A/N: I'm actually pretty proud of this. I've been working on it for about a month. It isn't as long as I would've liked it to be, but I think I did well as far as how it was written.


The first and simplest emotion which we discover in the human mind, is curiosity. ~Edmund Burk


Ryou's breath came in short gasps. He was hunched over, hands on his knees, trying to concentrate on getting air into his lungs. His hair fell around his face in a curtain, and his eyes were closed, scrunched up against the pain in his body. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Then he looked up with an angry resolve. He took a deep breath and straightened.

He would not be a slave.

With a loud cry of determination he, once again, charged and threw himself as hard as he could at the door that was keeping him captive. He cringed in pain as he made contact with the solid wood. The blow jarred his arm and he stumbled back, hissing in pain. He didn't even want to look at his arms. They must've been disturbing. He could imagine them, mottled shades of blue and brown and red from the merciless times they'd been used as battering rams.

He glanced at the door. It looked exactly the same. White, the paint slightly worn, the handle tarnished. It hadn't budged. But had he expected it to?

Ryou didn't even know how long he'd been in this room, beating himself into submission by throwing himself over and over and over at the door, willing it to open. Had it been hours or days? Time was meaningless here. It didn't make sense. There was a clock in the room, a small yet ornately carved wooden timepiece on the bed stand…but, as though attesting to the fact that time was meaningless in one's mind and soul, the clock would speed up, slow down, or stop entirely at completely random intervals. It never told the correct time as far as Ryou knew.

Unable to let himself just sit and do nothing, Ryou began to pace. Back and forth, wall to wall, bed to chair, door to desk, dresser to mirror… He stopped in front of the mirror. It was large, a full body mirror meant to be a helpful hand when picking out outfits (as if he would need that) but here it was just a painful reminder of what he'd been reduced to.

To him, he saw a sulking child, a lonely boy with no friends. How could one have friends when they couldn't even come to his apartment without ending up in a coma? And then he saw it. It looked remarkably similar to him. It was actually frightening, but more than that were his eyes. They were the worst part. They seemed so flat, so empty and lifeless, so cold and vacant. Was there anything inside that thing? Did those inert brown eyes ever, even once, shine with happiness, or glimmer with tears?

Or was his life being ruled by a soulless, emotionless monster?

Ryou felt the hopelessness well up inside him again. He turned to look at the unmovable white door. Then, trying to exert as much force as he could through his body, Ryou threw himself at the door.

It didn't give way.

Ryou slid to his knees before the obstacle, pressing his hands and forehead to the smooth wood. Silvery tears slid down his face, dripping onto the pale colorless carpet.

"Why?" He whispered. Then his voice grew in strength. "Why are you doing this to me!" He said loudly. He stood up, tears still brimming in his mocha brown eyes. His hand curled into a fist and he punched the door.

"Let. Me. Out!" He yelled, pounding the door with both hands. His fingers and hands hurt, the knuckles were bruised as bad as his arms, but Ryou didn't care. How many times had he been stuck in this pathetic excuse for his soul and had to sit here wondering what might lie just outside? Wondering if there was a way for him to escape somehow?

"This is my body, this is my mind. You're a thief, a liar, and a parasite, and I hate you! I'm not going to let you erase me like this!" Ryou declared to the door, not knowing if that thing could hear him or not and not really caring. It just had to be said.

He waited, hoping perhaps the door would swing open and invite him out. But it didn't. Everything was silent, holding its breath. "It isn't fair…" Ryou sighed in despaired defeat and his hand slid down to land on the door knob. Hopelessly, without any expectation, he turned the handle half-heartedly. As it turned (it always turned part way around, giving Ryou a frail hope, before it would get stuck at the lock, snuffing out that candle-like hope Ryou had been fool enough to have) he waited for it to stop.

But it didn't.

The handle turned, all the way around. Ryou stared at it in disbelief, afraid to push on the door for fear that it would be a trick too, that door wouldn't actually open. But finally he took a deep breath and pushed. The door swung wide, and for the first time Ryou was allowed to leave his soul room.

A mingled sense of thrill and hope and fear kept him on his toes as he peered outside. He was in what looked like an apartment building…his apartment building. But not the one he lived in now. The one he'd lived in with Amane and his mother. There were simple dangling light fixtures lining the hallway, patterned carpet, a flowery wall paper. His mother had always loved the gaudy, over-the-top details.

'Doesn't this make you feel like you're just living in some fancy hotel?' She'd say.

Ryou took a hesitant step forward. Right or left? There were two directions. Each direction ended in darkness though. The light fixtures were only placed around his room, it seemed. On the one side, the right, the darkness seemed almost sinister, reaching out as though to devour the light, while on the left the dark just seemed like lightless space.

Another thing about the strange hall he was in…there were doors lining the walls. A lot of doors. What would be behind them? Surely nothing would be able to surprise him. After all, he was within the contours of his own mind. Ryou warred between curiosity and uncertainty as to if he should look inside one of the rooms. What if there was something amazing behind that door? Or what if there was something out of a nightmare… He took a breath and stepped forward and was about to go into one of the rooms right across from his soul room when he heard a laugh.

It was just a quiet sound, the laugh of a small child. He recognized the laughter, though he hadn't heard it in so many years. He turned and looked down the hall to the right. He couldn't see past the impenetrable darkness though. It was a darkness that was blacker than pitch. The laugh came out of that darkness.

"Ryou-nii…" the words floated through the black to reach him. His heart clenched in longing even as fear lodged itself in his throat. He didn't want to go out in that dark. And yet…

"…Ryou-nii, come find me..." The words were soft, floating towards him through that blackness, gentle, and in a way they were terrifying.

Ryou took a step towards the lightless portion of the hallway. "Amane?" He called hesitantly. His words were met with a quiet laugh, fading farther down the hall that he could no longer see. He squinted into the dark, trying to make out any form of his sister and best friend. He took another step towards the dark, thinking that perhaps he could see her in the blackness.

"Ryou-nii…come get me…" That was it, Ryou was sure he could see her. He stepped across the unofficial boundary from the light into the dark, and immediately he was swallowed, suffocated, by the unforgiving blackness. The light behind him disappeared. There was nothing, a heavy stifling nothing surrounding him. It blanketed him, smothered him. All was silence. The only sound was the hitched reverberation of Ryou's slightly rattled breathing, betraying his fear.

Abruptly, some lights lit up; small, very small, lights that were fixed above each door. They provided tiny circles of light to guide him, but outside of the circles their light ended. They couldn't penetrate the murky black.

"Ryou-nii, come out and play." The voice came from behind him. He flipped around, heart pounding. There was his sister. She stood in the small circle of light created by one of the small illuminators above a door. Her features were hidden by the shadow her dark, tangled blue hair created. Her face was lost in darkness. She seemed to be looking up at him, but without being able to see her face, it was impossible to tell. Her quiet laugh floated around, echoing softly.

"Don't be scared of the dark, Ryou-nii." Amane giggled. "We can play hide and seek, wouldn't that be fun?" She turned her head down the hall. Ryou followed her gaze and saw what she meant. The lights above the doors were winking out. One by one, they were disappearing.

Ryou tried to stifle his instinctive fear, tried to ignore his pounding heart. He turned his eyes back to Amane.

"Let's play hide and seek, Ryou-nii." She said quietly. The door she stood beside was the last illuminated one. Ryou stood in complete darkness. She turned and grasped the handle, stepping inside and disappearing into the darkness of the room.

"Wait!" Ryou said. He rushed forward, following her in. The room itself was as black as the hallway. He heard the door slam behind him, but was too distracted to be concerned right at the moment. He stumbled forward blindly, following the giggling of his sister. "Amane?"

"Ryou-nii…come find me…look real hard, 'cuz you can't see…" The ghostly giggle followed her singsong rhyme, wafting around Ryou like smoke. He followed the sound of her laughter, suppressing the uncontrollable shivers that were sent scampering up and down his spine, ignoring the goose bumps on his arms and the hair that was raised on the back of his neck. He found a wall and traced it with his hand, using it as a guide.

Finally he found a corner, and upon turning it he found what he was looking for. His sister sat in a patch of light created by a bent reading lamp. She held a book in her hands and was flipping the pages to look at the pictures. Ryou stepped up and looked at the book over her shoulder. It was a picture album. There was a car, driving, he could make out his sister and mother inside. In the next picture the car was swerving. In the next a large truck was plowing head on into the small silver two-door car. Ryou pulled back slightly, the taint of fear making his mouth dry and bitter.

Amane's back was to Ryou and he looked down at her. She wore a fading pink blouse, he noticed. It had smears of dirt on it and holes marred its surface. A light blue skirt she wore was in the same condition. Her hair was a mess, covered in soot and dirt and ratted into tangles that would be completely impossible to get rid of.

Suddenly she stopped turning pages and lifted her head. Ryou still stood behind her. "Ryou-nii," She said almost inaudibly. "I miss you. Why didn't you come with mommy and me that day to the park?"

Ryou's eyebrows pulled together in hurt. It had been on a day that she and his mother had gone to the park that Amane had died, killed in a headlong collision with a drunk driver. Just like the pictures in the album. Ryou had opted not to go to the park that day; rather, he'd wanted to spend time with his father. He opened his mouth to explain, but she kept going.

"Why did you stay home when you could have come to the park with me…? And then we could've played forever and ever and ever. Ryou-nii, why'd you leave me?" She bowed her head slightly.

Ryou stepped forward, "Amane." He said softly, "I didn't—" He reached a hand out towards her. Suddenly she flipped around and, faster than his eyes could follow, grabbed his hand. His eyes widened and he cried out in surprise, trying to pull away from the thing that had a hold of him.

The girl (Ryou would not think of her as his sister) had tears in her skin, gaping holes where the flesh had been flayed from the bone. The skin itself was sallow and sickly, too pale, too discolored, disgusting. Her cheeks were hollow, the bones sticking out unnaturally. Empty caves were all that was left of once bright brown eyes. She gazed up at him with those empty caves, a wickedly innocent grin on her thin, decaying lips. Blood was dried onto her face and clothes. What Ryou had mistaken for dirt was actually dried crimson lifeblood. The girl's arms were as bad as her face, rotting away, thin as sticks, and yet he couldn't release himself from her grip. Her hands were clasped onto his like a pair of unbreakable shackles.

"We can play now, though…" The girl laughed sweetly. Amane's voice had never sounded so horrifying. Ryou's heart pounded. "Forever and ever. Let's play hide and seek, Ryou-nii. Forever." She said, pulling him closer to her even as he struggled to escape. "Count to a hundred." She ordered then she let him go and ran off into the dark. Her voice floated hauntingly back to him. "And no peeking!"

Heart hammering in his chest, Ryou turned and ran back in the direction of the door. That wasn't her. That wasn't her. That wasn't her. He repeated to himself over and over.

"Where'd you go, Ryou-nii?" Amane suddenly called after him. She laughed then. "Okay, you hide first… Come out, Ryou-nii. Come out and play. I'm going to find you…" Terror lent him speed, but Ryou had no idea where he was going. He couldn't see to save his life. Literally.

He stopped, trying to get his bearings. The only sound now was the harsh sound of his breathing, loud in his own ears. Amane's happy, and sinister, laughs were silent. Her rhymes and calls had faded. He turned himself around, searching desperately for some way out.

But it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. There was no indication of where to go, of how to get out. He had to fight back to urge to scream that was building up steadily in his chest.

A cold breeze suddenly hit his back and a cheerful voice whispered right behind him. "Ready or not, here I come."

He jumped, flipping around to where the voice had come out of the dark, but he was blind. He could almost feel the thing's presence, but seeing it? Impossible. He began to back up, slow at first, then more quickly. Finally he just turned and began to sprint. It didn't matter where he was going, or if he would even find the exit. He just had to get away from that rotting distortion of something that he cared about.

His progression was abruptly stopped as Ryou suddenly slammed into something. He fell backwards, landing on the hard ground. Ignoring the aches he was suffering from, he stood up and stepped forward sightlessly to examine whatever it was that he'd run straight into. His hands traced over thin lines, imperfections…his hand slipped down to the middle-right and caught onto something. He sighed in relief, twisting the handle to the door he'd found and then slammed it closed behind him.

Ryou felt weak and ridiculously happy from relief at managing to escape the thing trapped in the room behind him. He took a few moments, eyes closed, to calm down before opening them to examine the new room he was in…although it couldn't really be considered a room.

A vast plain of hills and valleys was spread out before him. A desert. The dunes sloped up, reaching into the heavens and then gently slid back down into dips in the sandy horizon. Above him was a roiling black sky. Heavy, angry black clouds twisted and writhed, never stopping, ever moving. Flashes exploded within them, lighting them up every few seconds.

Everything in the desert was stained by a bloody red moon that sat glowing over a large dune of sand, visible through a single break in the clouds. It washed a crimson light over both clouds and sand, tainting them with deep ruby.

A heavy wind shifted sand over sand, blowing waves of tiny grains onto other dunes, making the entire plain appear like a giant ocean. Ryou could see destruction within the sands as well. When the wind would shift the sand, pieces of wood and stone and pottery, everything from ordinary household items to the building materials needed to create them, would appear, as though trying to resurrect themselves out of the desert. To Ryou's disgust he even thought he saw some skeletons, ancient corpses long dead, peeking out of the sands before being smothered once again.

The only sound was the sound of the wind, coursing over the ever-changing hills, and the rumbles from the thunder above.

The last thing Ryou noticed was that the whole 'room' had an overlying feeling of anger; endless anger…familiar anger. And he suddenly knew exactly where he was.

Ryou wheeled around, fully intending to go back into the dark. What resided in this room terrified him far more than any twisted corpse, even if that corpse was his sister. But even as he reached for the black door, a gust of wind slammed at his back. The wind blew a wave of sand against the door, and then the door began to disappear. The top and bottom began to blow away, turning into sand as the wind brushed against the aged wood. More and more, quicker and quicker, the door was blown away as sand into the desert until it was no more than a charred, blackened handle that dropped, useless, into the bloody sand at Ryou's feet.

There was no escape. There was no way to get out. He was stranded in the middle of an empty blood-red desert.

A peal of thunder rumbled above him, and the wind shifted so it was blowing at his front. Another sound floated on the wind now—aside from the thunder and sound of sand rubbing against sand—a sound Ryou had come to fear and despise.

"When will you learn to keep yourself out of things that are none of your business, little one?" hissed a cold, slightly amused, voice that flowed in tandem with the wind.

Ryou took a breath, summoning up his courage. "Can you blame me for being curious about what's in my own mind?" he called out into the wind.

The wind tugged at his hair, like fingers braiding themselves in and out of the soft strands. "No, I suppose I can't." the voice on the wind chuckled. "After all, our mind is a very intriguing place. Wouldn't you agree, Yadonushi-mine?" the voice paused, chuckling again. "Even still, I'm surprised you even managed to escape, let alone make it this far…"

"You can't keep me sealed in my own mind forever." Ryou told him.

A large gust of wind pushed at Ryou, shoving him forward slightly, before the wind died down to the low moan it had been before. He could sense the demon's actual presence behind him, and he turned around slowly.

"On the contrary," Bakura said, holding up a hand. "I could seal you away for the rest of your existence, if it suited me."

Ryou tripped backwards slightly in shock. Bakura was like Ryou had never seen him before. Rarely did the demon make an appearance in his spirit form, but when he had he'd always taken on a twisted version of Ryou's own body. But this was nothing like Ryou had ever imagined.

He was tall, much taller than Ryou. He wore nothing more than a dark blue kilt-like article of clothing that wrapped around his waist and went to his just above his knees, and then wore a blood-red robe. White and gold trimmed the bottoms and sleeves, and a golden cloth was visible on the inside as well. Gold arm and leg clasps glimmered in the bloody light from the foreign moon.

Ryou could see that his body was lean, yet muscular. His bare torso and legs attested to that. His skin was dark, tanned by years of being out in the Egyptian sun, so different from Ryou's own pale skin. His hair was still white, which Ryou found slightly amusing, but it was shorter and fell around the demon's face in jumbled, chaotic points. His bright eyes were violet, a color he'd never imagined on Bakura. He'd always associated lifeless crimson-brown eyes to the spirit, but these… They weren't lifeless, although they didn't carry much more than sadistic amusement and twisted pleasure. Going over his right eye was a long scar. Two horizontal lines crossed it, giving him a battle-hardened appearance.

Bakura laughed out loud, obviously enjoying Ryou's shock. "What, little one, didn't you think I had a manifestation of my own? Did you think that I always shared your appearance? But then…after all, to you I'm nothing more than a thief." The wind gusted, fluttered the red robe that cloaked Bakura's body and he, like the door, disappeared in a cloud of sand. Ryou's eyes widened as Bakura reappeared right in front of him. "A liar…" He whispered, catching Ryou's hair between slender fingers as it blew in the smooth wind, and then he disappeared once again. The sand swirled around Ryou chaotically, blowing roughly against his skin like sandpaper. Then he felt hands, rough and gentle at the same time, slide onto his shoulders from behind. "A parasite." came the soft voice of Bakura, cold on the back of his neck. "I wouldn't expect you to realize that I was human once."

"Stop it." Ryou said, shuddering, he pulled away from Bakura. "Just stop."

"What's wrong, Yadonushi-mine?" Bakura smirked, circling Ryou. "It was you who stepped into my Soul Room."

"I didn't know that's what it was." Ryou said, looking down at the sand, shifting endlessly over his feet.

Bakura traced a line over Ryou's shoulder. "All doors eventually lead to my Soul Room on my side of your mind. Or didn't you realize that?"

"Your side?" Ryou asked incredulously. "It's my mind. None of it belongs to you, parasite."

"It may not belong to me, but it bears my taint." Bakura reached his hand up and stroked a line down Ryou's face. Ryou flinched away, taking a few steps back. The spirit continued unperturbed. "That darkness that floods the halls of your mind spreads every day, infecting your memories, your emotions, your thoughts and impressions…Your mind, our mind, is a very dark place, little one."

Ryou shivered, remembering that sinister darkness where the deformed rotting corpse of his sister had resided. "You've twisted it, ruined it. You ruin everything." Ryou whispered, bowing his head, trying to believe that the demon was lying as he so often did.

"Don't delude yourself." Bakura sneered. "I didn't create the darkness in your mind. I only enhanced what was already there. I only perfected the darkness that you've created all on your own. All the shadows that surround you: your sins, the guilt that keeps you awake at night, your most paralyzing fears, the things that you undeniably hate and despise with all your being, and your darkest most corrupt desires…I'm not to blame for those things, Hikari. I didn't create them. You did. "

"Stop!" Ryou yelled, his voice echoing over the never-ending sand. He refused to meet that violet gaze, refused to look into those piercing eyes. "You're lying!"

"You can deny it…But I know, little one. You can't hide it from me, no matter how well you hide it from the rest of the world. You try to remain pure and innocent but you're a dark creature deep down, aren't you?" Bakura hissed, his words echoing on the wind, surrounding Ryou, suffocating him as much as that impenetrable darkness in the halls of his mind. And all around him was darkness, vast, endless behind his closed eyes.

"And yet you're weak." Bakura said, his voice hardening with disgust. Ryou could imagine his face, darkened with annoyance, as clear as if his eyes had been opened. He couldn't help but wonder why he'd left his Soul Room in the first place. Bakura's voice was right in his ear, murmuring cold words that cut into Ryou's mind like razor-sharp knives. "You let your emotions, your petty, pathetic, weak emotions, control you."

"Leave me alone." Ryou said thrusting his fist out at the spirit beside him. Bakura caught his hand and pushed it back so his wrist was twisted in the wrong direction. Pain sprinted down his arm, and Ryou gasped.

"Leave you alone? But, little one, you came to visit me, remember?" Bakura mocked. His voice became icy as he sneered, "Why so afraid, Hikari? Why so broken inside?"

Ryou's knees gave out, collapsing under him. He fell to the sand at Bakura's feet, the only thing holding him up at all was Bakura's steel grip on his wrist. "It's you." He whispered, his voice cracking. He was grateful that his hair fell over his face, obscuring the sight of his confusion and pain and fear that he knew was evident in his expression, in his eyes. "It's all because of you." He said again, his voice barely audible over the wind.

"Because of me. Heh. You think you experience pain, my Yadonushi. You think you know what it is to suffer." Bakura knelt down in the bloody sand beside Ryou, forcing his face up, forcing him to meet those ice-hard violet eyes. "You think you know what is to feel the sting of loss, and you think that you know what it is to be frightened and alone… You know nothing."

Ryou stared at Bakura's face, stared into his eyes, and he tried to understand. He tried to see something in that face, something that would tell Ryou that this spirit had been human once and that he'd felt the pain and loss that he'd spoken of, and that maybe he'd been happy. But none of those things were in that face. Bakura's face was hard, cold, angry. His eyes were full of hate for anything and everything around him, his expression one of indifference, arrogance, and fury. How could someone, even a demonic spirit, live without remorse or happiness? How could the only emotions in this person before him be those of anger?

"What are you?" Ryou whispered, struggling not to break his gaze with the demon. He stood up slowly and Bakura followed him, looking down on him. "What are you?" Ryou asked again, looking up at the spirit. He continued slowly. "You have a soul, but there's nothing in it. It's just a vast empty desert burying the ruins of your past. You have a heart, but it's as black as the darkness outside this room. You don't feel happiness or love or compassion. And your mind? It's lost to your anger and hatred… You've let it consume you."

Bakura grinned wolfishly, bearing inhumanly sharp teeth. "How poetic."

"I'm serious." Ryou snapped, his face flushing at the sarcasm evident in the spirit's tone.

"Yadonushi, you fail to understand that I am an essence of darkness. I don't deny any of your clever observations. In fact, I openly accept them. That is what I am."

"How can you—"

"Wait… Do you hear that?" Bakura silenced him. Ryou listened. There was a deep rumbling. It echoed, bouncing around Bakura' soul room chaotically. It was a faded rumbling though, as though it came from…

"Outside?" Ryou asked, looking at Bakura in confusion.

"That most grand Shadow Game ever played is about to begin, Yadonushi-mine. In it the fate of the world will be determined. After this game, the Pharaoh will be defeated and I will have conjoined the Realm of Darkness with mortal Earth. Zorc the Dark Ruler will reign supreme. It's all coming to an end." Bakura explained, his face confident. "But I'm afraid that means you must return to your own soul now."

Ryou pulled away. "No, you can't send me back there. You can't trap me again!" He yelled, almost in a panic, over the rumbling that was getting louder every moment. He couldn't go back into that tiny prison. He couldn't stand to go back there. It would push him over the edge if he had to spend one more endless day in there. And if begging would prevent it, then he would willingly beg. "Please, don't send me back there." Ryou said, looking up at Bakura.

"Time is short, Hikari." Bakura said. The wind blew around them and a door began to materialize within the rushing sand. Slowly it appeared, until finally the entire door was there, solid, real, behind Bakura. The door opened a crack and Ryou could just see the white walls of his soul, he could see the cracked mirror against the wall. Bakura held out a hand, indicating for Ryou to enter. Giving him the chance to go in willingly. When he didn't, Bakura reached forward to grab his arm and drag him in, but Ryou pulled back even farther into the desert, distancing himself from the door.

Bakura laughed loudly, and then disappeared in the wind. Ryou looked around, his heart beating quickly. Suddenly Bakura's strong arms wrapped around Ryou from behind, holding him tightly, enveloping his shoulders and arms and lacing over his chest. "Time to go." He whispered in Ryou's ear. "Perhaps we can finish this conversation when the Shadow Game is finished and I return to your mind victorious." He chuckled softly, his breath cold, and pressed Ryou ahead.

They reached the door and, roughly, Bakura shoved Ryou into the room. He stood there for a moment in the doorway, looking at the interpretation of Ryou's soul as Ryou tried to get his bearings. The teen gazed around his room, noticing that there was now sand, bloody red sand, sprinkled across the floor, piled in the corners and against the wall, and Ryou knew that he'd never get it out of his soul room. It was there to stay. He looked back up at the demon standing in the doorway, Bakura as he was in Egypt, with a backdrop of blowing sand and swirling black clouds. Bakura laughed again, the cold laugh that Ryou knew by heart, echoing around Ryou's mind, chilling his blood.

And the door slammed closed.

Ryou jumped to his feet and ran to the door, his hand flying to the handle. He turned it, turned it, turned it, hoping and praying that it would open…and it stuck. The door was locked. "No…" He whispered forlornly. He knew he'd never get out, and if he did, it would be to a dying world where Shadows ruled over everything. There was no point...there was no purpose...there was nothing. Nothing but this room. Nothing beyond, nothing outside, just this small room, this small portion of Ryou's mind.

His hands fell limp to his sides, and, turning away from the door, Ryou fell to his knees and cried.


!!! 30 STORIES !!! This is officially my 30th story that I've written for Ryou, Bakura, YGO, etc. Hooray!

Review Please! I average 3 reviews as of late. That's bad for me. :( Please humor me and leave a review. My goal is 10 reviews for this One Shot. YOU COULD MAKE IT HAPPEN and know that you would personally put a smile on my face. :D THANK YOU!