~Dancing With The Devil ~

Chapter One: My Name

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater, or any of its characters.

Maka POV

I always thought of myself as a good girl. I always kept my head down, eyes forward and thoughts to myself. I mind my manners and try my best to help people when needed, even when it was not always in my best interest. I am thoughtful, polite, and generous to those I am closest to. So, why it this happening to me?

I lay beaten on the ground of a dark, narrow alleyway, with a heavily bruised eye, what feels like multiple broken bones and a knife sticking out of my abdomen. My left shoulder burns when I move it; my shirt is thick with blood from the wound and I can feel a dull throbbing in my head. I am slowly losing conscienceness, and trying everything in my power to stay awake. I hear shrill screams from in front of me and I feel the heat of the encroaching fire. The bright hearth was creeping closer with every passing minute, the thick smoke surrounding and threatening to suffocate me.

While I lay useless on the ground, the men step forward again. I know what they want, and with me in the condition I am in right now, they could probably take it. I try my best to crawl away from their shadows, but collapse.

"Well, well, well," Sneers the man in the dark brown suit, "Looks like you have finally stopped struggling!" He lets out a loud, course laugh as he places one heavy foot on my back. "I thought for sure we were going to kill you! Now, be a nice little girl and stay still, this will all be over soon!"

I feel his hand grasp a fist full of my hair and I cry out in pain as he roughly lifts me from the asphalt floor. His second hand wraps tightly around my throat and he slams me into the closest wall. I can feel his hot breath on my face, the sickening scent of musk and rotting flesh fills my nostrils as he leans in closer and smells my neck.

"You know, this could have ended completely different," he whispers in my ear, his hand leaves my hair and slowly makes it's way down my body. "If you had just given in, if you had only learned to shut you big, fucking mouth, it could have been quick and painless-"

"Speak for yourself Noah! I would have done horrible things to that bitch!"

A high, booming laugh was coming from the entrance of the alleyway, followed by a series of deep coughs. The smoke seemed to be getting thicker, the blaze burning wilder and more intense than before.

"Hurry up, we don't have much time! I don't plan on dying here because you wanted a quick fuck before we have to leave! Asura's gonna be pissed if we keep him waiting much longer!" the second man takes a couple steps forward, his shadow looming over our bodies.

The man before me sighed deeply and retracted his face a few inches; just enough to yell at his arrogant companion. "It won't work if the bitch it breached! I know I can't penetrate the girl," he turns a devilish eye to me and gives a small smirk, "But he said nothing about touching..." his hand wandered shamelessly down my side and to the hem of my skirt, stopping to brush the flesh just below the fabric.

"Seriously? I mean, she was alright before, but now she's torn to shit. It would be like fondling someone else's used meat-"

"Enough, Giriko! If you wanna leave, then get the fuck out of here! I'm not forcing you to stay!" snares the man directly in front of me, his hand slowly reaching up my skirt. He nips on my ear and whispers "We're going to have some fun..."

A tear runs down my face and I bite my dry, swollen lip to prevent myself from crying out loud. I couldn't give him the satisfaction, I couldn't let him know he was breaking me. It's becoming harder to stay awake, between the smoke searing my lungs, the agonizing gash in my shoulder, and the knife wound, I start to lose what little life I have left. Just before I completely lose consciousness, I feel the hands of the brown suited man leave, and my body drop to the ground. I look up, and see a new man standing above me. I taken back slightly as I stare at him; he has white hair, bits of debris and ash lacing the tips as well as a dark substance. His right arm is soaked in blood, his light orange shirt and black leather jacket covered in burns and yet, he wears a smirk on his face.

"Who the he-"

The brown suit man was silenced with one solid punch to the face, his body flung across the ally to where the man named Giriko stood. The orange shirted man laughed, and stood inbetween the men and I.

"Who the bloody fuck do you think you are?!" Screeched Giriko off in the distance.

The man chuckles and sighs deeply, "Isn't that the question on everyone's mind?"

"Do you have any idea who the fuck you are dealing with here?!"

"Oh yes, I do indeed," laughs the man in orange, "And I have to admit, I have been waiting a long time to meet you two assholes!" His head flies back with the force of his laugh, he stops long enough to glance back at me. I let out a small gasp as his crimson eyes bore profoundly into my Harlequin*.

Those eyes, I knew them. They could only belong to one person, but why is he here?

"Gentleman," his low, growling voice reverberating off the walls, "I'm going to have you begging for death!"

And with those last words, everything fades to black.

My name is Maka Alburn, I am an eighteen year old, college freshman. I stand about five foot, four inches and probably weigh 110 pounds when I'm soaking wet. Before you ask; I am NOT anorexic. I just have a very good metabolism, thank you very much. I have thin, dirty blonde hair that reaches almost half way down my back and bangs in the front. I'm as pale as a ghost and as flat as a board, and I'm not just talking about my chest either. I lack what some people refer to as a 'figure', I am commonly mistaken for a child and often get carded for the simplest of things (ie; 'R' rated books at the library). Whenever I look at myself in the mirror, all I can think of is the shade 'grey' and all the terms associated with it. Boring, dull, plain, flat, stiff, dingy, dusty, drab. I am a colour without colour. The only thing that stands out on me are my eyes; bright green or Harlequin as I like to call them. Without them, I'm sure I would be mistaken for a cardboard cut-out and tossed with the rest of the recycling.

I currently live in Death City, Nevada with my less-than-great father, Spirit Alburn. My mother had died in what police officials call 'a freak accident', when I was only 10 and I haven't been the same since. I vowed to keep to myself and never do anything that may put me in danger, but that can get complicated when you have a womanizing, lush of a father. There have been times in my life where I have come home to a trashed living room, obscenities carved into the walls and furniture. I have walked in twice while men were beating my father for money he owed or women he has been intimate with. Each time I was just barely able to escape without any physical damage to myself.

Due to all of our 'family problems', we have moved dozens of times, never staying in one place longer then a year and because of this I never had a chance to make any good friends. Sure, I communicated well with school mates and hung out occasionally after school, but no friends worth keeping in contact with. I had only one true friend growing up, but that was while my mother was still alive. His name was Crona, and although he was a very timid individual, he was always there for me. Ever since I lost contact with Crona, I've tried to distance myself to avoid getting attached to any new people, I knew my father all too well; we would always be moving soon.

This time, however, things are going to be different. Begrudgingly and after much arguing and weeping (on my father's part), Papa and I decided to live in separate apartments from one another, so that I could keep out of all his business and stay in the college that I tried so hard to get into. Although he had many concerns regarding my well being, I managed to persuade him that I would be fine. For the first time in 8 long years, I feel like I can finally live like a normal girl. That is, if my father decides to leave me alone for 5 minutes.

"Papa, I swear I will be fine, you don't have to stay here," I mumble into one of my couch cushions; my patience already thin from a similar argument we had the previous evening, "It kinda defeats the purpose if you are here all time, people will start coming here looking for you and we will have to move again."

He was cooking something in my small alley kitchen, peeking his head around the corner to catch a better look at my face, "You look so thin, Maka! Your Papa just wants to take care of you! You're a growing girl after all-"

I growl at the man and throw a small pillow in his direction, it bounced neatly off the wall and landed with a soft 'thud' to the hardwood floor below. "How many damn times do I have to tell you? I am eighteen years old! I am legally an adult! You need to stop treating and talking to me like a child!" my words were sharp and I knew they would cut the over-sensitive parent, but he had to learn some time.

"I am just trying to spend a little time with my beautiful daughter, is that so wrong?" Papa comes out of the kitchen carrying two plates filled with food; bacon, eggs, toast, an impressive variety of cut fruits, and yogurt. He sets mine down in front of me and sits on the chair across from me, worry written all over his face.

"It wouldn't be such a problem if you kept your affairs in order, instead of pissing people off and having the scum of the Earth knocking on our door! Seriously, how the hell do you even find these people?" I pick up a piece of bacon and pop it into my mouth, savoring the bitter, salty taste.

"Watch your language, Maka. You know I don't like it when you curse," for the first time in ages, he gives me a stern, authoritive look. He has always tried harder to be more of a friend than a parental figure, so when he does go into father mode, it catches me off guard.

"S-sorry," I glance down at my plate and poke at my eggs, "It's just... hard for me to understand you sometimes. I can't fathom why you keep getting yourself into these situations knowing that they usually explode in both our faces."

He reaches forward with a somber look in his eye and grabs my hand. I can feel him shake as he encloses my tiny hands in his, never breaking eye contact. "Maka, I know these problems cause you great stress and I know how much it breaks your heart when we have to move. I'm sorry to cause you all this pain. Please understand, it was never my intention to be so reckless and irresponsible, but there are some times when I lose control of myself. My job is very demanding, it introduces me to a lot of scummy people and whether I like it or not, it's my job to deal with them-"

"Then why not just quit," I interrupt, getting a little frustrated with the same old excuse every time I bring it up. I know what he will say next, like everything else he has said to me, this justification is well used.

"I have no qualifications to find a new job," I roll my eyes, extracting my hands from his and returning them to my cooling breakfast.

"You could always go back to school."

"And who will pay for it? How could we both survive if I stopped working?" moaned my father under his breath. Great, now he's going to start getting mopey. I better change the topic before he starts with the 'you're so beautiful and grown up' rant, otherwise he'll be a crying mess and I'll never get him to leave.

"Maka," he uttered in a soft voice, "You are a grown woman. I respect that you are growing into a wise, and intelligent individual. Please-" and with that, I stood and walked into my kitchen, ignoring everything the man was trying to weep to me.

I can hear my father wailing from the kitchen, his cries have always been loud enough to raise the dead. I guess I should go calm him down and make him leave, maybe we can have a proper discussion some other time. After scraping the remainder of my breakfast, I returned to my father with a glass of water and a semi-sympathetic expression on my face.

"Papa, as much as I love your visits, I think it's time for you to leave."

"I'm j-just so w-worried about you!" he choked, his hands and hair create a curtain covering his puffy eyes.

"I'm a big girl, I can handle myself just fine!"

"But what if they come here Maka? What if they have planted a bug o-or so-some kind of camera? I couldn't live with myself if those mean men did something to my precious Maka!" he cried, jumping over the table to embrace me. He has been so clingy ever since we separated.

"Who have you pissed off now?" I snapped, pushing against his broad shoulders.

"No one!" there was a tinge of pain in his voice and a shocked look on his tear-streaked face, "I just don't want you to get hurt! You are my baby-"

"What the hell did I tell you?!" I cut in, completely enraged by his comment, "I told you not even five minutes ago, Papa! You don't have to talk to me like I'm a five year old! And they wouldn't know where I live if you didn't keep coming here! Seriously Papa, no more surprise visits!" I snapped, trying to pry a weeping Papa off me.

"But Maka-"

"No buts! Leave! I can handle things on my own! If you want to see me, call first so we can find another place to meet!"

I finally manage to break free of my father's grasp, walking towards to door. "Please leave, I have a lot of things to do before I start school tomorrow and I can't have you here distracting me!" I open the door and gesture to the hall way; a defeated Papa complies.

"I love you Maka..." he says with a tear streaked face.

"I love you too," and with those last words said, I slam the door shut and walk over to my couch. Flopping down, I let out a sigh, "This is going to be a long day..."

If only I really knew.

I just want to thank everyone for their patience with me! This was my first fanfiction and I really wanted to make it something to be proud of!

This chapter is literally twice the length of the original, and now that I have a much clearer plot line going on, I thought that it would be a good idea to put some references in here! If you didn't read the original version, it's okay; I more or less just added on to it.

Thanks again for all of your support, please feel free to leave a comment, question or suggestion in the box below and let me know if you liked the changes or preferred the original better!

Thank you for reading Dancing With The Devil! See ya next time!