Jordan: Unfortunately, I have a life, so I haven't been able to update my stories.

Kirby: Also the fact that shes a selfish git

Jordan: AM NOT!

Kirby: YES YOU ARE! You should be updating your stories. But NOOOO, you make a NEW story!

Jordan: …er

Kirby: And you haven't even said hello to you're readers! Shame!

Jordan: Sorry, and thanks?

Kirby: You should be! Not doing you're duties as a wri-

Jordan: OKAY! I GET IT! IF YOU DON'T STOP I'LL COLOR YOU PURPLE!

Kirby: o NOT PURPLE!

Jordan: Yes,…. Purple.

As Kirby so wonderfully put my feelings together. I haven't been haven't been able to put up updates is because I am not only swamped but I am getting bored with those stories (cept for Sparks) So please excuse this. But this plot was so tempting couldn't help myself.

K/N –Kirbys notes.

A/N-My notes.

Kirby and Jordan cut!

They said I was lucky. Lucky, I was. Only a few years ago they had found another, another one of the helpless, and this one never woke up. She had been in a public bathroom, naked, and coated with blood as if a hot blanket was spread over her. The light switch string wrapped around her neck, and scars striping her arms and legs. I was…. so lucky. I could've been her, dead and cold, never able to rise again, never able to wrap my battered arms around Souta, kiss my tear stained mother, to sucked in a great gulp of air in the dew bruised air. But, I didn't feel lucky. I felt, ugly, I felt, weak and so light. I could feel that scorching blood running down my legs such as she did. But, she never felt it. She was dead she couldn't feel anything! She was the lucky one! She didn't feel those bastards inspect every aspect of her, she never felt the dread of biding her family goodbye while feeling their boiling rejection, for gods sake she never even felt the sores that rippled up every edge of her body, or the cavernous fear of his return, or any other perpetrators. She was gone, banned from this Earth she was in peace. But, I didn't feel like that, even when it was done. I could feel his hot breath, the tainted skin chafe mine, all of it grotesque in every way. How does someone like me, someone whose never done anything wrong, never stole, or drank, or even disobeyed her parents, get shoved in such an horrifying situation.

The only thing I knew…. was that I was not lucky.

Kirby and Jordan cut!

I remember very few things before the incident. I believe maybe my brain blocked out the painful images, those steps leading to the deadly conclusion. But, I do remember that…it was cold. I could feel the chapped lips, and smoky frosty breath, and the absence of a coat. I also remember, that I wasn't in a bathroom like the last victim. But instead, in the Subway I remember that the trains had stopped grumbling, and not even a conductor was in sight. Even the janitors had left to tend to other responsibilities. Though, I do not recall the time, I do remember seeing him near a clock when I first catched him in my eye. At first he was a furry image, maybe a mirage or delusion? But his shadow loomed, perilous I could feel his eyes. They were boring holes in my back; I could feel his aura, every bit of impure treading me. But I was foolish, cocky and well not careful. I shrugged of the disturbing thoughts, and kicked a pebble around as I waited on a rickety bench.

Then there was the hand.

Then the knife.

Both grazing my neck. His hand clutched my throat, while the knife brushed up near the ball in my windpipe. My breathing quickened, for I was realizing that this was NOT good. The knife went for my lips, slicking one open slightly, the blood trickled out and it tasted of rust and salt. Then a gruff voice echoed.

"Scream and I will kill you. Got it?"

I nodded, knowing that my life was at stake; he removed the knife from my broken lips, and dug his nails into my shoulder blades.

I screamed.

I screamed so loud, my ears hurt.

In an instant, he smacked his hand against my lips, and then prodded the knife near my throat. Angry of my disobedience he snarled.

"I'm not kidding bitch, I have a knife. Scream again and I will kill you!"

Slowly, he lowered the knife to my belly and began to rise with me clutching my mouth. The minute he was a foot from the bench, I kicked his shin and felt the knife bury into my belly. Thankfully, nothing really important happened with that, it just hurt like hell and slowed me down. I began to sprint, grasping my swollen stomach flowing with blood. I got at least four feet away, before he reached out for my weakness. A woman's weakness, her hair. Yanking, that monstrous man thrusted me to his dirt caked boots. I could smell the sewage on his clothes. He then kicked me, hard. Right in my hips, they suddenly began to throb; though they were unaware they'd receive more trauma than anything else on my body. He then grabbed a fistful of hair, and pulled me up, I whimpered knowing a shout would make his legs swift on me again. He pulled me in close and growled heavy like, I could see mats of black hair tossed in his face and dead cold blue eyes glare into me.

"Don't even try."

I yelped, and began to struggle, but it was no use. He lifted me high, cautious of my legs and arms. And we descended down the Subway, into a turn that was almost an alley. He then grabbed my wrist, and propelled it backward.

It cracked.

I bellowed in pain, I had never broken a bone before. Once when I was six, I twisted my ankle. But it was nothing compared to this. And to feel it shatter was a deep and dripping feeling. I began to shake, bellowing even more, and then he slapped me.

"Shut up!"

I squeaked, knowing that I was in his control. I knew he was stronger, and taller, and bigger. I squirmed in his arms anyway, he was probably irritated, because he chucked me to the concrete, and I could feel the prickles of broken glass bottles. The blood was beginning to heat and sting the wounds. I breathed fast, my heart quickening. I knew his reason for his kidnap now.

He still had the knife tucked in his pocket, and he neared me slowly, squashing the knife on my arm. His breath was sticky near my neck.

"Take off your clothes."
"Please don't."
"Do it."
"I'm a virgin."
"I don't believe you."

He then moved the knife to leave a small cut, and I yapped. I had no choice in the matter. I removed my clothes, and I remember those distinctly. Chopped up jean Capri's, a golden belt and a bleached white tank top. It was so unbelievably cold; I yearned for the warmth of my clothes as goose bumps prickled my arms like needles. I felt so exposed. My kidnapper eyed me with disgust.

"You're the worst of all the bitches."

It stung badly; I knew I wasn't a supermodel. And I had blood with glass mixed in my back, my wrist loose near me twisted not right, the fresh bruises were appearing on my skin, and lips puckering in blood

"I'm…sorry…"
He pressed his lips against mine, it was hard and harsh. I felt the cut lip sting, and he purred in his throat.

"Kiss back." He growled.

And I did.

Kirby and Jordan cut!

I was numb all over; the blood was everywhere and made me warm as the puddle glistened near me. The rapist got up, and zipped his pants, he smirked evilly. The knife was in hand, and at that moment I believed he would be the last face I'd ever lay my eyes upon. I was a goner. So I darted my eyes away, and let my left hand (my non-broken wrist) and scooped my legs up, but I was so exhausted, they drooped to my elbow. He put on his leather coat, letting it drape him and then licked his lips, tasting my blood.

I whimpered, as the knife was poked between my breasts, he growled evilly once more.
"I believe you."
"W-what?"

"You are a virgin, that's why you're alive"
My heart stopped, I was going to live? I was going to have to face my family, my friends. I almost fainted. He dipped me in his arms, and I felt odd in them, he whispered in my ear making my heart shake in fear.

"Say you love me."
"I-I love you…"

I would do anything if he just left me go to sleep in my blood in peace. He then laid a hard and painful kiss on me, teeth poking my gums.

"See you later, who are you wench?"
I couldn't believe this; he was talking to me as if I just engaged in a friendly conversation. But at that time, everything seemed ridiculous and so, surreal. He tossed me lightly, and I landed in some glass, but I was so distant that I didn't even feel them pierce my skin.

"Kagome."
"Okay, good bye Kagome."

And then he swept off. More like ran off, in a heavy trot, I could still hear the claps of his boots when he disappeared from my sight. I felt myself shatter at that moment I had been raped. Like the girls from those teen magazines that warned you about these things, but you never thought it would happen to you. I had been violated; I could die for all I know, rot in the chambers of a Subway. What would my family say? I could see my mother's disappointed face, her stern expression and her telling me of what scum I was. My brother, push me away and smack his lips and roll his eyes when he heard my name, what of my grandfather? I didn't even want to imagine. I was only nineteen, about to apply for college, stuck in the boundaries or childhood and adulthood. They would…hate me.

I soon passed out.

Kirby and Jordan cut!

I was suddenly tepid. I could feel the bumps of arms, the nooks of elbows and patter of fingers. My heart started to flutter, it was him wasn't it? Decided that he changed his mind, or wanting another round maybe? I wasn't sure, but I suddenly flinched and screamed blood murder. I wriggled to escape his grasp, but he seemed stronger. If that was even possible. Not even a budge. My eyes flickered open, revealing a new character.

He was a demon, you could tell. The waves of silver hair hovered in his face, and dog-ears twitched anxiously, I could even feel his claws tap my skin. I gasped, and writhed more, a man, just the thought pricked my heart with what felt like knives. I cried and sobbed horribly, the tears stung my lip and scars, but I didn't care. I was so frightened.

"Shh hush, its okay. It's all okay, calm down."

His voice was so soft, like honey. It matched the eyes, which were sparkling with such remorse I couldn't even bear to look at them. Whimpering, I dug into him closer, into his T-shirt. He stripped his coat off; my clothes had been drowned in a blood pumped ditch. Wrapping me up, he picked out pieces of glass, each shard more severely tuckered than the next. He held me in his arms, as if I was a bride. I was trembling, he held me close, and I could hear him curse.

"Its going to be fine, were you-"
"Yes…"
She answered for him; she didn't want to hear the words. He then sprinted, and I glanced out seeing the oranges and pinks of sun up. The whole time he held me as we raced for the hospital, as I bleed through his coat, and the stares bored at my savoir.

What was I going to do?
"Were almost there…"

"Okay…"
"My name is Inuyasha."
I fell asleep before I could answer him.

Kirby and Jordan cut!

Kirby: You also haven't done your chores; I mean look at those dishes!

Jordan: -snores- blibber, blibber, blibber….

Kirby: I'm NOT blabbering! I'm just saying you've been slipping and I…

Jordan: Blibber, blibber, blibber…

Kirby: I AM NOT BLABBERING!

Jordan: -wakes-Watcha screaming about?

Kirby: YOU! YOU! WERE ASLEEP!

Jordan: NO I wasn't! …all the time.

Okay, please review this they keep me going. Tell me any improvements, this story will be intresting I can tell.