Author's Note: Hello, all! Just a few notes before you begin...the main plot of this story begins in November 1887, which is *roughly* eight to nine months before the Kuroshituji timeline begins. This story will follow the manga's timeline and events.

Also, this is my first fanfiction, so please bear with me while I get used to how things work. :) Please feel free to review. Your feedback and constructive criticism are things to which I look forward. (Please and thank you) I do want to apologize for the length of this first chapter (and this author's note) but I wanted to get things rolling. My plan is to upload a new chapter every week, every two weeks at least...pending life and how many reviews I receive. I fully admit that if I do not receive reviews, that I will become discouraged in posting.

Last, but certainly not least, I give the disclaimer that, as much as I would like to, I do not own any of the Kuroshituji characters. The only characters I own are of my own creation. So, that all being said, please enjoy! :)

Chapter One: The Beginning of the End

I remembered sitting on the window bench, looking down into the garden below. It was early spring, when the flowers, bushes, and trees burst forth with life. A soft smile graced my lips as I watched Lady Phantomhive reading under the willow tree by the pond, the gentle breeze causing her hair to softly touch her face. She had been so ill recently, it was a relief to see she had regained enough strength to venture outside. The sound of the drawing room door opening drew my attention away from the peaceful scene below.

"Sarah!" a joyous voice cheered, causing me to turn my head just in time to sweep the happy child in my arms as he ran towards me, arms outstretched.

"Ciel!" I smiled, laughing as I returned his embrace.

"I believe someone is pleasantly surprised by your visit," a voice spoke as the door closed.

"Lord Phantomhive," I said as I rose with a slight curtsy, his son still in my arms, "I apologize for the lack of warning. My father and I are leaving for France tomorrow and I wanted to say good bye before we departed, seeing as we will be away for several months."

Ciel began squirming in my arms, so I put him down. The instant his feet touched the floor, he ran straight back to his father, who picked him up. I smiled at the boy who would one day be my husband. It was a peculiar arrangement to be sure, with me being eight years his elder. However, my father was the Earl's right hand man and closest friend, save Lord Diederich. With my position as a marchioness, it was an advantageous match and both my father and Lord Phantomhive believed I would be an asset to Ciel in his future service to the Queen. It was my hope that, though I merely loved the boy as a brother at the moment, one day it would grow into a fondness and, possibly, a love that could be shared between a husband and wife.

"There is no need to apologize, Lady Wakefield," Lord Phantomhive replied as he came over to stand by me. Leaning in, he placed a tender kiss on my cheek.

"We are glad you came," he spoke softly in my ear.

Blushing at the intimate gesture, I looked down at the floor, my heart sinking with sadness. This was one of the last happy memories I had with the Phantomhive's. Taking the cue from his father, Ciel's face lit up, and, leaning over towards me as his hands cupped my face, placed an excited kiss on my lips.

"Ciel!" I heard his father playfully chided.

I chuckled, knowing full well that the child had meant to kiss me on the cheek, but had simply missed.

"It is alright, I-"

My response was cut off as I began to cough. Why was it so difficult to breathe? Falling to the floor, my coughing had become so hard I had begun heave.

"My lady!" Lord Phantomhive exclaimed.

I looked up and, if I could have, I would have gasped in horror as I watched the skin, muscles, and tissue melt off his face. Ciel shrieked in terror and pain as he met the same fate as his father.

"My lady!"

Their cries kept ringing through the air. I tried to call out, but I couldn't catch my breath. The smell of smoke filled the room, suffocating and heavy.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain on my cheek. I hissed in pain and blinked, shocked to find that I was in my bed chamber, my hand clenched underneath my pillow as I had reached for my gun to find that it wasn't there. Of course it had been a dream. That had happened four years ago. Earl and Countess Phantomhive were dead, but Ciel miraculously alive. But it had felt so real, especially the smoke. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I looked to Cooper, my ladies' maid, who was leaning over me. Her hand trembled, the one which I concluded had just struck me.

"My sincerest apologies, my lady, but I had to wake you," she frantically said, hurriedly ripping the sheets away from me and jerking me to my feet. It was not in her nature to rush about like this.

I jumped as I heard something crash down the hallway, gunshots going off somewhere in the manor. My heart began to race as my hands fumbled to tie the band of the night coat that she had slipped me into.

"Cooper, what is happening?" I asked as I slipped my feet into the slippers she had tossed on the floor by me.

Her eyes reflected the terror that I was feeling in my heart.

"My lady, we are under attack."

I covered my mouth as I began to cough again. My eyes stung as I glanced over to the door of my chambers to see smoke billowing in the room from underneath. Without asking, Cooper placed a kerchief in my hand and placed it over my nose and mouth.

"Here, this will help with the smoke," she said as she glanced behind to me, dragging me by the hand towards the door.

There was a loud bang that sounded like thunder and then I felt the floor beneath me shake, knocking both Cooper and myself to the floor. We both struggled to our feet as the trembling of the house stopped. I reached for the doorknob, not caring that it was unpleasantly warm. I was about to open it, when Cooper gently touched my hand.

"My lady," she said as I turned to look at her, "no matter what happens, you must get to safety."

I nodded in understanding, steeling myself for whatever lay outside my chamber. Pushing me back to get in front of me, Cooper wrenched the door back and dashed out into the hallway. I paused for a moment, taken back by the wave of heat that hit me. However, I rushed out after her, not caring that the flames were quickly making their way up the hall towards us.

"There she is! Get her!" I heard someone yell.

The sound of gunfire rang out. Bullets splintered the wood floors and punctured the walls and caused shards of porcelain and china from broken vases to fall to the floor. I winced as some of the shards cut my right cheek. Adrenaline surged through my veins, urging me forward. Despite the danger I was in, I would not give in to panic. As the daughter of one of the Queen's guard dogs, this had not been the first attempt on my life that I had to evade.

Heavy footsteps followed close behind as Cooper and I ran into the study, locking the door behind us. She hurried over to a full length painting on the opposite side of the room and pulled it back, revealing the servant's hallway.

"They went in here!" someone said, followed by loud bangs as whoever was on the other side tried to break the door down.

I ran into the opening, turning to look back when I noticed Cooper didn't follow me.

"This will take you to a staircase at the other end of the manor. Take that down to the first floor. Then turn right and follow that to the exit in the back," she whispered hurriedly.

"I will," I answered with a swift nod, grabbing a torch that was near the entrance.

Without another word, Cooper slammed the picture back in place. As I ran, I heard a loud crash apart from the bangs. I assumed Cooper had knocked over the insect display to block the entrance. Gun shots echoed down the stone hallway, urging me to go faster. I heard cries that I knew were Cooper's. My heart sunk as I registered that I would never see her again. She had been a wonderful ladies' maid to me, almost like a second mother to me. I would miss her terribly.

My thoughts were interrupted as the loud thunderings of an explosion came from in front of me. I was thrown to the floor, my body reacting before my mind as I scurried back in the direction I had come as the ceiling and hallway collapsed in front of me. The torch I had dropped was snuffed out and I was engulfed in total darkness. Ears ringing, I froze as I waited for my eyes to adjust and for what remained of the hallway to stop shaking. The tension in my shoulders lessened somewhat once I noticed that my hurried breathing and heartbeat were the only sounds that filled my ears.

I turned my head either direction as I strained to see anything that might lead me to a suitable exit. Excitement flooded my veins as I saw a golden light coming from underneath a door that wasn't too far away from me. I gingerly got up, being careful with the steps I took, knowing all too well that any misstep could cause an avalanche of stone in which I would be trapped.

I eagerly gripped the door knob and swung the door open. I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the sudden assault of light.

"Sarah!" I heard my father yell, desperation and sorrow clouding his voice.

"Pa Pa?" I asked, confused, as my eyes finally adjusted.

Before I could realize the scene I had stumbled upon, several strong hands gruffly grabbed my arms and jerked me into the room to stand opposite of my father. He was restrained by two men. His face was swollen and bloody from the blows he had sustained. Where his nightshirt had been ripped, I saw deep wounds from where he had been stabbed.

"Pa Pa!" I cried out, struggling against the men who held me in a vain attempt to get to my father.

"Well, well, so this beautiful dove is your daughter," a mocking voice said.

I tensed as I felt an arm wrap around my waist, forcibly pulling me back into the man who stood behind me. My heart raced as panic filled my veins as I felt the cold blade of a knife against my throat. His breath was hot against my ear and neck.

He chuckled before he continued, "This should help loosen your lips."

I felt bile rise in my throat as I felt his hand slowly travel down my abdomen. My father's face contorted grotesquely with rage.

"Don't you touch her!" he screamed.

"Then tell me where it is," the man's gravelly voice replied.

The man's hand paused for only a moment while he waited for an answer before dragging me forward until I was mere inches from my father.

The man behind me scoffed at my father's silence.

"You Englishmen really are heartless," he began, his hand traveling downwards again, "You would protect your precious Queen at the expense of your daughter's purity."

I silenced the whimper that threatened to escape my lips, looking to my father for help. He looked abruptly to the far right and left of the room, then on either side of me, and then focused his glare directly at the man behind me. Realizing what he was trying to communicate, I nodded my head minutely at his signal, showing my understanding. Of course, there were seven others in this room other than him and me. They would be easy enough to take out…if we could both get free.

I tensed, my back arching as I tried to move away as the man's hands moved underneath my nightgown.

"Oh, what is this? There is no purity to be taken?" he sneered in my ear, then added, "I didn't take you as someone who was experienced. So I guess the rumors are true."

It felt as if someone had dumped icy water inside my body as I remembered screams and cries that only I could hear.

"Leave her alone!"

One of the men who restrained my father struck him in the face. With a sickening crack, his nose broke and blood started pouring freely down his face.

"But still," the man continued, bringing his hand to my face, roughly directing my gaze back to him as I tried to resist, "with a face like that, you'll still fetch a handsome price. He was very keen on making sure you were brought to him. Said you were special."

I looked down, capitalizing on not wanting to look him in the eye. He turned my face to look at my father once more. Fortunately, the momentary glance I got about the room allowed me to see that the man to my right was left handed and carried his pistol on his left hip. I grimaced as the knife was pressed against my throat harder.

"So what will it be, Wakefield? Your daughter or the Queen?" he asked, spitting the last word out like it was poison.

My father looked at me, no apology in his eyes as he remained resolute in his silence. My heart sunk slightly, though I was not surprised. Duty always came before family.

"Fair enough," their leader whispered, "Kill him."

I started at the sudden change in his decision. As the man to my father's right pulled a knife from his pocket, I fought against the hands that bound me.

"No!" I shrieked.

The man behind me laughed heartlessly as his subordinate slit my father's throat. I closed my eyes as I felt the stream of blood gush on my face and body, bathing me in the warm, metallic liquid. What would have been my father's screams only came out as horrifying gurgles.

"He was of no use since he wasn't talking. Besides, this is a fair, sweetheart, considering what you did to my brother," the man spat at me.

I stared, horrified, down at the bloody carnage that had fallen at my feet.

Suddenly, I felt the man's arm move to bring the blade across my throat, when he huffed in anger, the blade slipping in his blood soaked hands. This was my only chance. Without another thought, I bit down on his hand. His pained shrieks hurt my ears, but it accomplished what I wanted as his hold on me lessened. I ducked from underneath his arms, wrangling myself free from the other two men that held me due to the slipperiness of my blood coated arms. I grabbed the pistol from the holster of my left handed oppressor. With a loud bang of gunfire, I snuffed out his life. Quickly grabbing his body from behind, I used it as a shield just in time for the leader to lunge at me, stabbing his comrade's corpse instead of me.

I made quick work of the leader and four of the other men. I tossed the empty weapon to the floor as I looked about for a path of escape. The room smoldered with heat as the flames began to eat away at the door, greedily beginning to lick its way up the walls to my left. Turning, I realized my only option was the window. My breathing was labored and my arms shook from exertion as I drug the man's corpse along with me, his body quickly filling up with the bullets of his other associate. Reaching down, I swiped another pistol from the floor, answering his metal with my own. To my disappointment, due to the trembling of my arms, my aim was off and struck the man in the stomach rather than the heart. It would do, though, as he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach in a vain effort to stop the bleeding. I took advantage of this brief moment and thrust a nearby chair into the glass. The sound of shattering glass was met by the roar of the flames, sped on by the sudden burst of oxygen.

Quickly, I removed my night coat and placed it over the jagged edges of glass that jutted from the bottom of the windowsill. I did not have the time to make sure it was safe. Carefully, I pulled myself up, making sure I did not apply enough pressure for the glass to fully break through the fabric. As I did so, I studied the ground below. Thankfully it had snowed a considerable amount the past few days. Despite the fact I would be jumping from the second story, if I landed correctly, I should be able to make it without too much harm. It was still risky. However, considering my other options, I didn't see any better alternative. Though I'd have to be careful, I noted, my eyes narrowing. There were about twenty men searching the grounds for any survivors. It became clear in that moment that whoever had come to our manor tonight was not just looking for something, but was intent on eradicating us.

As I was about to launch myself off the ledge, my right ankle was grabbed from behind, my leg jerked back. The sudden movement caught me off guard. A scream tore up my throat as my right thigh was gouged and ripped by the glass that had torn through my night coat. Piercing pain shot from my hands and up my arms as I instinctively clutched to the windowsill, pieces of broken glass being ground into my palms as I struggled to resist.

In a last effort to survive, I released the sill with my left hand, blindly reaching for the pistol I had seen nearby. As soon as my fingers connected with metal, I clutched to my lifeline tightly, the tremors in my hands momentarily forgotten in the adrenaline rush. I turned slightly, just enough to see my target. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger and a moment later, my adversary fell to the floor. The fire eagerly ate his corpse with the rest of his fallen comrades.

I clumsily pulled myself up on to the windowsill again. Shallow gasps escaped my lips as pain radiated through my body. Unfortunately, I did not have the time to make an educated leap. Rather, I toppled over the edge without grace or purpose, hoping I might be able to manage not killing myself doing this. But a few seconds later I lay on the ground. The world around me was spinning as I tried to regain the breath that had been knocked from my lungs. I heard cries from another part of the grounds. I let out a low growl as I struggled to sit up. I had been spotted.

Making quick work of it, I ripped a section of my nightgown and tied it tightly at the top of my right thigh. With more men in pursuit, I didn't have time to examine my wound, but if the amount of blood that was on my leg was any indication, I would need medical attention and soon. I grimaced as I pulled myself to my feet, using the wall to support me. There was only one place I could go nearby that I could hope to receive the help I needed. I had to hope against all hope that he would be willing. Without taking another moment to calculate the risk of approaching him again, I made my way towards the stables as quickly as I could. My right leg screamed as the muscles tried to work in moving me forward.

An image from the last time I saw Ciel flashed in my mind. The eye that wasn't covered by an eyepatch glared at me, his gaze cold and filled with anger. A door slammed in my face.

"It appears that Lord Phantomhive no longer wishes to see you," the smooth voice of the darkly clad butler echoed in my mind.

I could almost feel his breath against my ear, causing me to shiver.

"And I would recommend never coming here again," he added, though his tone was laced with the threat he intended to convey.

I shook the memory from my mind as I clumsily mounted the horse, tucking the rifle I had swiped close to my side. The cold winter air bit at my cheeks and exposed legs and feet as I urged the creature to flee. No matter what fate awaited me at the Phantomhive mansion, surely it would be better than the certain death that awaited me here. I had to try. It was my only hope.

"No matter what happens, you must get to safety," Cooper had said.

If I had only known.