Author's Note: This is the new story I've been working on for two weeks now; I just didn't seem to get a satisfactory draft! -_- fail. Anyways, it's Black Butler again...

Reviews would always be an encouragement. but two things before everything else:

1. I shall be updating this VERY slowly, since I'm finding the plot a bit hard to carry on. The first few chapters will be quick to appear, but the others may take weeks. So PLEASE bear with me.

2. I made up a LOT of stuff about the appearance and mannerism of certain well-known characters who are not in the Kuroshitsuji manga/anime, but instead, I'm introducing them in this story. So that's a reason for my deep thinking. :\

A Prelude to a Blood-Stained Life

On an obscure date…6000 years ago

As the final hour struck, the darkness engulfed me. I did not realize what it was that tormented me so. I know I am alone: isolated. My body moved of its own accord as I struggled to land on the ground. But my wings were ever-persistent as they held me fifty feet above the ground, levitated. I shrieked in horror at the gore that lay littered in front of me, slowly unveiling itself in its dark splendor.

Another bronze spear flew towards me, almost making its mark at my head. I cowered, however, not missing the dark aura that surrounded the spear, and snapped it into two like a mere twig.

Everything and everyone seemed distant and unrecognizable to me. My mind was disoriented, my heart was beating against my ribcage ferociously, growing faster by the minute; my body numb and immobile as the sudden, inexorable power overcame my senses and rational thinking.

The shouts of the angels. The splatter of blood. The shrieks of agony. All fell to my deaf ears as I struggled against myself. Strained to break free from my own body. My own self.

Thousands of bodies lay strewn carelessly upon the angelic lair. I gazed down upon them, my eyes widening at the horror I'd caused.

The angels who had tried to bring down this sudden demented absurdity that had sprung up in me had mostly been brutally slaughtered. Here and there they lay, their bodies mangled, decapitated, annihilated. Yet another angel soared towards me, ignoring my yells of protest; that I wasn't doing this on purpose, I wasn't their enemy. He nearly reached me, just to be blown apart by some sudden force that radiated out of me. The blood splattered over my clean white dress as his entire body fell towards the ground, blown apart and torn away into minuscule bits and pieces.

More angels rebelled against me. Tons of them revolted against this hellish power I had suddenly attained...unintentionally.

RIP. A head torn off, spun on its axis, twisted at a break-neck 360 degrees.
SNAP. A spine turned back way further than its limits, breaking apart and tearing the torso with a vivid splay of blood.
SLASH. My sword soared away from my hand, cutting away at my attackers' chests, staining their outfits with gore as their slashed bodies fell to earth.
BOOM. Another angel annihilated. The muscles and skin over the chest and torso were ripped right off, the innards splaying out, and the lungs and heart were forced out, dropping down to the ground detached from the body.
STAB. A precise stab to the chest by my self-moving sword poked out the heart of an approaching angel...through his back.

More angels rushed at me from over-head...I could tell by the shouts. I simply stood there, not reacting at all. I knew it was no use...all my desperate pleading would be over-ruled anyways. The loud ripping and booming sounds told me they had been annihilated too. As I looked upwards, the blood from over head came raining down on me, the droplets on my face; my silvery-blonde hair drenched, my pure white dress and beautiful pinkish-white feathered wings stained with the blood of those who had been slain. Those who I had slain.

The blood of the slain ran down my body in droplets and splotches. The metallic stench was all over me.

As the two hundred or so angels fell to the ground, slain and defeated, my body finally soared downwards to rest upon the ground. My feet landed nimbly on the stone cold ground, and my wings folded themselves neatly behind my back as my sword soared back to me and sheathed itself innocently.

The whole 'calming-down' moment of my powers was so innocent, it was criminal.

A white aura emanated from me after my literal blood-bath, which glowed as radiantly as the brightest star, before a dark halo was born at its periphery and it began to swallow up everything. Gradually, the whole of the white turned to black, snarling and howling in a raspy tone, as the noise it made with raw energy echoed in my ears.

I had killed like a ruthless, merciless predator. I, who never even dared to hurt a fly, had killed legions of angels.

I felt more alive than ever, physically. I cannot explain what possessed me so bad, that I can't even feel my own head. It's as if I'm on a sweet drug: making me feel all light-headed and 'floaty' and more energetic than ever. My mental state was anything but stable. There was a strange pride of victory, an emotion I've never felt before. Pride.

Then, there was the desperate hollow feeling in my gut. As if deep down, that pride hasn't touched me. It hasn't reached my heart.

But the dominant of all emotions was the maddening guilt. The blood-sodden ground around me…my eyes were fixated on it. The imprint will be in my memories forever…I know it will be there for all eternity.

I feel so alone. So miserable. I want to kill myself. It's all my fault. It's my fault these people are dead. It's my fault that I turned out to be a target of the Archangels because of my power.

But…

I never wanted all of this to happen! I am still an angel, right? I will always be an angel, right? I never wanted to cause all this! It's not my fault! I never intended to cause harm to even an ant!

And then, I felt the truth dawn on me. I was no longer myself. I was different. I was not normal. And I had just killed a mass of my own people.

I passed out.

-forbidden desires-

"My Lord…here's the possessed one."

A handsome man with golden-brown eyes and blonde hair that reached his back and golden wings pointed to the direction of the young angel who lay upon the ground, motionless and covered in blood.

"Don't touch her."

Another man approached after hearing the first's call. This one with sparkling green eyes and golden-blonde hair which had brown streaks in it-tied in a cylindrical metal clasp along either side of his shoulders. He wore a mail shirt over his angel's robes, as well as strong armour plates here and there. He carried a huge spear and had two swords at his belt. There was a helmet with blue plumes on his head. Behind him was another angel. This one had short blonde hair which was black at the ends. The hair fell to the sides of his pale face in face-framing bangs. His eyes were a bright blue, but if one observed closely, they would see the faint rims of crimson around the pupils.

"Lorenzo…she is not possessed. She is simply under a charm. A charm of the polluted, inconsiderate, blasphemous ones among us. The guilty one is here." The angel in the mail shirt spoke to the one called Lorenzo.

"You mean…him?" The angel with the brown eyes (Lorenzo) pointed to the blue-eyed one.

The lord-like angel in the mail shirt grabbed the short-haired ones arm and shoved him over to Lorenzo. "Stare at his eyes, if you will."

Lorenzo looked into his eyes and gasped.

"Lord Raphael…he is…"

Lorenzo seemed lost for words as the red-rimmed-eyed angel smirked at him. Archangel Raphael simply chuckled.

"Take the woman to the High Prison. She may not be guilty of her state, but she still poses a great danger to us all. How this devilry was brought upon her by the likes of…" he stabbed the smirking angel at the side with his spear, making him bleed. The latter's smirk did not falter in the slightest. "…this, I cannot tell."

"She shall be locked up, sire?" Lorenzo kneeled down to look at the girl. As soon as he touched her wing, he was thrown away with such force that he ended up fifteen feet away.

"Lorenzo, when I say 'don't touch', I say so for a reason."

Lorenzo flew back to his senior. "I'm sorry, milord. But…what of him?" He motioned to the still-smirking angel. Raphael pulled out one of his own dark smirks.

"He shall be soon to fall."

So, whatcha think? I'd love to know! R&R!