The streets of London under Queen Victoria seem peaceful enough during the day. However, when night descends they become a scene of hunger, cold, pain, and desperation. It was no different for the young woman cuddled up in the corner of a dead end alley. The term "woman" is used lightly here as she was barely eighteen. That and her round face gave her the appearance of a child. Only her form, which she desperately tried to hide, revealed her age. She was cold, and tired. Maybe a little sick, she didn't know, and no one cared anyway. This was not the life she wanted, or even the life she was promised.

She was supposed to be a servant, a maid. Isn't that the reason she studied the teacher's lessons on how to be a proper maid so hard? The life of a maid in some rich man's house was guaranteed to her when she was young. So why was she here? Why could her wish not come true? It's not like she wanted to be a princess, or even a lady. A servant, that's all. Yet all the lords and ladies had refused her for one reason or another. "She's too short", one had said. "She's too pretty! She'll take all my husband's attention." said another. 'How?' she thought at the time. "Too clumsy" "Too hyper" "Too young". These were all the superficial things that had kept her from her dream.

She began to cry softly to herself until she remembered another reason for their refusal. "Too weak." She angrily ran her arm across her eyes to dry them. She practically folded in on herself, shivering, as a gust of wind racked her body. 'Why? Why this? Why me?' she questioned. Her name was Mana and she had all of her dreams broken, crushed, and spat on.

Her dream was as follows; she wanted a home with a kind master or mistress with a child to belong to. She wanted to be able to become a nanny to a young lord or lady and have playing with the child and spoiling it to be one of her household duties. She had always liked children, as long as they weren't too young. A teenager maybe? No, that was too close to her age. Fourteen at the oldest or they wouldn't look up to her. Though to be honest, she hadn't grown much taller since her own fourteen birthday. She smiled fondly at the dream she would probably never have and gently fell asleep.

Morning came as it must, and with it came the busy bustle of the city. Mana sighed to herself as she was woken with a start. "The hunt begins again" she muttered under her breath. The "hunt" referred to her search for employment which had so far been unsuccessful. She got up, dusted down her rags, and used her fingers to comb her long white-gold hair. All day was spent bowing, asking, and even a little pleading to shop keepers to take her in as a worker. Everywhere she went she was met with the same response; "Sorry hon, but we just can't afford ya." She sighed to herself, 'Another fruitless day.' She was standing outside of a pub when she overheard a conversation between two men.

"No, I'm serious man! I saw them! The demons!" said one. "Heh heh, yeah right. Maybe you're already drunk." said the bartender.

"No way barkeep, I haven't touched the booze in two weeks! I really saw them!"

"Which ones, huh?"

"The young master and his butler! You know, the one that looks like the late Earl Phantomhive? He said that since his last contract ended, he needed a new one."

"People are still stupid enough to sell their souls to those devils?"

"I guess so. It is said that the demon will grant your wish before they devour your soul."

"Would you do it?" asked the bartender.

"Hell no!"

The two of them began to laugh as Mana left, her heart beating fast. 'A demon earl that looks like a young boy? Demons grant your wish in exchange for your soul?' A smile began to spread slowly over Mana's face. She ran to the library, risky plan in mind.