(I'm quite a push over, aren't I. One request and I make a sequel to "Unforgiving". To be honest though, I'm relieved to have written this. I felt that Unforgiving needed a proper ending. It was also a good opportunity to try out present tense writing, which I've come to absolutely love! If you haven't read "Unforgiving" yet, I'd highly recommend reading it first. It's my very first story. However, if you haven't read it and don't like extreme violence, I'd suggest moving on to a different series. Anyways, please make sure to review! I value your opinion! I'd also be especially grateful if you were to review each chapter. Anyways, enjoy!)

Third POV

Alvin doesn't sleep at all tonight. He lies in his bed staring at the ceiling. The thin sheet beneath him is drenched in sweat and his little paws tightly grasp the blanket, holding it up to his chin. His eyes constantly dart from the ceiling, to the door, and to Simon's bed, hyper with unrelenting anxiety and anticipation of the possible events to come. It's going to be a long night.

Alvin rolls over to face towards Simon, simply to keep an eye on him. He recalls the vague memories of his dream, 'No...no, not a dream. A vision...', he thinks to himself. 'I don't remember there being any windows of any kind in that building. I have no idea what time it's supposed to happen. Just...the knifes, the pain...funny. It felt so real.'

Then, the fearful chipmunk catches movement in his glazed over eyes. Alvin reacts in microseconds and closes his eyes to pretend to be asleep as Simon sits up in his bed.

Alvin breaths extremely shallowly, as if it would help to not draw attention to him. Nothing happens. Everything is silent except for Theodore's soft snoring and the quiet whirling of the night fan.

Minutes pass...but nothing happens. Alvin's heart beats faster and faster as time goes on, filling his being with anxiety. His eye lids slowly part. Simon is no where to be seen. Alvin lifts his head and scans the room. His gaze stops on Theodore, sleeping so peacefully. A scream and Theodore's agonized expression suddenly flash in his mind, making Alvin flinch and his breathing quicken. He takes a deep breath and sighs in an attempt to reduce the stress that has been ravaging his mind ever since the vision. Alvin sits up and props himself on his elbows, thinking about what to do. 'Oh God...how am I supposed to stop this from happening. I-I'm so scared...'. Just then, Simon walks into the room with a small glass of water.

His expression seems shocked at first, maybe even irritated, but it fades faster than it came, "Alvin...w-what are you doing up?"

Alvin simply stares with a blank expression, yet petrified and unable to move or speak.

Simon smiles and walks towards Alvin's bed side, the latter watching his every movement, "Alvin? I feel like there's been a lot of tension between us lately.", says Simon as he sets the water onto their night stand before laying his paws onto his older brother's bed, "Do you think you could give me a hug? I feel that we haven't in far to long a time..."

With that, Simon holds up his arms to Alvin, continuing to smile. Alvin though continues to stare, 'Why's he trying to touch me? I bet he has a kitchen knife in his hoodie right now!', Alvin thinks to himself all the while keeping an eye on Simon.

Simon simply stares back for a moment...then decides to make the first move, broadening his grin a little to reassure the red-clad chipmunk he meant no harm by this as he jumps up onto the bed spread and attempts to pull Alvin into a hug.

Alvin cringes when Simon's arms wrap about him, but then feels paws run soothingly through his fur, making his muscles relax slightly. 'I'm not much of a hugger.', a random memory crosses Alvin's mind. Simon had said this back at an air port one time when they got to meet their Aunt Jackie. Puzzled even further now, Alvin's anxiety wells up inside him once again and he starts looking for any knifes or clamps or anything Simon might have concealed. It's as Alvin returns to his search for weapons that he notices Simon remove his right arm from their hug which proceeds to slip into the depths of his hoodie pocket. Alvin makes no second thoughts as he head butts Simon square in the nose and grabs and twists his right arm, making him gasp in pain as well as drop the syringe he was holding. No hesitation, no remorse, fury controlling him now, Alvin grabs the syringe and jams it as hard as he can up Simon's neck, the needle skewering his jaw and tongue and scraping the roof of his mouth. Alvin's eyes widen in horror and he pushes himself back with his legs, gazing in shock at what he'd just done.

Simon coughs twice and carefully grasps the syringe, wincing a little as he then pulls it out from his head. He stares down at it then looks at Alvin, "How did you-...Alvin?", Simon contorts his face into an expression of absolute hatred and anger, "I-I'm going to paint the walls with you!"

Alvin wants to scream, but in a blur of blue and brown, Simon already has his paws wrapping about his neck, squeezing as tightly as possible. Alvin paws at Simon's iron grip, desperate for air! Slowly, his vision fades, and he whispers, "n-no...", as he realizes he failed, despite knowing this would happen.