But, it's not the only visible memory.

Above my head, drilled and stapled into my skull, stand two identical cat-shaped ears. They are proportional to my head and the fur is the exact color of my hair. It not only is an appearance hindrance, it affects my head. The 'ears' pick up on sounds an octave higher than normal humans, as well as quiet sounds that are almost nonexistent. These 'ears' keep me up most of the night with their incessant twitching and flickering.

If these reminders were the only ones there, it would be bearable. But, it's not bearable. On my lower back, drilled and connected to my tailbone, is a directly proportional cat-like tail, which almost touches the floor. The fur surrounding it is overwhelming, and it too, matches my hair color. My nerves, muscles and tendons have been integrated into my 'tail' and 'ears.' With my 'tail,' implanted bones are connected to my spine. Regrettably, this forces my tail to move, but I can barely control it, if not at all.

This is why I loathe showing myself in public. Those bastards who did this to me deserved to die slowly. Not the way they went. Bombing was too lenient a punishment for those things.

Four years since my capture and I can still remember their faces as clear as crystal. I remember that day as clear as the sky I was named after. That was the day they started their 'treatment.' That day they had claimed to develop their 'serum' as they called it. This 'serum' was violet, most likely from the fermenting of chemicals, and smelled of rotten milk.

Strapping me to a cold, hard, examination table was stressful enough. Filling a needle with the 'serum' and injecting it into my right arm was terrible. Those humans surrounded me and after a few moments, they started to panic. Panic? Why would they panic? My screams kept me from completely understanding their words, but I caught a few: "...Spreading...impossible...reverse..."

That's when I felt my right eye go numb. Those men scurried around until they found a test tube containing a liquid with a red hue. My eyes were wide open as I screamed as loud as I could, trying to call for help. Of course, it was in vain. Who would help me? Certainly not humans. My mind was frantic with every thought I could possibly have. Who would help me? They prepared the crimson liquid in a syringe and immediately injected it into my left arm. I suppose they were trying to counteract the 'serum' that had failed.

One day I had awoken from one of my black outs, and I could hear those monsters talking amongst themselves. They mentioned feline RNA and DNA, they were talking about nervous systems and then they mentioned the 'failed serum.' That's when I realized that violet liquid must have been feline genes or something of that sort. Apparently, something they added caused the color to change and for it to spread into my eye.

Leaving my memories behind me, I decide to kick the drain water puddle and turn to face the alley exit. My life has left me in an alley, yet I still survive. I don't know how I do it. All the remarks and negative comments I receive are nothing compared to what I've been through. As long as my will holds out, I will keep living. I can't help it, it's who I am.

I am Ciel Phantomhive.