††Prologue††

"Look out the window."

Allen sat in the carriage with his arms crossed stubbornly at his chest. A feat that was harder than it should be since his left arm was paralysed. Normally, he would have felt some small sense of accomplishment. Instead, he was irate because Mana had dragged him out of the dingy inn they were staying at, using their hard earnings on a carriage of all things, so that Allen could spend time, and he's quoting his adoptive father, "With children who look twice more happier than you". Did he think that Allen actually enjoys dressing up like a clown every other day?

"I don't wanna," Allen grumbled, stubbornly turning his head away from the man.

However, he wasn't going to admit that he was... Well, not happy. He wouldn't admit that. Content would the better word. He had a bed, warm food, somebody nice. That's better than what that accursed circus had to offer.

Mana merely chuckled at his antics, making the ginger-headed boy scowl. Nothing seemed to faze that man. Allen can't even tell what he's thinking half the time. Or, most of the time really. He won't deny that the person whose caring for him certainly has a few screws loose. The boy was tempted to pinch Mana's face to vent some of his frustration. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek and glared at the closed curtains that shielded the cloudy sky.

In hindsight, maybe he should have open those curtains.

Crash!

The carriage Mana and Allen were in jolted heavily towards the side. They could feel it teeter on two wheels before the carriage turned over. Pain lit up the side of Allen's skull when his head met the wall. He blinked his eyes furiously as his vision blurred. He then forced himself into sitting position, his fingers rising to where his head ached to press on it gently. The pain rose sharply, enforcing a hiss to escape his lips as he jerked his hand away and looked at his fingertips. Blood.

There wouldn't be a need for stitches, he had concluded. But... head wounds do tend to bleed a lot.

"Allen," he could hear Mana murmur. The boy quickly looked over at his guardian to find him also lying against the wall.

"M-Mana!" The boy moved closer towards him. "Are you alright!?"

"Fit as a fiddle," the man responded, getting into sitting position. And it was true. Allen wasn't sure how but that man didn't have a hair out of place. He picked up his top hat and placed it back on his head before looking over at the redhead. Then he stiffened. His hand reached outwards towards the boy. "Allen, your head..."

"I'm fine," he snapped, shoving the hand away. "Let's just get the hell outta here already."

Mana stared at him for a moment, his eyes clouding with worry and concern before he rose up. "Very well. Let me get you out first."

The boy held no arguments as the man forced the door to the carriage open. He then turned to Allen and picked him up. He hated on how it made him feel so little, so weak. But he would hold his tongue. Now wasn't the time to complain no matter how much he wanted.

Even with Mana lifting him up to the open area, Allen had to use his own arms to forced himself out. Again, it was easier said than done. His horrible, disgusting red limb beneath the mitten was utterly useless. He was left cursing bitterly at his luck before he finally got up and looked around.

The dust seemed to settle around the carriage even though one of the wheels continued to spin. Down the beaten path, the back end of the horse that had been pulling them could barely be seen as it raced away. It was only him, Mana, and a destroyed carriage out in the countryside with nothing but wild animals and a few sparse trees to accompany them.

Allen hopped off the carriage, bending his knees slightly upon landing so as to not hurt himself. Taking several steps away, he looked around and realized one thing.

Odd. Where the bloody hell is our driver?

There was a polite old man who had greeted them. He was no longer anywhere to be seen. Strange. How could he just... disappear?

"Oh my, what on Earth happened here?"

A tick mark appeared on Allen's head as he looked over to see Mana standing casually on top of the carriage, his irises scanning the destruction. How the hell was that bastard always so calm?

"Oi!" Allen scowled at his guardian. "Get down there already, will ya-mmph!"

Someone had come up behind him and pressed a cloth hard against his face, forcing him to be pinned by a larger body. A sickly-sweet smell pervaded Allen's nostils as he struggled against the unknown assailant. Mana, upon hearing the commotion, turned over towards his son with his eyes wide. "Allen!"

Bang!

Allen watched, horrified, as Mana jolted only a split second after a gun had fired, his top hat being blown off. And there, in the center of his head, was a circle. There was a pregnant silence as crimson blood leaked from the wound. Then the man fell off the side of the carriage. Like a puppet whose strings were cut.

"Mana!" the boy had tried to scream. Instead, it became muffled grunts as he continued to struggle against the arms that wrapped around him. He found that his eyelids didn't want him to stay awake. This was chloroform, wasn't it? Allen had an unpleasant experiance with it once before.

Just stay awake. Stay awake. Stay the hell awake!

"Why isn't that brat out yet," a male voice hissed.

"I don't fucking know," retorted the other.

"Knock his ass out then!"

Allen felt something hard hit the back of his head before he slipped into darkness.

†††††††

I can't see, was Allen's first thought when he finally grasped at the tedious strands of consciousness. His silver-gray eyes had blinked slowly in the darkness. His body was heavy to himself. He felt empty like something... Something important had been taken away.

Mana, his mind realized for him. He could faintly recall the man falling off the overturned carriage.

No, that can't be right. Surely that was a mistake. This was Mana after all. This could be one of his games. He was just rendered unconscious and... What was it he was in? Is this the storiage area of the carriage? What the hell!? Mana would never leave him in such a space! He would at least blind Allen with some cloth or such. That is, if he was able to think of such an elaborate game like this himself. He was too childish for that. Which means...

Allen squeezed his eyes shut when he felt them sting.

Mana was... Mana had to be...

No, he couldn't even think it. Even if he saw it only...

Wait.

How long...? How long has he been in here?

I'm bound, the boy thought, narrowing his eyes when he tried to move. His arms were placed behind his back and it felt like... rope had been used.

His legs, thankfully, had been left free of such bondage. Whoever these kidnappers are, they aren't too smart. Good. That means that Allen could give them some hell. He didn't earn the title Demon Child on the streets just for his arm's hideous appearance.

Minutes seemed to crawl by at an agonizingly slow pace as the sound of hooves could be heard moving on cobblestone. They must've returned to London. Or...wherever depending on how long Allen has been unconscious. It took longer still until the carriage he was in finally came to a complete stop.

"Think he's still unconscious?" a muffled voice had asked as the carriage swayed. Allen recognized it as the one that belonged to the man who shot...

"He better be," responded the male that had held him with chloroform. "I gave him one hell of a hit."

That he did. The back of the redhead's skull still throbbed. Allen rolled onto his back, placing his feet where he thought the exit would be.

"Dang. Did you check to see if he was still breathing?"

"Of course I did! We've been doing this for how long already!?"

"And yet you still managed to kill four kids in a month. By accident."

"It isn't my fault that they're too soft," the man grumbled.

They were right outside now. Allen could hear them moving. Then the trunk opened, the sudden sparse of light hurting his eyes after spending ages of time in the dark.

That's when he lashed out with his foot.

A sharp cry had been released as his shoe connected with one of his kidnapper's face. He could feel the contact, hear a decently loud crunch and desperately wished that he wasn't momentarily blind so he could revel in the pain of his assailant.

As his eyesight began to clear, Allen kept kicking. There was no way in Hell that he was going to just let these jerks do whatever to him. He'll turn that sad, empty feeling in his heart into rage and burn everything alongside him if he must.

"Let go of me, you bastard," Allen hissed, kicking angrily at the hand that managed to ensnare his ankle. Then he was yanked forcibly from the trunk. The boy barely had a chance to blink before his vision turned white as his head slammed into the ground. Then, as if to throw salt in the wound, he was picked up by his ginger locks and forced to stare at the face of one of his kidnappers.

"Be good and you won't be hurt," he sneered.

Allen promptly spit in his face.

The man stiffened, wiping the saliva fron his eyes before looking from it to the child. Then his pulled his arm back with his hand enclosing into a fist. Allen's silver eyes stared at him defiantly, as if daring the man to hit him.

"Rowan!"

A third, unknown voice broke across them. The trio turned to the source, the men suddenly flinching when they found out who it belonged to. It was a man finely dressed in an expensive-looking suit. Of course a rich guy would be involved in Allen's kidnapping.

"Don't hurt the merchandise." The man's hard eyes scanned the boy. "He's injured enough as is."

The man in front of him, Rowan, released his posture and stepped back. The rich man moved into his space and gripped Allen's face. Hard. The man turned it one way and then another, his expression turning calculating.

"He's a kid who grew up on the streets," the man concluded. "He's better looking than most of the rats we pick up. I bet this brat could pass for a noble if we cleaned him up and schooled him on etiquette." He sneered at the boy. "But you won't be a good kid and listen to the adults, would you?" He lift his gaze up to the man holding him by his locks. "Did you examine him?"

"Of course," he had stated. "And we found something most surprising."

"Did you now?"

"Yes. Come take a look at his left hand."

Allen stiffened. They saw his hand? The thing that had given him so much hell over the years?

The noble man circled aroud Allen. The boy bristled and tried to turn away but to no avail. His hair was still in that man's grip and it hurt so much for him to so much as twist. A small gasp could be heard behind him. Then the man reappeared in his peripheral vision with a dark smirk present on his lips.

"We seem to have caught a priceless treasure," the man sneered. "I wonder how much the Order will pay for a brat like you."

"Screw you, you bloody fuck face," Allen snarled. Even if it hurt, he thrashed in his captor's grip.

"He has a bit of fire, doesn't he," the man chuckled. He bloody chuckled. Oh, Allen's blood boiled. "Good, he'll last longer then. Where's the tag at?"

The man that had the gun went and handed the noble something small. A piece of paper it seems, and an ink pen. The man wrote on it before nodding towards Allen. "Pin the brat down. We wouldn't want to tear his ear off, would we?"

Both of his lackeys snorted as Allen was pinned onto the dirty ground. He tried to squirm and buck but there was no point. Both men were too big, too powerful.

It really pissed him off.

Pain spiked in his ear. A sharp, quick pain that left it throbbing slightly. The tag, the price saying £7800.85*, had been pierced into his ear.

"Go put him with the others," the noble commanded. "And be a little more gentle. The Order won't pay as much if the child breaks."

Allen was lifted off the ground, where he cursed and scream and fought as they dragged him past the noble and behind a set of door.

He paused, if momentarily, to take in the new sight as they moved throughout the new room. There were barred cages spread hapazardly about, the metal barely shining in the candlelight. And every single one of these cages housed at least two children. Each one with a hopeless, dead look in their eyes. Each one broken.

Allen renewed his fighting spirit with more ferocity.

"Stop squirming," one of the men hissed with annoyance, both of them reaching an empty cage. He pulled that open while the other one shoved him in. With difficulty. "Damn, this kid is a demon."

Normally the nickname would sting him just the tiniest of bit. Right now however, he rather enjoyed it. If these idiots wanted to consider themselves human.

A faint snapping noise could be heard as Allen was finally thrown in. Pain laced his wrist but he paid it no mind, turning to the door of the cage. It slammed shut as he rammed his shoulder into it.

"Let me outta here, ya stupid brutes," he yelled, making the two men step back in surprise. Normally they weren't scared of children but the fire Allen had in his silver-gray eyes further amplified his look of hatred. He looked like a demon indeed. "Let me out!"

"Let's go," one finally said to the other, the men immediately heading towards the nearest exit.

"Where the hell are you two going! Get me the fuck outta here! Hey, I'm talking to you! Hey!"

The only response he got back was the sound of a slamming door. Sighing, Allen relaxed and slumped against the cage. As the pain he forced away returned, he held his wrist up to examine it.

For a moment, he thought the snap he had heard meant that something was broken. Nope, that was just his bindings that had come off. A strong thing of rope that dug into his skin before it finally had enough. The markings left behind on his right wrist was red and angry, some parts of it bleeding.

"...Brother..." he heard a soft, scared voice say off to his right. Allen tensed before glaring in that direction.

Two boys sat in the cage beside him. Both had bluish-black hair, pale skin, and rich, deep blue eyes. Twins. Not just any twins either. Their attire, albeit ruffled, was something a child of nobility would wear. And Allen knew, as he would normally scorn at them. As it was now, he simply didn't have the energy. In fact, the day itself was taking it's toll on him. His kidnapping... Mana's... Mana's...

No, he couldn't think it even if he tried. He didn't want to. So Allen swallowed the hard rock that settled in his throat and closed his eyes when they began to sting.

"Excuse me?"

Snapping his eyes open, Allen went to glare at whoever spoken. He didn't find it surprising in the least to see that it was one of the twins. The one with his bangs parted to the left ducked behind his brother. So he was the shy one of the two.

"Whaddya want," Allen grumbled, not particularly caring for company right now. He wasn't in the mood. Then again, he never really was.

"Does it hurt to want to have a conversation," the boy asked.

"Bug someone else."

"Yeah but they're all..." The boy trailed off. Not that he had to complete the sentence. Allen understood fairly well. The other kids were too broken. Too far gone. Any conversation would be meaningless. "My name is Ciel. Ciel Phantomhive."

Of course. With a silly surname like that, he had to be a noble. And the child even shoved his right hand through the bars as if asking for a handshake. Allen stared at it, weighing the pros and cons of even speaking to him.

Pros: Less boredom.

Cons: They'll keep talking to him.

Well, they'll keep talking anyways, he was sure. And while Allen was going to work on escaping (like hell he was going to give up) but extreme boredom would be a factor. It didn't mean that he was going to shake the noble's hand.

But should he continue to keep the name Allen or...

No, he probably shouldn't. Allen was the name Mana had given him and thinking of Mana... Well, it hurt. It really did. Gah, he didn't mean to get that close to the man. Just to take care of him. To make up for what he did at the circus.

So he discarded the name that held a positive, if painful meaning and looked up at the boy's eyes. The hard, silver-gray met with the deep, gorgeous blue.

"My name is Red. Just Red."

†††††††

*£7800.85 is equivalent to $9954.70

†††††††

I have decided to rewrited Tainted Innocence since I had felt that this story could be better and was not satisfied with how I had currently written it. As such, I will be fixing it. ^_^ Please review and tell me if this better than what I originally had.