AN: So it's been a while since I wrote anything… or updated my other story. I haven't abandoned it, I promise. I just had some writers block on top of trying to graduate and my senioritis has affected everything in my life. However this demanded to be written before I could get out another chapter of Her Majesty's Orders. Btw, I have no beta so forgive errors please.

Warnings for this chapter: mentions of child abuse and illusions of death and so forth.

Chapter 1: It's a thin line

Tik-tok. Tic-tok. Tic-tok. Tic-tok…

Despite being located on the other end of the hall and tucked quaintly away beneath the stairs on the first floor, in the dead of night, the ticking of the old grandfather clock echoed throughout the entire house. The mantra was as deafening as it was maddening and it was that sound in particular which kept Alois up at night. Its noise tormented and pricked at his nerves, bothering him more than the midnight buzzing of the cicadas or engine like snores of the old man, spent from earlier activities, lying next to him.

On thick summer nights such as these when neither his heat flushed skin nor the ache his of abused bones would succeed in succumbing his mind to rest, Alois would wish for the rain. He liked the rain. Not only was it oddly comforting but he found himself naturally amused by its fickle nature. Sometimes the rain would float down with the breeze and lightly kiss the earth and at other times it would pour relentlessly from the sky, submitting the world to its will.

The rain also carried with it memories of Luka. Alois could remember when he and Luka would play in it for hours, not caring if their pants got dirtied or their socks wet. When it would rain particularly hard he would take Luka's hand in his, close his eyes and imagined the world had been washed away and a new one created. A world with no one, just for him and Luka.

Although, most relevantly, it was the only noise he knew of besides the rare occasion at this time of night of a passing car which could block out the damn ticking of that old clock. Let the rain fall and drown it and everything with it, Alois decided and closed his eyes and waited. He could practically smell it in the thickness of the humid air, waiting to be released. Alois listened intently though his world remained silent, that is of course with the exception of the ticking.

Having all but given up on the hope of rain, and cursing the bastard of a weatherman who had predicted its coming, Alois shifted his attentions to the oil lamp on his bedside, his expression vacant. If anything, the lamp was impractical in the heat brought by an intensely humid Alabama summer, but Alois would refuse to sleep without it. The complete dark was more ominous than the ticking could ever be and it was the one thing he was grateful the old man indulged him in. Watching the lamp flicker, his eyes fixed intently on its flame; Alois didn't realize when he began to hear it. The rain, it had started to rain.

Releasing itself into an all out downpour the rain fiercely pounded on the roof and windows. Delighted, Alois listened further, no longer enslaved by the ticking. Its methodical drumming was freeing, and it berated everything it touched from the old station wagon with the brown and tan chipping paint in the driveway to the streets and sidewalks which it filled like water in a clogged drain. The rain, ever rising and rising, not in the least suspect to the men, women and children that slept so soundly in their beds and ever rising to meet the sky from which it came.

After some time had passed Alois hears the water as it enters the bedroom and steadily fills it too. He wiggles his toes as it seeps between them and onto the sheets soaking them and him completely. The water feels good, and Alois doesn't mind the cold of it when it encompasses him, purifying his tainted and marred skin.

Looking over to his left, Alois sees the old man is still sleeping, his snores bubble beneath the rising water. Letting out a giggle at this he pauses before releasing another and another and another. Alois then wonders if he is the only one privilege to the knowledge of their impending doom as the bubbles the old man emits grows ever smaller and less frequent until they are no more.

Guided by way of an unknown current, Alois floats from his bed as everything is completely submerged. Feeling slightly lightheaded, his attention is caught by the scene outside his window. His view of the neighborhood is surprisingly clear amongst night and murky water. The streetlamps glow ethereally under the water illuminating all the waterlogged bodies of the townspeople floating listlessly amongst the houses and trees. They remind him of dolls, plastic lifeless dolls drifting amidst a plastic lifeless town with plastic meaningless lives which have now come to an end.

From his position he inspects the faces of the men, women and children, all of them ignorant of what has befallen them as their faces betray their current position. He feels unusually giddy and giggles soon turn into laughter when he remembers how their faces were. Those judging faces which looked upon an orphaned boy and his brother with distain, as if it was their fault their parents had died. As it was his fault that Luka had died.

Now in a fit of hysterics Alois clutches his sides and he can feel the water filling him now too, breaking whatever barrier had since kept it at bay. He can't hear the rain or clock anymore all he hears is his laughter. A euphoric vertigo passes through him and he wonders if this is what it feels like to drown and yet he can only continue to laugh regardless of it all…

-CRACK-

It takes a sharp smack which connects with his face to bring him back to reality and the recoil causes him to fall from the bed. His vision is blurry; although he can tell the lights are now on and can hear the old man yelling.

"Are you deaf as well as dumb? I said shut the fuck up!" The old man looked down at Alois who hadn't moved since he hit the floor in a mess of bedding.

Had he just dreamed it all? Or had it been another hallucination? Recently, Alois had been having troubles deciphering between them and what was real. His lack of sleep was making him delirious and his hallucinations were becoming more and more grandiose. It had felt real, very real in fact, he thought absent-mindedly glancing at his fingers, feeling them to be only moist from sweat.

"Well?"

Having to satisfy an old pervert by warming their bed almost every night wasn't particularly helping his condition either.

"Jim you better fucking answer me now, you hear me boy?"

Despite the rough poke of the old man's cane at his ribs Alois only moved when he heard the bastard call him by the name "Jim". The name was like hot coals pressed upon him and he was propelled to move if only to shake them off and it with them as well.

Jim was dead. Jim's world and everyone he had loved had been destroyed and in turn Alois destroyed Jim. It was only the humane thing to do, like putting a wounded animal out of its misery. However no matter how many times he had been insistent the old man call him Alois, or even a goddamn pet name of the man's choosing, he was refused and Alois was kept branded as Jim. 'Old country Jim.

"Yes."

His response wasn't an answer to the question or even a question to prompt the old man further. It was merely spoken so the old fuck would go back to sleep and Alois could lie awake in somewhat peace … if he could ignore the ticking.

"You can sleep on the goddamn floor if you can't appreciate sleeping in a bed."

Alois was silent but that was fine with him, the floor was cooler anyway.

"Downstairs. And I had better not catch any of those lights on. I'm not made of fucking money."

Narrowing his eyes at the old man's spiteful arrogance Alois had a rebellious urge to strike him for it but resisted with some efforts. Although aged, the old man could still overpower him physically and especially in his weakened state. Not to mention as his caretaker the bastard had the final say in whether Alois would eat the next day or not. Given little choice, he abandoned the idea from his mind before it could persuade him further. Although he took solace in the fact that the old man would get his one day, he would be sure to that.

Alois didn't say anything more as he left the room, not bothering to grab his pajamas that lay scattered across the old man's floor. Too hot for covering up and it wasn't as if anyone else lived in the house, not that he would have cared enough to do so anyway.

His eyes shut along with door when it closed behind him. He didn't dare open them. It was dark and he would surely scream if he were to open them which would surely award him a beating from the old man if he were to wake him again. Feeling the wall for support, Alois blindly headed down the hall towards the staircase, the increasing volume of the ticking guiding him towards it. His hand soon glided over a door frame, then knob, that he recognized it to be his.

If he wanted he could go into his own room, the old fart would never know. However the thought of lying in bed again seemed unappealing to him. It would be stuffy in his room which windows never favored breezes and it didn't look like he would actually be sleeping anytime soon. Reaching the end of the hall he descended the staircase, peaking quickly to make for certain he was at the bottom before darting left into the kitchen. He didn't have to fumble around long before he found another lamp on top of the counter with accompanying matches.

Like navigating hallways, Alois had become almost an expert at lighting matches with his eyes closed. A necessity for one as frightened of the dark as he. Not that those skills amounted to anything in particular, but they proved useful to him. With some light available, however dim, he was now free to open his eyes and scan the room for security.

He hated this house. It was big, old, creaky and above all scary. Built in plantation style, it was one of the largest on the block. Although even for his small country town the house seemed to be out of place in modern suburbia. It was one of those houses the neighborhood kids avoided and you would see in horror movies. Although it was more tolerable during the day, there always seemed to be a corner where the light would never reach.

Alois was snapped out of his thoughts when a crack of thunder roared through the sky and he heard an all too familiar sound begin to beat on the ground. His hands flew to his mouth to suppress a cry. Was this just another delusion?

Setting the lamp somewhat shakily on the counter, Alois held out his arm and dug his nails in good. Pain. He pinched himself again and then once more to be safe. More pain resulted, along with a bit of blood which trickled down his arm. Either it was actually raining or pain was simply becoming a nonfactor in the determining of reality. The thought really scared Alois to think about, so he just didn't.

Climbing upon the counter-top he reached a hand out of the open window over the sink catching some of the fat drops in his hand. The rain mixed with the summer air heating it to the degree of a lukewarm bath but it still felt cool in comparison to the heat inside.

In a flash decision Alois hopped off the counter and rummaged through a random bottom drawer. Not there. Where could it be? The left maybe? Not in that one either… biting his lip he held back a bit before remembering, second drawer to the right. There!

It was a flashlight. Not just any flashlight either but a short yellow one decorated with sparkly stickers of fairy tale characters and various scribbling in permanent marker. Luka had decorated it. Alois clutched it to him gingerly as he turned it on, giving it a few short shakes before the light came out.

Walking carefully to the kitchen door, he undid the bolt lock listening carefully to any noises that signaled the old man had woken up again. Upon hearing nothing but the pattering of the rain he opened the door, then the screen door before stepping out onto the porch.

It was dark, but outside was no more frightening than inside the creepy house and with the rain and Luka's flashlight Alois felt more at home than ever. With a sudden burst of energy he sprang from the porch into the rain. He twirled around as the rain showered on his bare skin and felt the wet grass squish between his toes. He made a game of jumping from puddle to puddle and let out a small giggle. He didn't have to worry about neighbors. It was still the country so houses although close were a good distance apart. Plus, everyone was asleep this time of night, leaving Alois to the most peace of mind he had gotten all night so far.

Alois was so focused on his puddle game he did not notice that he had gone quite a ways from the back porch and along the side of the house until he had heard a loud thud. Frozen in his tracks he heard what sounded to be foot-tracks sloshing through muddy grass. Fight or flight senses taking over he started to run before his mind could register what his legs were doing.

Rushing back up the porch steps he pulled on the door but realized it had locked behind him. Shit. The weight of the surrounding darkness outside crashed down on him and he cursed himself for leaving the house in the first place.

Knowing the front door was locked as well Alois made a mad dash back to the side of the house to climb through the kitchen window he had left open. Eyes focused on the goal he did not notice the form of the man in front of him in the darkness and collided with him. The man remained steady but Alois had fallen back into the soaked grass. The rain clouded his vision and the very breath was knocked out of him preventing him from screaming.

The shadowed stranger did not move but only stand above Alois who was visibly shaken. The atmosphere was tense but the man did not make a move which prompted Alois to.

"W-Who are you?" Alois asked, having already caught his breath, his voice was shook from fear.

However steady rainfall was the only response to his question as the bespectacled man moved to crouch down above him. Alois could still not clearly see his face.

" Burglar?"

No response.

"Rapisit?"

Further silence.

"Haint?*"

The man didn't respond for a third time and Alois was getting frustrated at the lack of anything from this strange man who may in fact end up killing him for all he knew. Alois was beginning to think he had hallucinated this man who surly would have responded by now if in fact real.

"Well you sure as hell don't look like a fucking fairy." Alois couldn't tell in the dark and with the rain in his eyes but he was sure he could make out a small smirk on the man's face at that remark.

"I believe I am your new neighbor."

Bump-bump- bump-bummmmmmm. Guess who? Well duh, its Claude lol, fing creeper. Who did you expect? Grell LOL.

Oh before I forget, "Haint" is southern colloquialism for ghost or spirit in case anyone was wondering.

I've had this story in my head for a while so I hope you enjoy it. I apologize for this chapter being somewhat uneventful and a bit boring but I wanted to lay down some foundation and god knows I can't help my overly detailed writing style, but it will be worth it later just trust me ;) Sebastian and Ciel will make their appearance eventually but it will be a few chapters before they come into play.

Also, yes the fic starts state side in the south, but it will definitely eventually continue in England. I pictured Alois with this cute little southern twang in his voice and couldn't resist, come onnnnn you know it works. As far as updates, I'm taking 20 credits this quarter but I don't have classes on Fridays so expect updates over the weekend and possibly bi weekly. K thanks and please I can't stress enough REVIEW.