Chapter One

The small, blue-blanketed bundle squirmed in the arms of the scientist holding it while it was being examined critically. The baby was a boy, blond with blue eyes that would almost certainly change to a darker color; he was a thin baby, but healthy, perfectly so, who regarded everyone around him with a curious and skeptical eye. He didn't cry and the scientist expected he probably wouldn't for a while.

Spencer walked over and observed the child with a smile. "Wonderful," he said softly. "He's perfect. We'll call this one Albert."

The scientist stared into the analytical baby-blue eyes of Number 013 and sighed, placing the baby in the car to be taken away.

Seven Years Later

Albert sat at the table, staring down at the pristine white tablecloth, unmarred by food particles or stains. His mother sat next to him at the table, small hand clutching his even smaller one as his father ranted on the telephone with someone from his job.

He looked up, green eyes meeting the soft brown of hers, a questioning glance.

She ran a hand through the fine blond hair on top of his head, then sighed, examining her free hand. He noted that they where lily-white and fine, with long, elegant fingers, much like his.

It was perhaps the only physical resemblance he bore to either of his parents. His father had dark, hungry black eyes and black hair in a military cut, his mother with soft auburn curls cut short and pinned close to her head.

His father cleared his throat, shooting Edith a pointed glare. "Albert, go upstairs and finish your homework, then go to bed."

"Yes, sir," the boy said softly, standing and starting up the stairs. He only pretended to go to his room, instead choosing to sit at the top of the stairs so he could catch the conversation he knew they were about to have.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him," he heard Edith whisper. Feeling a stab of pity for his mother for what he knew was coming, he listened and for and was rewarded with the expected slap from Frank.

"And you'd have him grow up soft and weak!" the cold man hissed. "Edith, he's not like the other children! We have to treat him like he's different!"

"He's just a boy!" Edith shouted, making Albert jump. He'd never heard her raise her voice. "He's a child, Frank!"

Albert scrambled to his room as he heard his father coming up the stairs, splaying books across his bed and pretending to work diligently.

His father opened the door. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice chilling.

Albert glanced up, and then back down. "Homework," he said softly.

"Liar!" Frank shouted, making the small boy jump again. He cried out as his father grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the stairs. "Stand in the corner, boy!" he roared.

The phone rang downstairs as Albert stood with his nose to the corner. He knew he'd be standing here until his father told him to move, and if he was found crying or sitting down, it would be another hour before he was allowed to go to bed.

Frank stormed downstairs to answer the phone. After a moment, the front door opened. "Edith, I'm needed at work. He's not to move until I come back."

Feeling hot tears spill down his face in spite of the threat of punishment, Albert obediently stayed in the corner. He stood for hours upon hours until, finally, his vision went black.

He woke with his father standing over him, features twisted in fury.

"Sleeping, are we?" he growled out. Albert was honestly surprised he could speak at this point. He cried out as he was dragged up by his hair. "Well, it seems you've got your rest for tonight. Let's just stay up all night now, yeah?"

Albert whimpered as his father dragged him down the stairs. "Edith, go to bed. Albie and I are going to stay up all night."

She looked horrified. "Frank..."

"Shut up, Edith, and go upstairs!" he shouted. "Go to bed! I'll handle this little brat!"

He sat Albert down at the kitchen table and prepared a cup of coffee for himself. "Don't you dare fall asleep, boy," he hissed, sitting down across from him. "Or it'll be a lashing for you."

Albert swallowed back a sob, determined to stay awake.

Every time he'd close his eyes for too long, he'd get a kick in the shins. He started each time, tears springing to his eyes. He nodded once, and was rewarded with a slap to the face.

Six hours was spent like this, and finally, dawn came. His father dismissed him to get ready for school. "And you'll be walking today, boy," he growled, heading to bed himself.

Albert sniffled, rubbing his eyes and going to his room to put his clothes on. He was so tired.

His mother helped him dress, eyes filled with tears of pity. He held his weak little arms up as she pulled the dark blue shirt over his head, and then put his gray jacket on him. "I'm so sorry, Albert," she whispered, touching his cheek. His eyes slid closed, and she shook him gently. "Don't fall asleep, darling. Try to stay awake in school."

"Why don't we leave Father?" he asked softly, leaning against her. "If we left him, he wouldn't hurt us."

"Darling, we can't leave," she whispered. "He's just trying to help you... he just doesn't know how."

Not really understanding, Albert nodded and finished dressing himself as Edith combed his hair. "I hate him," he whispered, rubbing his tired little eyes.

She only sighed, parting his hair to the left and combing it back. Edith tried to smile, but it was marred by the bruise on her cheek. "There's my handsome little gentleman," she whispered, stroking his cheek gently. "Maybe tonight you'll get a decent sleep. Just do what you're told, dear heart."

He nodded, hugging his mother and grabbing his books. "Goodbye, Mother," he said, going down the stairs and out the front door.

Albert nearly collapsed from exhaustion once he finally arrived at school, pale and sweaty. His bright emerald eyes were dulled slightly, surrounded by dark circles. He looked ill. The teachers could tell, but there was nothing they could do to help him. They had too many other children to deal with.

After a while, it was all he could do to hold his head up. It was in Miss Shrine's class.

Miss Shrine was a short, squat woman with a wide, red-lipsticked mouth and a nose that turned up. The other boys had nicknamed her Madame Pig. She was probably the vilest, most foul-tempered woman on the face of the earth.

And Albert fell asleep in the middle of a lecture on proper punctuation.

It wasn't long before she walked over to his desk and swatted the back of his neck with a meterstick, causing to sit up straight with a cry of pain.

"That's your first, boy," growled the miserably evil old woman. "Your second will come when you stand up to walk with me to the headmaster so I can call your father."

Albert's eyes widened in fear. "No! Please, don't—"

"Sleeping in class? Hmph!" She dragged him up by the ear (which was beginning to feel like it was going to detach from his head) and swatted his backside, which made him cry out again and leap into the air, causing his ear to be pulled again. Tears sprang to his eyes as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist. "Please, Miss Shrine, I didn't mean to... I didn't sleep at all last night! It was an accident! Please don't call my father!"

She hmphed again, leading him to the office.

In an act of desperation, Albert's fingers squeezed her wrist, trying to get her to let go of his ear. Both hands on it now, he wrenched her hand back and heard something snap at the same moment she gave a horrible, blood-curdling cry.

Miss Shrine gripped her broken wrist, crying out again. "You broke my hand, you filthy little boy! I'll kill you!" she screeched. "I'll kill you! I don't care what you are!"

She threw herself at him, and Albert grabbed the only weapon he could find to protect himself: a neatly-sharpened pencil. As her hands, bent and gnarled, fingernails sharp as claws, reached for his throat, beady black eyes aflame, they both let out a battle yell as the pencil went flying, clutched by trembling white fingers, toward her short, fat neck.

A/N: Two reviews and I'll post the next chapter :3