Aaaand here I am again. Not updating my older stories. Submiting new.

This one is actually the follow up of the tiny oneshot I had submited 'Twenty Six Demon Tears'

If anyone who reads my other stories reads this... I have not given up on BMF or REC but I need to find motivation for those TwT I have read a few pages for BMF... But for now have some Kuroshitsuji.

A/N: English is not my mother language, so be polite with my grammar, dictionary mistakes and lack of variety in words.

Warnings: None for now. But there will probably be pretty bad images in the future.

Disclamer in the ending

Chapter I

There was a little man

Even under the pile of the corpses, the scream echoed through the whole village. It wasn't easy for the men to find its source, since the little boy had neither enough air nor power to produce a second scream and the weight of the dead upon him didn't allow him any movement.

He could hear sounds above, but couldn't make out what it was, all he wanted to do was get out, or he would throw up, but he didn't even have place to do this. He groaned weakly and tried to dig his way out, but once more the weight didn't allow him any action. As if the pain and the fear wasn't enough, his ears were buzzing and he was so dizzy. And a burning on the front of his neck, as if someone had sticked a fired iron on it.

The sounds from above came closer, and he felt the weight lightening finally, and he could once more breathe, in the end his eyes were free to see. The first thing he saw was a the red light of the fire, and then a man, once their eyes met, the said man grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him out of the pile.

"You said you checked that everyone was dead!" exclaimed another male that stood aside.

"I did! Everyone here has been dead!" said the first that was holding the terrified boy in his arms.

The little child though wasn't paying attention to them. He was clinging for dear life on the man but the bodies that lay around him weren't frightening him now that they weren't above him. In a weird way it felt right. But the burning on his throat was still there, as well as the nausea and the buzzing. For a moment he would swear he could hear voices, meddled up in the air, but he couldn't be sure, and even if the fires around made the whole place warm, he was shaking as if it was as chill as a snowed night.

Letting out a loud whimper he gripped the man's shirt and shut his eyes. The men were still talking, but their words only bothered his sore head so he shut them off. All the pain caused his breathing to come out hard, and suddenly he went on a coughing fit, as if his lugs had forgot how to accept air and they were trying to adjust.

The man that held him placed him on his feet, but it wasn't the best idea, the little one could not stand, his feet gave away right away and he fell on his four, without stop coughing until finally he emptied his stomach and groaned loud, he sat on his knees tiredly and placed his hands around his throat shutting eyes tight. He felt a cloth being placed over his shoulders and a soft pet in his hair, but he ignored it completely. The men stopped paying attention to him for a while and started speaking to each other.

The small redhead dug his nails on his own throat, trying to cease the pain which didn't help, with another groan he tried to steady his breath and closed his eyes, without lowering his hands, slowly bringing his breaths in a normal pace. Little by little as he did that, everything seemed to go back to normal. He let out a soft sigh and lowered his hands from his neck, as the burning was cooling down. He blinked and looked down, facing a mark on the top of his chest, just on the base of his neck. It was clearly a pentacle closed in two circles, and a pentagram, along with a few other shapes, in green colorations. But the boy wasn't educated enough to know that. He didn't remember where that came from, and tried to recall how it happened. But then he realized. He remembered nothing.

Raising his eyes he looked around. There was a sickening smell of burned flesh in the air, it seemed like he was lucky the pile he was in hadn't been burned. He could make out that there had been a catastrophe in that village. He wondered what happened, but in a little sense subconsciously he didn't really care. But he felt like something was missing…

"Hey, kid" called the man that dragged him out before.

Instinctly the young held his shirt closed, covering the mark although he wasn't sure why he did that. He turned his wide brown eyeballs to the man.

"What's your name?" he asked.

For a short while they simply stared at each other. Then it occurred to him. The only name he could remember "Jim" he replied. If it was the only name he remembered it must had been his he assumed.

"Maybe he is the sibling of the other one" mentioned the other "You know, the one that screamed. Apart from the whore he was the only one alive"

"I bet that one is miles away by now" replied the first and turned to Jim suspiciously "I would swear you were dead…"

"I don't know about you, Ron, but I don't plan to go look for him" announced the one that stood further. Jim noticed that there were more men standing too, but they were busy over taking care of fires, in the distance.

"Do you have a brother?" Ron directed the question to Jim.

Jim once more took a while considering the answer, but he couldn't remember anything "I don't remember" he replied honestly.

"Ah, great. Amnesiac. Best for us. We dump it on an orphanage on the closest town. We don't need trouble and since he remembers nothing, he won't even know how to speak of the incident in the village"

Ron rolled his eyes "How thoughtful you are, Dustin… But I guess you are right… We don't have time for that"

Jim wondered if they remembered he could still hear them, but some little voice in his head whispered that it was normal human behavior toward children, and as far as he could see he was indeed a child. He couldn't recall his age, but he couldn't be older than five.

"Come on, I'll have someone take you to the closest town. We are far from done here" Ron said and stepped close to Jim once more and caught him from the arm to raise him. This time the boy stood, a bit clumsily but the strength on his limbs was returning. Willingly he followed the steps of the adult, as they walked across the village.

It wasn't much that the boy could judge. No memory, no much common sense, and not much education either. He couldn't understand everything, but he could see either way that he could not stay in that village where everything was dead. All the way there were still corpses that weren't collected and all in all there couldn't be more than fifteen people standing, and looking through the ruins.

'What a big destruction it must have been' thought Jim. 'Whatever could have caused that? Well whatever it was I was lucky'.

Ron was still eyeing him from the corner of his eye 'For a child that small that is facing such a marc able sight he sure is extremely calm… I wonder if he doesn't realize what has happened. Or he just doesn't understand what he sees'

Jim was walking beside the man with his hand still gripping the top of his button shirt closed. Luckily it didn't seem to alarm the adult, who was probably just hurrying to get rid of the child, and not involve himself any more in the matter.

Suddenly Ron stopped walking, Jim who was tailing him, while looking everything around, bumped on him soft, looked up a little taken aback and then followed his gaze, seeing a woman. Now that he considered it she was the first woman he saw.

"You are still here?" questioned Ron "Are you really planning to stay in that village all alone?"

But the woman didn't reply. Her eyes were wide open, and were staring at the small figure that stood beside the man now. Jim looked back at her questioningly. He didn't recognize her.

Ron watched her for a second, expecting her reply and then glanced at the boy "You know the child? He is the only survivor except of you" he turned once more to the prostitute. She was pale from before, but now she seemed merely white and had a crazy look in her eyes, which became twice scary as a twisted desperate smile appeared on her lips.

"That is no child" she replied and shook her head, without taking her eyes from the boy, and without blinking once. Ron raised his eyebrow as the woman continued "That is the devil in disguise" with that she took a step back shakily "He brought hell in the village. He should have burned with the rest of them"

Jim stared at her; he didn't seem much shaken by her words. His eyes had widened just slightly, but he wasn't scared. One could say he felt a hint of amusement watching her. She was really desperate and she continued to speak "That is a devil of destruction and misfortune" finally she turned her eyes to Ron "Do not allow it to live"

Ron was now convinced the woman was crazy. Obviously the downfall of her village had damaged her mental health. The man shook his head and kept walking past her, making sure Jim walked on the safe side "Go to sleep woman" he muttered as he walked passed her with his hand on the boy's shoulder, dragging it along. Jim followed hurriedly looking perfectly calm, as they passed he turned back to look at the woman for a moment, which still had her eyes on him.

"Do not let that creature live in this world! Send it back to hell!" she screamed finally.

Ron ignored her and he kept walking. Once they were in a safe distance he looked down at the boy "Are you alright?" he asked tiredly. Jim nodded carelessly "People can say mean things in their desperate moments" he continued. If Jim was older, he would have taken a guess that Ron had a family, and so he treated him kindly, even if he was a burden, but now he simply listened while looking up at him.

"What happened to the village?" questioned the younger.

Ron shook his head "I don't know. I was called here along with a few others to look for survivors… But we don't know what happened to it" Ron thought that the others wouldn't want the child to know. But no one listens to children anyway, so it made no difference.

"How many survivors did you find?" he asked with his eyes shining at the light of the flames, which soon faded as they stepped out of the village.

The older man furrowed his thick eyebrows looking ahead as they walked, knowing that the answer was all but good, but he replied anyway "Two" he said "The lady and a boy… With you three" he said.

Jim's heart fluttered, but he had no idea why "Where is the boy?" the question also came out before he could think of it.

"He was taken to an orphanage I think. The first carriage that left took him along" he said.

"To the orphanage you will take me to now?" asked the redhead lively.

"I do not think so. They headed to different direction… Either way orphans in these places don't stay in one place for too long. You will be lucky if you do" this time Ron was talking more emotionlessly and as if he didn't care. Jim wasn't sure if he thought he could talk openly because he seemed better now, or he wanted to break it to him that he wouldn't have a very good fate.

Jim lowered his head and watched his path as they walked; the cloak that Ron had placed on him before still hanging from his shoulders "Can I keep that?" he questioned and looked up at the older once more.

Ron shrugged "We found it at the village"

Jim gave a soft smile and nodded wit that he tactfully lowered his hand from the shirt and buttoned the cloak on the front of his neck, letting it hang over him. Luckily it wasn't long for him. It must have belonged to another child.

Once more both their steps came to a halt this time in a roadway. A couple of carriages were stopped there; most of them had clothes and objects. They were all carriages that belonged to people from lower classes, and were dragged by no more than two horses. Some even had only one. Jim guessed the objects were taken from the houses of the dead; it wasn't so difficult to guess after all. Supposedly all these things would go on waste now, so there was probably no harm.

Both males approached one of the carriages that seemed ready to take off.

"Where are you heading?" asked Ron.

The one that held the restrains of the horses was a really old woman, leaned over and she seemed a bit miserable also. With her bony finger she pointed a way and named a town, which Jim didn't quite catch, and said that she was planning to be on the Sunday's bazaar. Jim raised his eyebrow to the thought of all the goods that people owned were to be sold after stolen, but once more he suspected this was natural adult behavior and could actually recall a saying that said you have to step on corpses to rise. Well this was getting a little literal this time.

Ron nodded, not seeming to disapprove of her action "You will take this little boy to the town's orphanage" it wasn't even a question. He just announced it. The old woman eyed Jim disapprovingly and then looked ahead. The man carefully lifted Jim without a warning and placed him on the seat next to her "Good luck, Jim. You are gonna need it" he stated with a sign and nodded as the old woman whipped the horses once and the carriage took off.

This was the first time Jim felt his heart tighten. He looked back at Ron, who didn't stay to watch him off; he walked back to the village. Jim already could only see the red light from the fires, and he was starting to feel lost. Even when he realized he had no memories he hadn't felt that lost, but now that he was leaving his village behind, even if he didn't remember it, he could feel that he was heading toward a more unwelcome world than the burning hell back there. And something really important wasn't there.

If only he could pinpoint what…

The trip to the town was silent. The old woman didn't even speak a word to him. Occasionally she would matter something but Jim realized it wasn't directed to him, and she was probably thinking a little aloud. Then suddenly she started humming in her weak voice

"There was a little man, and he had a little gun,

And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead;

He went to the brook, and saw a little duck,

And shot it right through the head, head, head.

He carried it home to his old wife Joan,

And bade her a fire to make, make, make.

To roast the little duck he had shot in the brook,

And he'd go and fetch the drake, drake, drake.

The drake was a-swimming with his curly tail;

The little man made it his mark, mark, mark.

He let off his gun, but he fired too soon,

And the drake flew away with quack, quack, quack."

Jim watched her curiously "What is that?" he wondered. It hadn't sounded too bad, although the lyrics were a bit odd. But maybe it was just him.

"It's a nursery rhyme' child. Did yer mother not sing to you?" she questioned with the same sour expressing she wore before.

Jim didn't even remember if he had a mother. Talk about singing him lullabies. Really unsure of the answer he simply shook his head.

"Neh…" replied the old lady. They had already entered the town. It was starting to become a day, but it was still dark and silent in the streets. The sounds coming from the carriage were the echoing really loud in the dead silence until she finally pulled back the restrains and the horses stopped and shook their heads "Over there" she said and pointed an old building. Jim could not read, but he guessed that must be the orphanage. As it seemed she didn't plan to walk escort him to the door he climbed down the carriage himself (which was really difficult in his size, luckily he had had a lot of running in his life, and his body remembered that and was in good form –by now all his parts worked just fine-).

"Thank you" he told her, simply for the good of the manners. The old lady didn't even react like she heard him; once more she started the carriage and took off. Jim frowned slightly and rushed toward the door of the orphanage. It took both his hands to move the heavy doorknob and knock it.

He stood still for a while, and guessed they were asleep. He shifted uncomfortably on his legs and knocked once more. Finally the door was opened just a bit for an eye to look at him.

"What do you want?" asked a deep female voice.

Jim blinked trying to look at her from his position "I was told to come here"

The eye rolled and then looked above him around. Once she made sure it was safe she pulled the door open "Get in" she ordered.

Jim rushed inside with the cloak fluttering and stood looking up at her. The woman closed the door immediately and placed her hands on her waist eyeing him. She was a chubby woman with her hair tied up, dressed in a robe. Obviously just awaken.

"Where did you come from?" she asked.

"A ruined village" relied Jim simply.

The woman raised her eyebrow "Which one?"

"I don't know. I remember nothing but my name" he told her and stroked his own hair out of his face, throwing back the hood he had put on while on the carriage.

Once more she rolled her eyes "I see… Come on, I will find you a place to sleep" with that she led the way.

"Won't you ask my name?" Jim asked once more having to tail an adult.

"If you are to stay here, I will learn it" she replied coldly, leading the way with a candle in the hand, to light their way "If you leave, I won't need it. There are too many kids to remember".

Jim looked around as they walked. They passed some rooms with open doors, and they were indeed filled with children, most of them were sleeping on the floor, upon blankets, and the luckiest ones had a bed. He could see now why the kids wouldn't remain in the orphanage for long. There was no place, and it didn't seem like there was way to support all of these children either.

On the end of the corridor the woman stopped and showed him a room "Sleep here for the night and tomorrow we see what we'll do with you"

The little boy nodded and entered the room, and the caretaker took her leave. The room was lit by some candles here and there, and it was also filled with children. Jim wondered around the room as silently as he could until he found an empty blanket and sat on it. None of the children seemed to take notice of him, they were all deep asleep.

With a soft sigh Jim dragged his knees to his chest and rested his head on them, closing his eyes.

'What a confusing day' he mattered to himself 'It's like a peculiar dream of another. Because I hardly have any word…' he frowned slightly and opened his eyes again, looking at the flame of the candle and his mind wondered toward the destroyed village, getting a weird feeling of nostalgia mixed with satisfaction.

'They should all just die'

Jim drifted to sleep, hugging his knees with a faint smile upon his face.

'They did…'

But there was still something missing. Something more important than his memories… Hidden inside those lost memories…

He was going to find it.

~Thank you for reading. Please tell me your oppinion~

Black Butler (c) Yana Toboso & SquearEnix