Chapter 1

The young boy was powerless as he watched the intimidating man strike down a woman with his sword. He felt the heat of flames engulfing his home and saw the motionless corpses of many people lying on the floor. His body was paralyzed in terror.

The unknown man lifted his blood stained blade and slowly wiped it clean with his white gloves immediately removing them from his hands and throwing them at him. The boy glowered menacingly at him.


He screamed furiously and charged at the man but before he knew it, the hilt of his sword had connected with his ribcage and sent him flying against a wall. He stared down at the boy with flaming lavender eyes and a sardonic sneer.

After that the world faded into darkness.



He shot up from bed panting and sweating heavily. Lately that nightmare was becoming much more frequent and increasingly real, almost as if it were not even a dream anymore.

"GET UP NOW!" a man came barging into the minuscule cubicle that was his cell "I SAID NOW NUMBER TWELVE!" the robust man grabbed Number Twelve by the hair and jerked him up. "Didn't you hear what I said, eh, Slave?"

"M- My apologies Carl-sama" The young boy shivered under the slave trader's hand.

"Good." He threw him against the wall "We have a very important guest today, Number Twelve. If you wanna get outta this dump ya better behave."

Number Twelve quickly stood up and rubbed the back of his head. He maneuvered expertly the shackles on his wrists and ankles to stand up. He was so used to them by now that it almost seemed as if he had worn them for his whole life, although for all he knew, that might actually be the case. As far as he could recall he had always lived chained and trapped in this place. Number Twelve was what they had always called him.

Things don't need names; Carl had said; only people have those. Number Twelve could not argue with that, he was a thing after all, a slave.

As soon as he stepped out of the cell, Carl adjusted a collar around his neck and dragged him down the eerie corridors. They walked past many cells some of which were currently unused; Number Twelve figured the slaves who used to be there had been sold, killed or simply thrown away after being rendered useless. He wondered which fate awaited him behind the huge iron doors just ahead.

He had never been out in the open before, at least not that he could remember, and a part of him was somewhat afraid of the outside world. He felt unprotected and vulnerable when he was forced to leave the safety of his cell; plus, the outside was a completely unknown world to him. And so it was that when the heavy gate slowly parted and sunlight filtered into the dark torch lit building, Number Twelve had to cover his eyes, but even then it was not enough.

He pressed his hands harder against his face and rubbed his eyes frantically. It was far too bright; he thought was going to go blind. Suddenly he felt a strong tug at his neck. He could not regain his balance in time and he stumbled onto the ground.

"C'mon boy, get up before I lose my patience!" Carl shouted at him "And stop scratching your face! Chief Ayanami's looking for a slave not a rat!"

He did as his master commanded and strived to keep his eyes open as much as he could and endured the pain. His vision was blurred and it was almost impossible to make out any shape or object, all he could see were a million different bright colors burning his eyes.

They came to a halt and Number Twelve finally managed to focus his sight slightly and address the situation at hand. Standing in line next to him were some of the other slaves that he usually trained with and in front of him there was Carl flattering some man, who seemed to be uninterested in his words, surrounded by a small group of people in matching dark uniforms.

Number Twelve was taken aback the moment the man's eyes fell upon him and refused to look away. Not being yet used to the brightness of the sun, he could not really tell what kind of face he was making, or even if he really was directly staring at him. Still, he did not dare stare back; slaves were not allowed to face people.

"You" the man spoke, his voice strong and commanding "Tell me your name"

"Ah, I see you have a very keen eye sire." Carl interjected "This here" he said pointing at Number Twelve "is one of the last survivors of Rags War."

Disregarding the slave trader, the tall man slowly started approaching said slave. Some of the people that were accompanying him watched him suspiciously.

"I gave you an order" he said stopping in front of the young slave.

"M- My name sire?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, your name. What is it?" the man asked impassively. For some reason the man's voice filled Number Twelve with an overwhelming fear.

"I do not have one my lord. I am but a slave. Things do not require names" he repeated his master's words as he had been taught to.

"I see." The man turned to address Carl "Trader, what is this slave's name?"

"He doesn't have one. Y'see when we found 'im he was lost and didn't remember his own name, sire."

"How do you know he is a survivor from Rags then?"

"We found 'im wandering 'round the Rags palace. 'E seemed to be lost so we took 'im in." Carl explained.

"Hmm…" the man faced Number Twelve once again. "Rags palace?" his lips twisted into a malicious smirk "Look at me boy, show me your face" he ordered.

He looked at his master to see if he should follow the order he was given. Carl, his current master, nodded, so he complied reluctantly. As a slave he did not really have a choice but to obey, even if following orders meant breaking the rules and getting killed for it. If those were the master's wishes he was in no position to doubt them.

Ayanami watched with interest as the fearful boy raised his head slowly. He took notice of his eyes, devoid of all desire to keep on living. It almost seemed that, had it not been for Carl taking him in as a slave, he probably would have died years ago. Such a pathetic cowardly existence was of no use to him, or so he thought.

Number Twelve could not really explain what took over him the moment he saw the man's lavender eyes leering at him. He felt as if he had been possessed as an unfamiliar rage burnt inside him. His whole body tensed and an overwhelming bloodlust crept from the pit of his stomach. It was HIM, the man from his nightmare, and he was standing right in front of him.

He could not concentrate on anything besides the need to kill that man and smile at his dead body lying on a pool of his spilled blood. He did not care about the consequences, even if it meant dying himself he had to destroy that monster.

Ayanami could not help but grin wickedly at the look in the boy's eyes. Those blood lusting eyes filled with hatred, they amused him immensely.

"Do you hate me?" he asked the boy, and what happened next amused him even more.

DO YOU HATE ME? The words echoed in Number Twelve's head as images from his nightmare kept flashing through his mind.

IF YOU DO, THEN COME AND TAKE YOUR REVENGE. Number Twelve lunged at Ayanami and tackled him to the ground, gripping his neck with both hands.

Carl made it to grab the chain around the slave's neck but was abruptly stopped by one of Ayanami's men. "Leave it" he said smiling pleasantly at Carl "He's not chief just for show…"

I SHALL BE WAITING.Number Twelve's grip tightened as he allowed his body to be completely taken over by wrath. "Te- i- to" he muttered lowly between gritted teeth making Ayanami's sadistic grin even wider.

"TEITO KLEIN!" he screamed in fury as he raised a fist and connected a punch on the man's jaw "MY NAME IS TEITO KLEIN YOU BASTARD!" he shouted as he raised it again to land another punch that never hit.

In a swift motion Ayanami pushed Teito's hand away, quickly grabbing for his weapon with his free hand. With a single fluid movement he unsheathed his sword and hit the boy with the hilt, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. In a second he was looming over the slave with his blade pressed threateningly over his neck.

A low malicious chuckle escaped the chief's lips as he watched the boney figure struggling under his weight despite all common sense. This would certainly make things far more entertaining. What better way to add a little excitement to work than keeping close to you someone constantly attempting to take your life?

"Well, seems like Aya-tan found himself a toy to play with…" Ayanami's subordinate commented comically releasing a very nervous and sweaty Carl.

"A- Ayanami-sama! My deepest apologies! I will see that this slave gets what's coming to him! You need not worry I shall-."

"We'll take him." Ayanami replied unmoved, rising from the ground and brining the boy with him.

Teito kicked and cursed desperately trying to break free from the man's grasp to no avail. It only served to annoy him further leaving him no choice but to knock him out with a strong blow to the stomach. As the world faded into darkness Teito wondered if being bought by Ayanami was a blessing or a curse. From now on his chances to murder Ayanami would only increase, but he would probably be killed before he could succeed.

"And not a word to anyone about what happened here today." Ayanami added glaring at Carl and his remaining slaves.

A/N: So, this is my first fan fiction on the 07-Ghost fandom. I hope you like this introduction, it's been gathering dust (I know it's not possible) in my computer for a while, I didn't know whether I should upload it or not, but there you go.

Hope you liked it. If you have any comments on it, criticisms or whatever, your feedback is highly appreciated.

To be continued…