The boy's eyes were open a slither, and light reflected from the puddles of rain and made his eyes—what little of them could be seen—glimmer with light as raindrops fell from his long eyelashes. His upper body was traced in liquids redder than wine, a fluid so familiar that as the smell wafted toward her unsuspecting nose, she felt her stomach heave and her guts begin to leap. Flashes of memories, changing every second to a different one—all of them contained this evil fluid.

And then they all came to a shattering halt as she felt him gently grab her arm and turn her toward him. Claude had got down to her level and he touched her chin with his fingers, urging her eyes to his. His eyes were alive and golden, and Elizabeth felt herself become revived at his familiar gaze.

"Please, miss…" He raised his other hand and wiped away a tear she hadn't known had fallen. "We don't want you to get sick again."

Elizabeth swallowed, her throat now dry. She felt her stomach cease its uplift and his fingers were still on her chin, causing her to shiver. Claude said to her, as he stood, "I shall take care of this properly."

"N-no!" Elizabeth grabbed his sleeves, stopping him. "He—c-could still be alive—!"

Claude smiled at her concern for a mere stranger. "I am highly aware of that." He bent down and whispered in her ear, so no other servants heard this exchange. He whispered: "I can still hear his faint little heart beating in his chest."

Elizabeth pulled away, swallowing as her butler smiled seductively. "Maria," he requested, though still looking down on his mistress with intense eyes. "Please escort Lady Elizabeth to bed."

"But what about the boy—?"

"I shall handle him. Once you've finished putting our mistress to bed, you may come down and assist me."

Maria, though unsatisfied, took hold of Elizabeth's shoulders and guided her up the stairs. She didn't protest. She trusted Claude and knew he would take care of everything.

It hurt that Elizabeth could not trust Maria with such things.

Maria, with a gentle hold of Elizabeth's shoulders, urged her toward her bedroom, up the staircase and through the dimly lit halls. When they approached the bedroom, the room was dark and cold, and Maria lit a candle as she walked the young girl to her bed. Elizabeth's eerie silence alarmed the housemaid, as if she were reliving a past that should have been forgotten.

Her silence spoke of a dark and bloody past.

A past that Maria knew too well of.

Elizabeth settled into the bed and faced the window. Maria was still a moment before stammering, "G-goodnight, Mistress."

There was no reply. Maria stood there for a long while, contemplating if she should stay until she fell asleep or simply leave. The unnerving silence in the usually bright room made her uneasy, and she questioned why she even considered the latter.

Her grieving mistress might need her comfort…

But this noble's pride was too strong to request comfort from a housemaid. A housemaid, of all things.

But all else considered…after what Maria had done, she should never be allowed to be in her mistress's presence.


Elizabeth slept a long time and when she awoke, she was rejuvenated in all sense of the word. She awoke to the same, familiar words she heard almost—almost—every morning.

"Mistress, your morning tea is ready."

Elizabeth sat up and stretched, arms high in the air. Considering the amount of sleep she got, she was surprised to be so awake.

Claude placed the tea in her hands and treaded to the window to throw open the light-absorbing velvet curtains. Sunlight poured into the room, and, for an odd reason, she wasn't instantly repelled by the sun. She basked in the light and warmth it gave, and it made her eyes widen a bit to take in more of the world. She lifted the cup of steaming tea t her lips—

And nearly choked when she gasped in sudden remembrance of last night. The boy. The boy…

She opened her mouth, but Claude surprised her with an amused smile. "He's awake. And he's waiting to meet his caretaker."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, nodded, and anxiously let Claude dress her. Then he guided her down the hallway to the east wing of the manor, where the guest bedrooms resided, and paused at the door. Her butler turned to her.

"I would like to tell you what I've seen of him so you know what to expect when you walk in. The scars are deep, and the majority will stay on him forever. From the look of his injuries, he seems to have been tortured for many years, because some scars have already faded. He also seems to have been the victim of rape and perversion."

"That's awful."

"Yes, quite." Claude then knocked gently on the large door. When there was no answer, he proceeded to walk in, letting Elizabeth follow suit.

Her eyes glanced around the room. This guest bedroom hadn't been used in years, and she questioned why Claude would use this one. Probably so as not to get blood on any of the used ones.

Elizabeth's eyes traveled to the bed, where she saw a figure sitting upward. He was tall and lanky, and extremely pale. Then again, who wouldn't be pale after bleeding all over someone's front porch?

She saw a shock of white blonde hair, and skin a shade paler than snow. He was looking out the window, where a pair of lovebirds were flittering around in circles. He seemed entranced, until he heard not one—but two pairs of feet striding toward his bed. Startled, he turned and set eyes on her. Elizabeth made a sharp intake of breath, suddenly nervous, and unreal visions flashed in her mind of him dashing to the corner of the bedroom, frightened. But he didn't do that.

His eyes rested on her, and she met his gaze. His eyes were the color of rainwater, not the type of blue of Ciel's at all, but a lighter, somewhat drearier version. His lips were parted slightly, proving her theory that he had been in a trance-like state, most likely caused by trauma. She shivered unwittingly.

And then he blinked and sat up straighter, as if thinking, Oh! It's a girl! He shut his lips tight.

"Hello," Elizabeth said softly. "I just thought I'd visit my guest."

The boy's cheeks flushed pure red, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it, looking dumbfounded. He turned his embarrassed gaze to his lap.

Elizabeth couldn't help it. She giggled slightly. "I am Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford." He looked at her, a bit panicked. She smiled. She didn't mean to toy with him; it kind of just came naturally. "But you may call me Lizzy, if you like."

"L-Lizzy?"

"Yes," she clarified. "And what is your name?"

"J-Jim. Jim Macken."

"It's nice to meet you, Jim Macken. Tell me, are you hungry?" Elizabeth leaned forward on her toes.

Jim's eyes widened, suddenly excited at the thought of food. "Yes, miss. I am!" His quiet voice rises, and Elizabeth likes the change in atmosphere.

"Then, please," Elizabeth said, approaching the bed he sat in as she held out her hand, "may I escort you to the dining hall? Claude has prepared us something wonderful!"

Jim looked at her hand, seemed to fall into trust with it, and gently took it. She noticed how his hand shook gently, and it was covered in purple blotches of injured skin. He pulled the covers off himself, and stood beside her, and she realized he was a lot taller than her, by almost a head. She pulled her eyes away from his patched chest, surprised he was able to stand with the injuries, and grinned at his now blank face.

"Claude can help you get dressed and then he will escort you to the dining hall where you can feast to your heart's content!"

His face filled with smile, and then it faded back to his parted lip form. Confused, she watched his eyes become glazed and watery.

"Thank you!" he cried. And then, with sudden fluidness, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the ground. A show of respect in Japan, she remembered from her fluent studies.

Embarrassed at the display, Elizabeth bent downward and patted his bare back, his skin warm under her fingers. "Please stand, your highness. A guest shouldn't be on the floor. What kind of host would I be if I let you dirty yourself for my own sake?"

She had meant the statement as a way to reach out—she called him his highness simply to make him feel important, give him a sense of dignity after what he'd been through—he was important. But as soon as it left her lips, he gazed upward at her, watching her eyes smile upon him. His eyes glazed over again, but then he sniffled, shook his head gently, and gave her the smallest, if not most reassuring smiles she had ever received.

Claude stepped forward, and Jim turned his head toward him, torn from Elizabeth's gaze. "Sir, if you would please allow me to help you get dressed."

His eyes shun, and he nodded excitedly. The girl with sun-colored hair held both of her hands out to him and he took them. He stood—and tripped. He caught himself quickly but was leaned uncomfortably close to her, and he gasped, leaping back a foot or two. But he still got a whiff of her scent. It was still drifting in his mind. She smelt like…flowers…

She giggled before turning away and heading toward the door.

Jim breathed a sigh of relief, the heat of embarrassment leaving him. He was glad she hadn't said anything.

Elizabeth left the room and began to make her way to the dining hall. She sat down at the table and placed a napkin in her lap and waited patiently. It didn't take too long for her quest to appear, in a rather large button-up shirt (undoubtedly previously owned by either Claude, or Ambrose, as those were the only two males in the mansion) and Capri pantaloons, the kind a child would wear. He almost looked like a pirate with his rugged hair and attire, minus the eye patch.

Jim pushed his rolled up sleeves to his elbow, gazing at the empty table almost disappointingly, but when ushered by Claude, he sat down opposite of Elizabeth and stared blankly at her from across the table.

Elizabeth fumbled; how to make conversation with someone whom she had found beaten and bruised and bloody and lying on her front porch? She couldn't very well bring it up at breakfast; it would undoubtedly upset him.

Elizabeth smiled frailly "Since you're my guest, you can stay as long as you need to. Or course, we may need to have a wardrobe tailored for you…"

And at that moment, Claude and Maria presented breakfast, as extravagant as it was every morning. Jim just stared at it as it was displayed, not even moving to take a bite. Elizabeth eventually took notice of this and looked up from her meal. "Jim…?"

At that moment, his eyes began watering and he shouted, "Thank you so much! Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford!"

A bit shocked, Elizabeth took a sharp intake of breath as she gazed at his bowed head. She could no longer help herself, then. She could no longer contain that itching feeling burning at the back of her throat, rising to her quivering lips…

Elizabeth burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

Jim Macken, shocked, looked upward, staring at her hysterical face.

"I-I'm so sorry, Jim Macken, but—you're so funny."

"F-funny?"

"Y-yes…" She giggled with the back of her hand over her mouth. "It's just…you're so adorable when your thankful."

Jim couldn't find any words, just stared at her. He didn't feel like he should be hurt. She'd said he was adorable. But, what did she mean by that?

"It's kind of just expected when a noble is kind to someone. No one is actually thankful for what you do for them. You just have to."

Jim's eyes widened as he gazed at her. Her eyes stared gratefully at him…they glimmered like emeralds as they washed over him. He almost felt…as if he was bathed in light at her gaze. Something about her made him feel safe and…warm.

"I guess I'm just not used to it, is all."

"Oh," he replied simply, not sure what else he could say.

"Is the food not to your liking?"

Startled, Jim looked up and then looked down at his full plate, still untouched. "N-no! It looks delicious!" And then he hurriedly scarfed down every last morsel. But not just simply to please her—he was so hungry, he thought he could finish off five or ten plates.

"Would you like more?" Elizabeth asked, eyeing his now empty plate.

Jim flushed, "I-if it's not too much t-trouble…"

Elizabeth giggled. "No, it's not. Have as much as you want. We don't know the last time you've eaten…"

Claude took his plate, refilled it, and Jim muttered his thanks as he devoured it, slowly, this time.

Elizabeth finished off her food and stood from the table as Maria began to clean up. Jim had finished his a few moments ago and said he wasn't still hungry. Elizabeth approached him in his seat, "Would you like to chat in the gardens? The roses are in full bloom this season."

Oh, no. Jim knew what this meant, and he knew it would come eventually. He didn't want to talk about it, or anything at all. He didn't know what he wanted to do. Still, looking at her, he could sense his trust slowly falling onto her. After all, she had already taken him in, mended his wounds, and fed him as much food as he could stuff into his mouth. In just the span of a night and morning, she had done for him all the things he had never received.

"O-okay." She could sense his uneasiness and smiled warmly at him, offering her small hand to him. His shaky one reached out, hesitantly, and took hold of hers. Jim noticed his hand was only slightly larger than hers. Her skin was tanner compared to his, but she could still be considered very pale. Her skin was soft…and warm. He almost savored the feeling of her skin on his.

And his cheeks began to burn once again, as she had made do once or twice before. Jim just didn't understand how a person could have such an effect on him.

His hand in hers, she led the boy to the front doors, which Claude opened for them. The sun was bright, and Jim shaded his eyes at first, but quickly adapted to the brightness. He then realized that Elizabeth was no longer pulling him along, though she still had hold of his hand. He pulled his hand from his face, and looked at her. She was looking downward, her lips frozen. He followed her gaze to the floor.

There was a maid there, furiously scrubbing at the ground with a pink sponge. Her hands looked tinted pink, also, and Jim looked toward the place she scrubbed just as the maid looked upward to Elizabeth.

"Oh, mistress, I'm sorry!" The maid seemed to lean over the spot she was cleaning, but Jim had seen it already. She was trying to get the blood stains from the floor. His blood.

"T-the stain hasn't come out yet, but it's getting there!"

Elizabeth shook her head, seeming to come out of her trance. She hurriedly looked to Jim, who stared blankly at her. She tried a weak smile. "Come on," she ushered.

Jim swallowed a large lump in his throat and forced his legs to move. He focused his eyes on the back of her head, her bouncing curls glowing in the sun. He had this strange feeling burning in the pit of his stomach…something he couldn't really explain. He couldn't even tell if he liked the feeling or not…it confused him.

Elizabeth guided him through the rows of flowers, and though he wanted to stop and gaze, he didn't state it. He shouldn't push his boundaries, though he didn't know where those lay.

Elizabeth led him to a stone bench and sat down of it. Jim quickly followed suit, the closeness making him uncomfortable. They sat for a long time, and Jim seemed to relax under the silence, but then she spoke, and he went rigid.

"Jim?"

"Y-yes?" he turned to look at her, though her eyes were elsewhere.

"I know you probably don't want to speak of it, but…" Jim's breath hitched. "We have to know who did this to you."

Jim didn't say anything.

"Would you like to tell me how you ended up on my doorstep?"

Jim looked at her, finally able to meet her eyes. He took a deep breath through the nose, and held his breath in as he stared at her. Her eyes…it was as if she saw right through his anatomy, right down to his very core. He found himself wanting to touch her soft skin again, but he swept the thought away as he began his tale.

"I used to live in a village with my little brother Luka. We were orphans there, and we lived in an abandoned shack right outside of the village. We were content just being on our own, until one morning we woke up to find that the village had burned down in the middle of the night. We were completely and utterly alone.

"Until we were taken away. We didn't know where, but a lot of children went with us so we thought we were being taken to an orphanage. Luka didn't want to go. He never said why, I guess it was just the idea of being locked up with no freedom had scared him. But…I thought we had no other option…

"We were taken to a large mansion where a lot of children already lived. We were kept underground, in the large cellars underneath the place. The children were so underfed they're bones stuck out from their skin and there were always these dark circles under their eyes. I had taken my little brother straight to hell…but it didn't end there.

"When the children reached a certain age, and they were deemed "ready" then they would be taken for examination and we would be auctioned off for a night to different men and women…mostly men. For a certain amount of money, these people could do whatever they pleased with us, as long as we didn't die. I was separated from Luka for a year until he was ten and he was taken in for examination and eventually began auctioning. I was fourteen. This continued on and on, every night a different person."

Elizabeth nodded, but she couldn't look at him anymore. When she looked at him, it was as if she could see the story played out for her.

"And…not only that but the men and women in charge would often have their way with us also. I was chosen as a favorite to the main man."

"That's awful," Elizabeth put in, her voice shaking.

Jim nodded. "There was something that happened after all that, though. When the children reach about fifteen or so, they're taken down to the farthest reaches of the basement. We hear many cries and screams from down there…And a couple of days after they are brought down there, not all of them come back. The few that are brought back aren't the same…it's like they were pushed to the bridge of insanity and forced to drop off the edge—"

"What?"

"I don't know what had been done to make them like that."

They both took long breaths.

"I didn't think we'd be taken down there so early…especially Luka. He didn't deserve any of this."

Elizabeth looked at him. He was staring at the ground, eyes wide, and tremors running over his skin. He spoke with a crazed look in his eye. "They had…rituals. Some sort of satanic rituals held down there. Candles lit, the air thick with blood. They had us chained to the wall, where they beat us to bloody pulps. Luka…he struck out with his foot and knocked down one of the candles—the curtains went up in flames and he slid from his shackles. He quickly freed me, and then as I tried to pull him towards the door, he was grabbed by one of the men.

"In a fit of anger, the man…h-h-he…

Elizabeth braced herself.

"He tossed Luka into the flames. His body was picked up so easily…like a rag doll…"

Elizabeth felt tears rush to her eyes.

"I—I just ran. They followed me, but I kept running, even though I could hardly feel my body, I was so numb… But I ran for a long time, a night and day, until I reached London."

"You didn't have trouble leaving the mansion?"

"No, of course I did. But most of the people there had been in the basement for the ritual, except for a few watching the children. They had hounds hunting my scent, and I knew the large city couldn't hide me forever, so I started going…south, I think. I thought I had some time before they got my path, but I was wrong. A number of them had their dogs and when I cut through the forest they found me. But I clawed and hit and punched—I did everything I possibly could to get away. My brother wouldn't die for nothing. I wouldn't let him. They beat me until I couldn't breathe, and didn't stop there. They intended to kill me there. No one would find my body for a long time in those woods, and they decided I wasn't worth hauling back to the mansion. They had only come after me because they thought I would tell people as soon as I had the chance of what went on in that mansion," Jim explained.

"And when I got away, I ran towards a very dim light…it was th-this mansion. I heard horses and a man shouting, and I knew there was a road somewhere, I just didn't know where. I just ran toward the light and all of a sudden there was this place. I came up and slammed as hard as I could on the door before…before…"

"It's okay, Jim. I understand."

They sat in silence for a long time, though it wasn't exactly comfortable. It was tense as the story circulated their heads and reigned heavily in the air. A looming cloud.

"E-Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"C-can I look at t-the…"

Elizabeth looked at him, almost not believing he would ask permission to do something as simple as that.

She laughed. "Of course!"

"T-thank you." And then he hastily stood and began to wander around, gazing at the flowers that bloomed. He seemed completely infatuated with them, the most beauty he had ever seen all at once.

Elizabeth sighed. She had tried so hard to stay calm as he told her this. But this was all so familiar. She knew who had set all this up. Even though most of her childhood was erased, she knew this man…she knew the man responsible for this…

Memories were constantly leaving her and then returning suddenly. She had to find a way to gain full control of her mind, but she couldn't. Not without all of her soul with her. And she found it hard to muster enough hatred toward the man she was losing and regaining memory of.

Elizabeth lay down on the bench, her heart beat steadily increasing. She closed her eyes, trying to meditate for a moment. In a matter of seconds, she delved deep into the recesses of her mind, up to where her soul would let her, and explored the locked memories until her head was pounding. Still, she kept going.

And then the world disappeared. It was only memory.


Elizabeth had never heard anything louder than a gun shot. She had heard it plenty of times before—out on picnics with her family, her brother and father would go and hunt, but they were always far from the site they sat at. These were…close. So close, in fact, that as the whizzed by her head, she felt her ears ring with the sound made in turn.

She stumbled through the underbrush, deeper into the cover of darkness she hoped would give her enough time to think. But she couldn't. Not with the constant shots of the rifle and the barking howls of the hunting dogs they had. Those dogs usually stayed in the basement…she didn't know they could be used for these purposes. She might have refrained from running if she had known she'd have so much less of a chance than she'd thought.

The devil hounds put their noses to the midnight sky, taking in her scent and barking and snorting as they followed it. The humans followed close behind, firing into the night.

Elizabeth sobbed, her heart a throbbing mess, with the majority of her skin exposed to the dim-lit, cold night. Her lungs expelled air hurriedly in order to receive more, and, along with the blood pumping in her ears, she could hear water.

A river. A coursing river with a strong current. It called to her, beckoned her.

It could save her.

The dogs couldn't attack her underwater, and those men were too good to dive in after her. It would be too dark to see her anyway.

Elizabeth followed the sound of the water's sweet beckoning. It was close. So close, in fact, she could hear it clearly over the barks and howls of the hunting mutts. The waterfall, and then the water flowing south.

But it didn't overcome the sound of the next gunshot.

She had been so utterly consumed in reaching her safety that she hadn't even realized she had put herself in an open field. Three gunshots flooded her ears, overlapping the water and the quietness of the forest.

The first bullet zipped past her.

The second landed in the grass, spewing dirt at her feet.

The third hit the mark.

Elizabeth felt the bullet drive into her soft, plump flesh, the flesh of her naked thigh. She felt her dress become soaked in her blood which quickly spat from the wound, the blood she had tried so hard to conserve. As hard as it was, she held in her wails, tears pouring from her eyes as the pain coursed through her quivering body. She listened over the sound of her blood pulsing in her ears.

They were looking for her. They knew they had gotten her; they just weren't sure where she had fallen, for the grass was tall and hid her small body well. The dogs were hushed ,their noses now at the ground as they wandered in circles.

Elizabeth shifted, dragging herself upward and reaching back to touch her bloody thigh. She froze. Teeth grinding as the dogs began to howl, her scent caught once more.

She got to her, realizing quickly how close she had been to victory. The field ended and she limped into the forest once again, the water high in her ears. The men began shouting, causing her limp to become more hurried, even though the pain was near unbearable. They intended to kill, she knew, and as she approached the water, she saw a pier, and she knew this was her closest bet. She limped downstream towards it, and walked along the creaky wood. The water roared.

The water was in front of her and she knew if she didn't leap, she would die. It was huge…the current strong and uninviting. Her family used to go downstream towards the lake and swim there, but if she leaped in here she would surely drown. The current was too strong, and her wound giving her much less of a chance. She felt as if she would die either way. They might shoot into the water until they saw her blood rise to the surface. The dogs would undoubtedly rip her to shreds if she stood there, if they didn't shoot her down first—

Elizabeth leapt.

The summer air and made the water cool, and it washed her flesh and her wounds. Immediately, she began to sink, drifting sideways with the current. It'd been a long time since she felt at peace, even for just a moment.

But it wasn't as if she didn't have a chance. She did and she knew it, but she feared it. But he was her last hope.

And in that moment, Elizabeth forgot that she had been born in a holy family. She didn't even care. God had left them a long time ago and he made it clear that he wasn't going to return. But there, in that river, she abandoned all her hopes of there being an upper being that could beat away the dark.

Elizabeth was tired of waiting to be saved.

"I want to make a contract with you!" she cried out in her head. She was running out of air. It quickly became clear to her that she was dying…drowning…

"I agree to all the terms, just please—!"

Elizabeth screamed, expelling all the air from her lungs and water filling her mouth and escaping down her throat. An unbearable pain had started in her neck. Her throat was on fire and her skin was aflame. She clawed at her skin, not even bothered by the prospect of oxygen. She could no longer bear the need of oxygen and only moments later, the searing pain in her lungs and throat was forgotten as she sunk farther and farther into the lonely depths, and her world became shrouded in black…


Elizabeth opened her eyes, gasping for air as her hand flew it her chest, over her lungs which were filled with water. She breathed in hard, as if she'd never taken a breath in her life. She searched with her eyes, never moving from her bed.

She had a moment of panic—she didn't know where she was for a brief few seconds, and then everything flooded back to her.

That morning, meeting Jim. The garden and the memory searching. Which, hadn't ended very well. She couldn't get much from it. Playing a few games with her guest, and having tea with him. Eating dinner with him, and then parting ways to their bedrooms.

She wasn't at all sure why she had dreamt of that moment in her past. She remembered it clearly, and all the events after that. It was in her early past, before that, that she had trouble remembering often. And after all this time, they had thought it was trauma from those events that had caused her to forget about it, when it was really her soul that had been taken from her.

Elizabeth lay there for a long time, pondering. Could it be that those people taking her soul was in a locked memory? That had to be it. That was the reason she couldn't remember.

A sudden crack of thunder rolled in the sky, coinciding with the heavy rain she hadn't noticed earlier. She found the rain calming, and it helped her think a bit.

But she had to remember, somehow… If she didn't, she'd never get her soul back. Please…I need to remember. Remember. Remember! Rem—

Elizabeth shot upward. She could hear the familiar creaking of the door as it eased open. She felt her heart begin to thrum unsteadily. "Who's there?!" She whispered harshly.

She waited. The door stopped moving and she watched intently as small fingers curled around the door and pushed it open farther…and then a head peered from behind it. She saw familiar white-blonde hair, and rainwater eyes that glinted in the dark…

"Jim?"

He slipped through the door and dropped to the ground. The door shut behind him. "I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean to—! I j-just…" With a start, she realized there were tears in his eyes.

Elizabeth said softly, "What's wrong, Jim?"

"It's j-just…" With a startled look, he looked to the rain pounding on her window and sniffled. Thunder cackled and he sniffled.

Elizabeth felt horrible for some reason. As if he'd want to be alone after all he'd been through. How could I have been so stupid? Still, she felt hesitation. She knew he wouldn't do anything to her. He was too…innocent. Was that the word?

He was…raped and beaten senseless. Not to mention he had been forced to leave his brother, dead, most likely. She should have thought about all this before. She felt like such an imbecile!

Elizabeth crawled to the edge of her bed, her hand held out for the third time that day. "Would you like to sleep i-in here?"

Jim's eyes widened, as if shocked she would ask. Of course, Elizabeth hadn't expected herself to either. Still after a moment, he nodded numbly and approached the bed. He climbed into it and laid down next her, his legs curled up to his chest. He kept his head down.

Elizabeth pulled the blankets over them and settled next to him. "I'm…sorry. I didn't think about the fact that you'd be alone in your bedroom."

He looked startled at the fact that she knew that being alone scared him. Still, he nodded gently, "I-It's okay."

There was a long moment of silence. The rain smacking curses against the window pane. They avoided eye contact, the rain being the only communication they needed. They didn't shut they're eyes to sleep until Jim spoke again.

"C-Can you s-sing?"

Elizabeth looked at him. "Sing?"

"Y-yes. Luka liked to s-sing a lot. To the really young ones. B-But everyone liked it," Jim muttered. Elizabeth had looked at him, but he kept his eyes lowered.

Elizabeth fumbled. "What…what would you like me to sing for you?"

"Anything's okay. I just…"

Elizabeth smiled as he raised his eyes. "Okay, I'll sing for you, Jim."

There was a long moment of unwinding silence. Elizabeth took in shaky breaths. She'd never really sung for anyone but her mother before. Sometimes her mother would ask her to sing for her in the asylum…but never anyone other than her. She'd hum…but she felt her heart try to break free of her ribcage at the thought of singing for this boy, she'd only just met today but was in bed with. Oh, the things her brother would say…

Pushing back her fear, she began to sing a tune her mother had taught her:

This is the moment,

I have been waiting for.

Obscured,

Distorded,

And left to explore.

In a world of tragedy,

In search for release,

So I may leave.

The song fell from her lips in gentle waves, and she felt her voice picking up gently, as she realized Jim had closed his eyes, basking in the lullaby. She continued to sing, enjoying the soft look on his face.

My whole life,

I've been prying inside.

But all this time,

The answers appeared in,

My whole life.

Inhaling frame after frame,

All this time,

I've been waiting.

To find a way to reach inside,

To wield the hands,

Unfolding time.

The higher I am,

The better view I find.

As I lay down,

Observe it all,

Unwind.

No doubt or fear,

My view is now clear.

Elizabeth finished it off with a gentle hum. She looked down at Jim's face and noticed he hadn't moved. She could hear his steady breathing, the gentle tune of sleep.

She fell asleep too, her lullaby the sound of the rain and the distant hum of her mother as she sang her the familiar lullaby…

In a world of tragedy…

In search of release.


Hello. C:

I hope it hasn't been too long.

Please don't hate me for making Alois all cute and innocent and using his real name! I really hope you like him, because I enjoyed writing him this way.

And please don't comment all like: "WHAT THE HELL, ELIZABETH IS SUPPOSED TO LOVE CLAUDE, NOT ALOIS!"

Please, just hold on. I'm getting there, honestly.

Please tell me what you think of this. I hope you like it, I really do.