(A/N: Yadda yadda yadda I don't own Kuroshitsuji, Yana Toboso does, yadda yadda yadda. Anyway, this is a threeshot, from three perspectives, Lizzy, Madam Red and Ciel when the Manor burned down. Starting with the little-mentioned Madam Red today, kiddies!)

(A/N: Who loves rewrites? WE ALL DO! Joking. But this chapter was pretty crap, so it needed some extensive rewrites. Have fun reading, AGAIN. I think that I basically wrote a new story, because it is now very different.)


Red has always been a color to be reckoned with. Few admired it, calling it passionate, and romantic. Not exactly things that were cherished in the chaste Victorian Era.

It was once said that those with red hair were jinxed. Red had rarely been a color with which good things were associated. Spilt blood, strained eyes, and blazing rage. Even as a child, I knew this. Whispers around the hall spoke of a sad little girl with bright, crimson locks and a musing disposition. If any ventured upon a compliment, it would be 'sweet'. Never lovely, beautiful, or even pretty.

Until the day 'that man' called my hair beautiful. Those few words, that I'm sure even he had forgotten after they escaped his lips, suddenly made red a happy color. For a while, even I was happy. I changed, and became cheery. I powdered my nose, wore bright dresses, and worried about love. My parents were shocked yet euphoric. Until it happened again, as always. My curse.

Red had stained every happy memory I'd had.

When I fell in love with 'that man', after he compared my hair to bright, lovely flowers.

Red. Like the dress I wore on the damned day he married my beloved older sister.

The birth of their child.

Red. Like Rachel's blood that he was dyed with moments after his first breath.

My own happy -albeit short- marriage to a man who loved and cared for me unconditionally.

Red. Like the blood splattered in the carriage that sealed the fates of him, my unborn child, and any chance of having the thing that I wanted most.

Red was always with me. Whether I loved or hated it, embraced it to my chest with both arms or shoved it away with all of my being, it was unavoidable. Inevitable, waiting to scoop me up, enveloping anything I had. What did I do to deserve this? Tell me, how have I wronged the heavens to deserve such a cruel fate?

Vivid red. It painted the manor of the home in which my dear sister, 'that man', and my little Ciel lived. And died in.

Flames burst out of the manse, engulfing everything that they could touch, fire consuming all of my vision. It was horrible and beautiful. Red, red, red. The color that I was born with, was filled with, was meant to be. Red consumed all, every part of me. Something broke inside myself that day, staring at the once beautiful manor being demolished. My weak body was wrapped in the rich heat. It was like a mother's arms, clutching my to her chest with its safety and warmth. It was so hauntingly, exquisitely bewitching. After watching rapturously, I began to laugh. Nothing mattered anymore. Everything that I loved was taken, by that color. Years and years of pure, unseated madness bubbled out of me. The laughter was uncontrollable. Tears of joy and sadness ran down my pallid cheeks in equal measure, until they glowed heartily from the sheer exertion.

And soon enough there was no Angelina Dalles left.

Only Madam Red.


Going back to work was helpful, a bit. It distracted me from the hellish reality that was the twisted shambles of my former life, the one I had burnt away. But those women. Those selfish sluts. They had everything that I ever could have wanted, and tossed it like it was trash into a bin. Listening to them, made my blood boil. Performing surgery on them made me want to scream. What little part of myself that had healed was consumed by the red fury boiling inside of my soul. The red rage roiled for so long, that yet another me was born, like a phoenix through fire.

Jack the Ripper. That was damned right. I made sure that each of my patients were ripped open completely. When I first heard it used in society, I feigned shock, just as the other noble ladies. But hid my face behind a scarlet fan and smiled madly.

"What a tragedy, those poor, lost souls…"

Filthy liars, the lot of them. As the cases piled up, their concern became lackluster. They knew who the Ripper was targeting. And it sure as hell wasn't them.

The name that they gave my murderous alter ego seemed unimaginative. Like a an organ monkey scrounging for change in the filthy slums. Well, I was looking for something there, but it was certainly not paltry pennies. Rather, it was the lives of the ungrateful wenches who dared to throw away the most precious thing; A child's life. I decided, if they didn't want their wombs, they didn't need them. Or their lives, the filthy whores. Fair was fair.

It was during one particularly gruesome episode that I met my dazzling red reaper. He… sympathized with my childlessness, and decided to help me. He always thought that I was at my most irresistible. The crimson red mistress and the vivid red reaper.

Several months after that, my little Ciel came back with a butler. All clad in black, like the darkest ash from a great fire. He gave off an aura of entrapment, like a lion toying with a deer before devouring it whole. It unsettled me, seeing him behind Ciel. It may have been a butler's duty, but he looked, possessive. He called himself Sebastian, after that great black dog that had also been consumed by the flame. I didn't trust him. But at least one precious thing was back. My nephew, who cried so weakly in my arms when he was born. Just looking at my Ciel reminded me of that ill-made day. When the 'that man', whom I loved so much was taken, and my dear sister as well.

The fire, when the last of my life had been snatched from me. By that color, my pride and my curse.

Vivid red.


(A/N: So, whatcha think? Reviews are appreciated, thanks. And with the whole rewrite thing, how was that?)