Warning: some characters (most notably Hide) have slightly different personalities as a result of the AU

ALSO let me explain that to begin with this will be a semi-retelling of Tokyo Ghoul just in a Victorian setting and without the ghouls.

Yes. Tokyo ghoul without the Tokyo and the ghouls. I have just said that aloud for the first time and realized what a wreck this is going to be.

SO HEY ENJOY


"When one wolf eats another, there is nothing to eat in the woods."

A Victorian proverb


England, 1888

The streets of London are alive.

Markets have popped up everywhere and they're swarming with the poor and rich alike, beautiful cloth and the rags of the homeless mixing together like some grotesque fashion show. The sound of the masses is practically deafening, salesmen screaming at passersby to examine their wonderous wares and crowds gasping at the dangerous acts of street performers. Those belonging to the darker side of the city tread more carefully than usual in the daylight, aware of the mounting numbers of rozzers watching the streets, but the rest ignored or felt thankful for their presence.

'Dangerous times, these' muttered the lower class workers as they headed to work as the higher class women whispered behind gloved hands 'what a horror this is'.

But the streets of London wouldn't die for anything and, in a very Victorian fashion, the show went on.


"Good god, Ken, must we go there again?"

The dark haired young man glowered at his fair haired companion's pretend scowl, another jolt of the carriage making him grit his teeth. "You were the one who wanted to accompany me, Hide."

A grin spread out on the blonde's face, brown eyes flashing with amusement. "Of course, I get to miss another 'time to marry' conversation with my father by doing so." He spun his cane around, the sides brushing by his shined shoes. "Anyway, I have still yet to see the reason for your infatuation with that rundown bookstore."

"That's because you skipped the lessons on the importance of literature when we were younger." Ken sighed in exasperation when Hide nodded enthusiastically-he could not understand why his friend was so intelligent and yet abhorred reading for long periods of time. The blonde always wanted instead to do something adventurous, which more than often made them both end up in a ridiculous amount of trouble. "And I told you before that the bookshops near home are too snobbish."

Hide laughed. "Ken, we are rich! We are supposed to be snobbish!"

Yet another jolt of the carriage made them fly out of their seats, Hide muttering something that would've made other company turn pink. Ken rolled his eyes instead before spotting a familiar building and rapping his own cane against the roof of the carriage. It halted soon after and the dark haired male swung a door open, careful to not step in a puddle as he hopped out. Hide did not share such caution and another expletive left his mouth as mud flew over his shoes and the bottom of his trousers. Thankfully, the driver seemed unbothered by his language and Ken hastily paid the man, grabbing Hide by the arm and pulling him to the safety of the pavement.

"And you wonder why I don't like it here." Hide huffed, muttering about how his parents would kill him if they found his clothing in such a state again. "How on earth do you always get out unscathed?"

"By using my head." Ken spoke scathily, a little irritated by his friend's display. Luckily, they had gotten out on a quiet road, the only other person around being a man who slept with his back leant against a cracked wall. "Now come on, we can't be too late back."

"Yes, mother." Hide's lips stretched into another grin as Ken marched ahead, cane smacking against the ground as he walked.

The bookstore lay at the corner of the road, an old sign that once had probably looked welcoming, now peeling and ready to fall, announcing it's presence. The windows weren't much better, streaked with dust and grime that had gathered there over the years. Pushing open the door, a dented bell let out a flat ringing sound, alerting the man at the desk that new customers had arrived. Ken smiled as he usually did upon entering, the man acknowledging his presence with a stiff jerk of the head before shuffling papers about in his hands. Hide immediately leant against the desk and attempted to strike up a conversation, the male looking somewhat dismayed by his presence.

Deciding it was more effort than it was worth, Ken left the shopkeeper for exploring the bookshelves yet again. Despite looking almost abandoned, the bookstore seemed to have quite the sizeable amount of customers considering how it always had enough money to restock books and get shipments of new releases. Ken felt pleased by this-this store always had so many interesting books written by authors he'd never heard of whereas the bookstores of choice of the upper class just had Dickens, Blake, Dickens, Wilde, Dickens.

Not that he didn't enjoy their works, but Ken fell in love with the variety available to him here and he'd stuck with this place ever since his discovery of it. Tracing his gloved fingers over the spines of the many books before him, he found himself slowly approaching the back of the store, piles and piles of literature surrounding him in his own little world. A familiar title then lunged out at him and he reached for it, fingers colliding with another outstretched hand.

Recoiling quickly, he glanced up to see whom he had contested for the book. There stood a young woman with an embarrassed smile. Dark, purple hair cascaded down one shoulder and eyes of a similar colour, albeit lighter, danced with an emotion Ken couldn't quite identify. Her sleeves were ruffled and her dress had a striped design, thin blue lines running all the way down. The effect of her corset was clear, waist tiny and attractive according to traditional values of Victorian beauty. And the paleness of her skin made her lips look startlingly red, as if she had cut them so they could be covered with her own blood.

"Oh, I apologize sir." She spoke in the voice of an aristocratic woman but Ken could see the tears on her clothing and the dirt on her neck.

He suddenly felt aware of the richness of his own outfit-a silk waistcoat, a blue coat embellished with decorative white patterns, gloves made to fit his slender hands-and cleared his throat, cringing inwardly at the noise. "No, I was at fault. I apologize, madam."

A giggle rose in the woman's throat and she covered her mouth with one hand. "It is not everyday I am addressed so highly from someone of your background, sir." There was a wheedling tone to her voice and she tilted her head to one side. "You are quite the gentleman."

Ken felt heat rushing to his cheeks and he glanced towards the book they had both reached for. "Ah, are you a fan of this author too?" He felt the words come out awkwardly as she slid the book out of the bookcase with a secretive smile.

"Indeed, I am. The Black Goat's Egg is quite a wonder, is it not?" Something flashed from around her wrist and Ken spied two red jewels tied to a black cord that hung there.

"It does not upset your sensibilities?" He felt as though something was clogged in his throat and leaving him short for breath.

She flashed another smile, eyes flickering with that unknown emotion again. "No, as a woman, not at all sir. You see, us women aren't so easily distressed by scenes in a book. Our stomachs handle it quite well." Taking a step towards him, she pressed the book into his hands as he swallowed thickly. "Especially women of my stature. We know of many things. Would you like to learn about them, sir?" The woman looked up at him through her eyelashes, jewels about her wrist brushing his fingertips when she leant a little closer to him.

"Good Lord, Ken, are you quite finished?!" Hide's shout shattered the moment and Ken stepped backwards, back knocking against a bookcase and making him gasp in surprise. Another giggle made him look back at the woman.

"If you ever want to learn, I'll always be around here, mister Ken."

Adrenaline still singing in his veins, Ken turned on his heel and walked away fast, head pounding with her laughter.


The Nagachika house was the home Ken had known the longest out of any other residence he had lived at. It was also most definitely the biggest.

The building had more rooms than Ken could count on his fingers with a whole area just for the servants and practically an entire floor for Hide and himself. Lavish wallpapers covered every wall and the floorboards were either varnished or covered with expensive carpets, gold thread woven into the material. Beds were large and covered with fluffed up pillows, mirrors were ornate with their silver framework and there were whole rooms just filled with clothing that had been tailored for every one of them.

In Victorian London, the rich lived well.

"What an envious man you are!" Hide exclaimed, coat discarded over a chair and his golden striped waist-coat shining in the light of the room. A violin was laid on his lap as he lounged of the sofa, plucking it's strings absentmindedly. "There you are, entranced by the lady of your dreams, and here I am trying not to look too bored by all the eligible women whom my father wishes me to marry!"

"I did not say she was the lady of my dreams." Ken admonished his friend, ignoring how the thought of the woman made his cheeks flush a little.

"You might as well have." The blonde frowned when he plucked the E-string, tuning it as he spoke. "According to you, she's beautiful and has a spectacular taste in books."

"I also said she seemed a little odd."

Hide rolled his eyes. "As are you, Ken. Come, father is only letting you off the whole marriage talk for now because you aren't related to him through blood. As soon as I'm paired off with some girl, you'll be next. Why don't you just go for the woman?" He raised an eyebrow, questioning why Ken hadn't agreed to just that yet.

Sighing, Ken gave in. "I told you, she was beautiful and I am not exactly the most desirable man around."

His friend snorted. "Ken, you're rich. That's desirable enough."

"You mean you're rich." The dark haired man snatched up a newspaper, already regretting what he had said and wanting to hide his pained expression.

On the sofa, Hide sat up promptly, frowning. "And I told you, my money is your money so stop acting like it isn't. You're a Nagachika in all but name, Ken. Everyone here thinks of you that way."

"I know, I'm sorry, I didn't…" Trailing off, he sighed again, Hide accepting his apology with a thump as he reclined on the couch once more. Ken's eyes trailed through the printed words before him, catching on the main headline. "They're running another story about the murders." He announced, anticipating Hide's next question and throwing the newspaper towards him. Hide caught it with a grin, scanning through it was dancing eyes. "You shouldn't be so entertained by death." He frowned, the blonde looking amused by his words.

"Says the person reading all those gruesome stories." He indicated to the book Ken had bought from the bookstore earlier.

His friend spluttered. "Sen Takatsuki writes thought provoking stories of the highest standard, you can't just pigeon hole them as being simply gruesome! Anyway, it is all fictional whilst what you're reading is real."

There was a moment of silence as Hide thought of his response, still looking down at the newspaper. "It is hard to think of this all being real though." He eventually spoke quietly, serious tone seeping into his voice. "People that would kill so brutally and the fear their victims felt. It just seems like some sort of fairy tale made to scare children at night." A rueful smile then passed over his lips. "I guess it's the privilege of the rich to be able to entertain themselves with stories of the misery of others when it is so far away from our lives of luxury."

The bell signaling dinner stopped Ken from responding, words of comfort and agreement stuck to the tip of his tongue.

LINE

"Drink it up love, don' wont ye wasting money now do we?" A somewhat busty woman grinned at the man sat at the bar, showing off yellowed teeth as she did so. In response, the man sneered, causing the barmaid's fairly pretty face to twist into an ugly snarl. "Well then, I 'ope ye choke on it." Turning on her heel, she stomped off, leaving the male to down the beer alone.

From the other side of the tavern, people were shouting and roaring with laughter, dancing noisily to the sound of off tune instruments whilst using their hands that weren't holding women to drink. None seem perturbed by the danger that lay outside on the dark streets of the city at night, coddled with alcohol and the sound of bad music.

A young boy knocked into the stool of the alone male and barely missed the swing of his cane, slipping the man's purse easily out of his pocket. Sprinting off after committing the crime, the victim of the thievery stumbled after the boy, crashing into the door and almost falling as he made his way out onto the open street. "Get back here!" He roared as the child ran, worn shoes smacking against the cobbled road. There was hardly anyone around in the open air but chasing his thief was difficult anyhow, the man eventually having to stop with the burning pain of a stitch in his side. Cursing as the child disappeared from view, he kicked a curb, the sound of giggling erupting into the air.

"Not having a good night, sir?"

Red faced from running, the man turned to see a woman standing just out of reach of the light from a gas lamp above. Seeing his squint, she stepped to the side, allowing herself to be illuminated. A pretty face stared at the man, bright red lips stretched into a smile and two jewels clinking from around her wrist. "What do you want?" He growled as she slinked towards him, body swaying in a hypnotizing manner.

"I only want to help, sir. See, we can't have your night ending so poorly now can we?" She almost cooed to him, fluttering her eyelashes.

He scowled. "I haven't the money to pay you, whore. A brat stole it from me."

Another laugh and the woman trailed her fingers up his arm slowly, pressing her body into his. "Oh, but I wouldn't ask you to pay, sir. For a handsome face like yours, I'll give you my services on the house."

His somewhat intoxicated mind whirled as the woman began to draw him out of the light and towards a dark alleyway. She was beautiful and the way she spoke reminded him more of an upper class lady than the usual three-penny-uprights that roamed the dark streets of London. She was more like a toffer, even with her somewhat ragged clothes, and the man decided that such a breed was rare. So, he placed his hand around her slim waist, making her smile widen.

"You have good taste, woman." He spoke in a low voice as the light of the gaslamp got further and further away.

The woman pressed her lips to his ear. "Not as good as yours, sir."


"Of all the times you chastise me for not acting like a wealthy young man, you are in actual fact no better, are you?" Ken huffed as his friend tapped his chin thoughtfully, peering closely at the merchandise before him.

"I am merely displaying my skill at being an honourable gentleman." Hide grinned after having selected what he thought of as the best vegetable the stall had to offer with the flick of his gloved finger. The salesman rushed to serve him, obviously flustered by the duo's expensive clothing that was not seen usually up close at such food markets.

Ken narrowed his eyes. "And yet I am the one to carry your purchases." He pointed out, shifting about the bag in his arms.

"Of course you are! I pick out the best produce and wear out my brain whilst you carry it all and wear out your muscles." Hide explained smugly, smiling courteously at the stall owner and handing over the money without complaint. The dark haired man rolled his eyes, following after his companion when he strolled off happily to the next stall. His god forsaken friend just had to jump at the offer to buy the food needed for the cook when overhearing two servants whispering to each other about it. Naturally, he had only done it to miss out talking to a business partner of his father's.

"They are always such dull men." Hide had complained once, claiming to dislike their constant talk of social affairs and the state of factories around the country whenever they visited. Ken could not help but fear for the time his friend took over the family company even though he knew the man to be truly intelligent.

To be fair though, Ken did not like the talk of those elder man either. They were strict and stuck their noses far up into the air, often seeming somehow insulted by his presence as a young man beside them. Hide's smiles and grins were often considered badly-he needed to act like an adult already, god knows what will happen to the Nagachikas' when he takes over, were the constant scathing whispers he heard when they had forgotten he was there.

And the talk about himself wasn't exactly kind either.

"Ken, listen to me man!" Hide snapped his fingers in Ken's face, the man blinking in surprise at his friend's exasperated expression. "I am asking for your opinion on a gift for a future lady friend!"

Ken looked down at the angled display the blonde had gestured to, rows of jewellery laying there and shimmering when the light hit them. "Future lady friend?" He questioned as he took in each one slowly.

"There is going to be another meeting of a prospective partner soon and, beyond being intelligent and witty, she's supposedly a real beauty!" Hide exclaimed, sighing as if it were news Ken were meant to know. "Other people of her household are influential too in the upper social circles so you are expected to attend also."

Ah. That was why he was supposed to know.

Wondering how on earth such information had passed him by, his eyes then caught onto a necklace with a red stone set into it as it's main piece. The vividness of the colour was starkingly similar to that woman's lips and jewels that hung about her wrist. It reminded him of the dream he had experienced the night after seeing her.

A maze of books, each turning more confusing than the last. The twisting of the world and the eventual collapse, revealing what lay in the centre of the dead labyrinth of words. A woman, wrapped in red silk as if it were the dress of a Greek, and within it laying Aphrodite. Her hand outstretched and lips calling his name, beckoning him to safety from the broken spines and ripped pages beneath his feet-

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" Hide spoke with a twitching mouth, eyebrows raised when his close friend became somewhat flustered. "Oh, you are a lovesick fool, Ken."

"I told you, I am not lovesick-"

Hide cut Ken off with the wave of his hand, then the outstretch of his arms. "Fine, fine, go to your destined maiden and leave me to finish our chore alone."

Ken spluttered a little. "Our chore? You're the one who dragged me into this!"

"Details, details." Taking their purchases from his companion's arms, the blonde turned his attention back to the jewellery. "Tell me what entailed of your courting when you get home. I shall cover for you with father, don't you worry." He dismissed Ken with a final smile.

Despite wanting to deny everything and not concede to his friend, the dark haired male decided he might as well give in and muttered quick, embarrassed words of thanks, heading quickly to the nearest road and hailing a carriage. He got one before the people around him could, Ken noted with a cringe as he stepped inside, all too aware that his fine clothing meant money and money meant a nice payday for the driver of the coach. Rattling off the address anyway, he leant back into the cushioned seat.

Perhaps he should have bought something for her? Or would that have been too presumptuous? Drat, maybe he should have accepted Hide's offer to help him woo the lady even if he could be quite ridiculous.

By the time Ken had been dropped off in front of his usual bookstore regret had already begun pooling in his stomach. He hadn't any plan to appeal to the quite literal woman of his dreams. At this rate he'd end up flustering and spitting out a garbled mess of nonsense from his mouth. Fat lot of good money will do then, he thought, resisting the urge to wince immediately afterwards at his idea.

Fiddling with his gloves, Ken managed to hesitate for a few moments longer before finally mustering the motivation to enter the store. If she's not here then I'll just stop preoccupying my thoughts with her, he decided resolutely. His obsession with the woman was getting ridiculous seeing as he had no idea who she even was. It would just be classified as a passing infatuation and he'd let it go without a further tug of his heartstrings.

He barely remembered to give his usual smile to the shopkeeper who, if he had been paying attention, seemed grumpier than normal, muttering how their kind were getting far too ahead of themselves. Alas, Ken was too focused on heading to the back of the rows of shelves where the dark books he adored did lie. Reaching his destination, there was a second or so of silence, then a sigh.

A passing infatuation it is.

Turning, the sudden presence in front of the young man made him jump as red lips stretched into a smile.

"Hello, mister Ken."


Tea rooms were rampant throughout London. Quaint buildings, with swirling letters painted onto boards that boasted all of which they had to offer to their most esteemed visitors. Delicate cakes, carefully made biscuits, and, of course, an array of fine teas for customers to deliberate over. Inside such establishments was a place considered a haven by many and filled with such. Women, from the upper and middle classes alike, mingled without the weight of a chaperone's eyes constantly watching them.

Naturally, there were quite a number of individuals accompanied by men, however, the usual judgement on those who were without one was to be absent as these were rare places a woman could be alone in public.

As a result of the overpowering presence of the fairer sex, tea rooms were quite the spectacle to behold. Dresses coloured in almost every shade that could be observed under the sky and skirts that ruffled and swung as the wearer moved. Jewellery, that proclaimed the wealth of those who showed it off to friends as they glinted in the light, and elaborate hair pieces twisted into difficult hairstyles, marking the difference between those with personal maids and those without. Even the interior itself would be made to suit such women, aesthetically pleasing so that housewives could envy the style and gossip about it as they were supposed to do. And outside often lay a beautifully kept garden to stroll through on a friend or male's arm with tables to rest at.

"I must say, this tea is delightfully flavoured." A woman remarked within one of the highly regarded tea rooms, those sat around the same table as her immediately murmuring in agreement and offering their own thoughts on the hot beverage. One offered a smile as she nudged her companion sat beside her: a pretty girl with blueish eyes and an obvious disinterest in the conversation before her. Showing the barest hint of acknowledgement of the talk she was supposed to be engrossed in (much to the delight of her hazelnut-haired friend), her eyes drifted back to the small window she had been gazing out of, a man and woman passing in front of it with heads bowed in talk.

"Dear Kafka was quite the interesting novel, was it not?" The stunning creature that Ken had come to now know as Miss Rize Kamishiro strolled beside him, her arm every now and then brushing against his with her lips curved into a small smile as she did so. "I did so like the letter trick."

He could barely stop the smile of his own as they passed another rosebed, pausing to admire the flowers. "I must confess to it being a favourite of mine."

Rize, who had bent over a little to view a rose closer up, glanced up him through her eyelashes, another secretive smile appearing. "Our reading choices are delightfully similar it seems."

Ken willed the heat in his cheeks downwards so it would not show, barely able to resist the urge to somehow contact Hide and thank him profusely for pushing him to go meet the woman he was currently with. Rize had agreed without hesitation to his stumbling proposal to have tea together at the tea room Hide's mother frequented, and had been nothing but easy to converse with the entire time. She was witty and alluring in the way that all the women Ken knew were so decidedly not, which only served to make her all the more encompassing in his mind.

"So it does." He replied in what he hoped wasn't a feverish tone. The dull sense of someone's eyes on his back caused him to tilt his head to see a small group of women staring at him-or, more specifically, his companion, who had yet to finish her observations of the flowers. They whispered behind their gloved hands as they watched and Ken could practically hear what they were saying, snapping his head round in a mixture of embarrassment and anger.

Rize straightened her back, hands clasped in front of her. "Does my background bother you?"

"It should bother no one." Ken spoke in a more heated tone than usual, glad his look at the gaggle of women had sent them hurrying away. "You are as much of a woman as they are, possibly even more."

She tilted her head, hair brushing past her face as she did so. "You are quite unlike any gentleman I have met before, mister Ken. Most would rather die than be seen in public with someone like myself." Rize gestured to her clothing, practically ragged compared to the beautiful gowns of the other women inside the tea rooms.

"Then you have met many fools, Miss Kamishiro." Taking a calming breath, Ken glared at his feet, focusing on not allowing any colour to rise to his cheeks. "I apologize, I should not have let my temper flare in a lady's company."

"As a result of seeing women slander me? No, I am quite flattered that of all things would cause a decline in your mood." A hand gently placed itself on the inside of his arm, the woman having curled her arm around his. "I must insist you call me Rize, mister Ken. There is no need for such a formal address for someone such as myself." The self deprecating nature of her remark caused Ken's consequent smile to be a little strained, although the close proximity of her to him was enough to make it very forgettable.

"Of course then, Miss Rize."

Her red jewels around her wrist clinked softly together as she moved even closer to him, fingers tightening around his arm.


London changed during the night. The city people flocked to in order to follow their dreams and find their fortune quickly became the town of nightmares when the sun finally set.

Impressive buildings, lauded for their brilliant architecture, transformed into towering dark walls to the twisting, cobbled roads. Orange light emitted by the tall, black lampposts that in theory were supposed to make the streets less frightening instead caused long, sinister shadows that made many passersby jump. Even policemen making their patrols around the city seemed to scare people more than they did reassure them-although that partly had to do with the kind of unsavoury people who went out at night that feared the coppers in general.

In this darkness, Ken, who had never found much pleasure in drinking, suddenly found the pubs he passed, all filled with light and music and laughter, very appealing indeed. But the arm linked around his reminded him of the reason as to why he was walking the roads a wealthy, young gentleman like himself should not be taking after sunset.

"Hide is quite taken by the stories run on the murders." Ken told his beautiful companion. "I must also admit to having some interest myself."

"Oh, I agree!" Rize replied, gripping his arm a little tighter. "As terrifying as I find it all, it feels as though these events have been ripped right from a novel."

The two had lost themselves time-wise when taking a stroll through the park. So, as Ken's wish to act a perfect gentleman the entire time had aligned with the lack of cabs to ride in, he had accepted Rize's request for him to walk her home. Anyway, with recent gruesome events, being alone at night as a lady was most dangerous.

"Although, if this were to be a story, I would be inclined to write you as the dashing, young hero." Rize's words caused Ken to force down a blush.

"Ah, um, well, if you were cast as the heroine, I would gladly accept the role!" He stumbled over his words, the woman giggling and pressing herself into his side. The giddiness that rose in him made Ken momentarily forget all fear he had of the dark streets of London, finding courage he didn't know he had in the face of impressing his lady friend.

Halfway through another tale about his and Hide's adventurous childhood, Rize halted, interrupting the story to inform him that they were there. Ken finally took note of his surroundings that had been so secondary to the attention placed upon his companion. An old house lay before him, some windows boarded up with planks of rotting wood and others wide open, shabby curtains hanging out. Right beside the building was what looked like a large factory, no doubt filled with new-fangled machinery that was worked by the poor. The black smoke that would usually be billowing from its many large chimneys was absent due to the time of day and Ken felt the relief of being able to breathe semi-fresh air.

Twisting his neck, he saw the murky water of the River Thames roaring by, driftwood and litter swept along by the powerful currents. "You must have a nice view in the mornings." Ken offered somewhat weakly, Rize's small smile accentuated from the shadows the nearby lamppost was causing.

"I have never met a man as kind and polite as you are, mister Ken. There is no need for the pleasantries-this must seem quite the dump to someone from your background." She didn't wait for his stumbling excuses and apologies to have put forth such an impression, leaving his side to walk towards her door and unlock it. After doing so, she turned, hands clasped and shy smile upon her lips. "I suppose this must be improper considering the circumstances however, since I guess I too am rather improper, would you care to stay for a while?"

It was quite the improper invitation. Men visited their lady friends at this time of night for one reason alone and there had been many a young man exiled from the social circle his wealth had placed him in for going to a home of a pretty woman after dark. However

Ken glanced left and right. There was nobody around and, even if there had been, they wouldn't be anyone of high enough social status to tell on him. Anyway, he was a proper gentleman and Rize knew that. She had to in order to even raise such an offer! Nothing would happen other than nice conversation, perhaps the finishing of the tale he'd been spinning for her?

Stepping towards her, he bowed his head. "I would be honoured, Miss Rize."

She giggled and held out her hand, drawing him inside the ragged old house and letting the door slam shut behind him. "I live in the apartment on the top floor." She explained as she led him slowly up a spiraling staircase. "It is small, however, since it is just me living there, it is quite the cosy place. Nothing extravagant like your home must be though."

Ken felt himself smiling back, allowing himself to be tugged along. "I find that I prefer cosiness to extravagance."

"Oh, mister Ken, that can't possibly be true!" Rize laughed, the sound making his stomach churn pleasantly. The stairs creaked as they climbed the last few steps, a wooden door with peeling red paint greeting them. Rize opened it, gesturing for him to follow after her as she went in and grabbed a box of matches. The dim light made it difficult for Ken to make out much of the interior of her home although he wasn't able to pause for long, being led into a different, small room. Lighting a match, Rize used it to light an oil lamp fixed to a wall.

It was her bedroom, Ken realized upon seeing the bed, and he opened his mouth to declare that this really wasn't proper now only to close it. She'd told him her apartment was small, hadn't she? To request they settle somewhere else might upset her as this could easily be the only room big enough for them to be comfortable. "I need to light the other lamps." Rize told him with a soft smile, guilt wrecking through Ken's mind at the idea he could have so easily offended her just because he thought something was improper. "Would you mind awfully if I left you alone for a few minutes?"

"Not at all-I can help you if you would like." Ken offered.

Another laugh of tinkering bells left her red lips. "Do not trouble yourself with such a menial task! I am the one who requested your company here after all." She left before he could insist upon helping, leaving him alone in her bedroom. Ken stared at the point she'd just been in for a few moments, gaze then slipping around the room.

The bed was smaller than his own with simple, white sheets as opposed to his richly coloured ones. A dresser sat to his side, mirrors dusty and old and surfaces covered with bottles. In the corners of the room the deep red wallpaper that covered the walls peeled away a little, a small draft making it flap about. The most interesting thing about the room was the stack of books piled up beside her bed, recognizable authors making up a great deal of them. Sen Takatsuki's name was printed on several towards the top where Ken assumed the most commonly read books were and he traced his fingers across the cover of one.

If it weren't for this author I might never have made dear Miss Rize's acquaintance, he mused, more than grateful to this writer he'd never met before. His eyes drifted over to the open window and Ken made his way over to it, peering out. Her room faced the factory, he noticed, large slanted windows below allowing him to peer down at the dark shapes of giant machines. In the night light they looked like mechanical monsters with open jaws, waiting for him to fall into their mouths.

"Mister Ken."

Ken turned at the call of his name, mouth twisting into a smile before he froze, eyes wide.

Rize stood in the doorway, lips looking a deeper red than ever in the dim light, purple hair seeming practically black too. However, instead of seeing the usual worn dress, most of her skin was bare. The corset that kept her waist so attractively thin was in full view and he could see the pale skin of her breasts almost spilling over the top of the article of clothing. Her petticoat showed the shape of her legs much more than her dress had and she'd gathered up part of the skirt in one hand, showing off far too much skin than was appropriate for a Victorian lady. Practically the only thing she hadn't taken off from earlier was the red jewels attached to the black cord around her wrist, no longer looking as pretty as they were sharp.

"M-Miss Rize?!" Ken half squeaked, face burning as she sashayed towards him. Once she was close enough to reach out and touch, he backed up against a wall, pressing himself into it to get as far away as possible. "This- please, I implore you, your clothing-!"

Rize took one more step, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. "Mister Ken, you are hilarious." She whispered, smile stretching into a grin that was more predatory than it was welcoming. "I never met a man who would walk with such happiness with a whore on his arm like you."

Realization cut him like a dagger.

Oh.

Oh good God.

Laughter than had earlier been so beautiful mocked him when Rize saw the horror in his eyes, her thumb rubbing his face gently. A prostitute, Lord, how had he not noticed she was a prostitute?! No proper lady would invite a man into their home at this time of night and she'd even told him she was improper so- God, what had he done?!

Ken lifted his hands to push her away only for them to hover because where on earth could he touch her? Licking his lips nervously, he cleared his throat, meaning to somehow explain that this was some horrible mistake and he'd never meant to hire a prostitute, he'd just thought-

Pain bloomed in his left arm and his right hand moved to clutch at it just as a small knife was wrenched from his skin. Blood seeped through his shirt and he cried out, stumbling to the side and falling. Twisting his neck to see who it was that had attacked him, only Rize was there, something metallic and stained with red clutched in her hand. "Did you know, mister Ken, there's this one scene in the Black Goat's Egg that I really do adore." She crooned as the young man stared up at her. "When the Black Goat catches their victim and rips out all their entrails…"

Lifting the knife to her lips, she licked the blunt edge, blood staining her tongue. "It does not matter how many times I read that part. It just never fails to make me...shudder!" Rize lunged forwards, Ken scrambling to his feet and dodging to the side. Panic had overtaken all common sense and he grabbed the first thing he could, one of the bottles on the dresser, hurling it at her. It smashed against her shoulder and she snarled, perfume flowing into the cuts he'd made. "You're the first one to put up a fight, mister Ken!" she hissed, stabbing at him again with wild eyes. "Then again-" another swipe "-those men are usually too busy putting it up in my thing to care!"

The adrenaline caused him to barely notice her crude language, throwing himself backwards to avoid one stabbing motion only to not feel the floor beneath his head. Glass broke beneath his back, shards cutting away at his clothes and skin. It did break his fall somewhat however and Ken landed in a painful albeit alive mess. His head felt as though it was full of cotton wool and he lay there in a sea of shattered glass from the broken factory skylight.

Through his blurred, teary vision he thought he saw Rize scuttering down the drain connected to her house, white petticoat a beacon in the darkness of the night. Fear trumped all feeling of pain and he started to drag himself across the floorboards of the factory, a thin trail of blood following behind the young man. Help me helpmehelpmeohdearLordhelpme! Pulling himself behind one of the many machines he'd earlier likened to monsters, Ken's own breathing sounded like a hurricane to himself, one injured hand moving to cover his mouth.

The sound of glass crunching underneath shoes.

"Mister Ken? Where are you, mister Ken?!" The sing-song voice made his heart beat painfully against his ribcage. "You know I do so love gentlemen like you. Their innocent smiles and lovestruck little faces do things to me that you wouldn't believe." Footsteps getting closer, Idon'twanttodiehelpmeplease. "It makes the betrayal all that…" She swung her head around the machine he was hiding behind, face covered in cuts the oozed the same colour as her lips. "Sweeter."

Ken's mouth opened to scream as the knife was driven towards his chest only for the noise to be replaced by a completely different shriek. Slumping against the floor, Ken watched as Rize suddenly started moving away from him. Another sound began to chime in, that of cogs moving and machinery creaking although Ken was unable to tell if it was real or conjured up by the blood loss. As his vision began to darken, something flew through the air that looked much like a hand. The last thing he heard was two jewels rolling across the floor.


Victorian Slang

Rozzers: policemen

Three-penny-uprights: cheap and up against the wall prostitutes

Toffer: posh prostitute

Putting it up my thing: fairly self explanatory ('thing' also just in general used to refer to a lady's private parts)


WELL this has finally reached the light of day after being in the works for quite literally months

Really the only reason I'm writing this is because I'm not skilled enough at drawing to create a casual Victorian AU on tumblr so can someone please take this idea from me and do it all properly before I mess it up 'kay thanks