Chapter One:

"There is no doubt in death, but life is full of doubt. It is a poison you cannot escape. So why? Why do I see no doubt? I want to know. Will you show me the face that sees no doubt?"

Most people would think me weirdly disconnected with reality, but that isn't so. Of course, it is true that I have a habit of ignoring everything around me in favour of a more surreal place, but that is because I am aware of what the world is like. I know full well how ugly it can be, and the weight of living which bares down on everyone. All that responsibility and constant struggle just to make it through another day is exhausting, futile. Ludicrous.

Which is exactly why I like sleeping much more. Sleep is gentle. Sleep is safe. Sleep is the warm embrace of a mother's arms as she shields you from the future. It is the caress of morning dew on unblemished skin, and the soft breath contentment against your cheek. When I am sleeping I do not have to think about anything, or fear the hearts and minds of others. It's a kind of liberating oblivion in which my subconscious is free to come up with its own fantasy, where the world does not crush me with its intolerant nature.

I have always enjoyed things this way, my real life dulled by drowsiness, my mind full of serene make believe settings. Purple skies, fields of gently waving grass, flowers like pinwheels twirling in the wind, a soothing atmosphere in which I am safe to dream of the unattainable notions like peace, freedom, and contentment.

Heart beat slow, muscles like liquid, breathing gentle.

Yet something has changed recently. There is a subtle invasion of disquiet at the edges of my mind. An unease that upsets my dozing, shifting me back to the waking world with a churning stomach and a hitch to my breath. It's started simple, at first. A faint strain as I tried to lose myself in my dreams, a peculiar anxiety eating away at me when I woke. Eventually I found myself incapable of nodding off completely, instead lying there with my eyes clamped shut but unable to block out anything more. Then it became something worse; at first it was just a slow rot, but one that quickly spread. Suddenly my haven was poisoned, and it crumbled like ash.

The nightmare that invaded my head was always the same. It constantly loomed over me like some sort of condemning executioner, and it leapt at me with its fangs bared whenever I began to drift off. It swallowed me whole and left me buried on a blood soaked battlefield. With lifeless corpses all around me, and abandoned weapons reaching to the still, overcast sky, like grave markers. I am the only living creature for miles amongst the carnage, suffocating.

I struggle against an unbearable grip that holds me down in the mire, chains that bind me to my own resting place. I am driven by a desire I do not understand, for at last I should have peace, but there is fear in my gut, a cold sensation that will not be denied. I grapple, writhe, claw for the sky, crazed with a instinctual desperation. My life is hanging by a fine spider web that is quickly fraying, and oh god I must escape but I cannot, and I-

It's at this point that I always wake, nauseous and filled with stress. I have to force myself to sit still, breathe deeply, and remember that it was only a dream. Deep down I can still feel the terrible talons gouging away at me when I cannot fight against it, when I am distracted. I know when I close my eyes again, the beast that is devouring me from inside, whatever it may be, will consume me again.

A week after the dream started appearing, I stopped sleeping properly, and only drifted off for a few short minutes when I could no longer keep my eyes open. I sometimes found myself wondering if this meant something. Dreams were supposed to have some sort of subconscious idea behind them, right? Especially recurring ones? Truth to be told, I almost thought I should see a councillor about it, or something. I didn't though, because it seemed there was no councillor who could help me, I didn't not need someone poking around in my mind. I figured I would stop having the nightmare after awhile anyway, once I stopped letting it haunt me.

In the meantime, I pretended to sleep as though nothing was different. It wasn't like anyone noticed. I never participated anyways, and even when people had made the effort to include me in their circles, it generally just failed spectacularly. My social skills were weak at best, because I ended up assuming too much, and it seemed to make people uncomfortable.

Although, the new kid, Yuki, seemed pretty persistent. He sat behind me and greeted me everyday. I almost felt bad for not answering, especially since he always seemed to wait a half second, as if hoping I would reply. It was that graciousness that had quickly earned him the favour of the class. Of course, they always told him not to bother with me, since I never really spoke to anyone, but he kept it up anyway. Polite, fair, and friendly. I really had no reason to be so difficult towards him, but the first few days I was too busy trying to sleep properly to give him a second thought, and after that I had become somewhat irritable and distracted given my new infliction of insomnia.

He had been here a week now, almost as long as I had been having the nightmare. This would be the beginning of his second week, and I half figured he would give up on me now. Especially since a weekend had passed. He was probably settled in, and had a bunch of people around him, vying for his attention. It wasn't even just our class. Apparently he lived with the Giou's, which meant he was part of a fairly big household. He had no reason to continue making an effort towards someone like me, when he had all of them.

"Good morning, Hisakawa-san."

Or not. He surprised me again with his persistence, and maybe it was because I was surprised that I answered. Or maybe it was because I had been thinking too much about it, instead of trying to sleep. Hell, if it weren't for his equally astonished expression, I might have thought he was some hypnotizer.

"Mhm, morning," I mumbled idly.

Instantaneously his eyes widened, and his lips parted a little in shock. Now that I took the time to look at him, I realized another reason why he was fairly popular. He had an unmistakably gentle air, and good looks to go with it. In fact he was cute enough that it almost seemed girly, in a way. His eyes were large, and framed by long lashes, and he had soft looking bronze hair. His skin was pale, and his features were delicate. It was... Ethereal?

Not that I got long to contemplate, because abruptly I realized that those nearest us had taken notice of of Yuki, and by connection, me. I could feel the weight of their eyes on me, judging, evaluating. It was rather disconcerting when for so long I had remained invisible to their eyes. Now I was in their field of vision, something alive to be taken note of, even if only because their precious transfer student was still bothering with me.

"Um, how are you?" The new kid spoke, smiling. I also noticed that he shifted slightly to block out everyone else. I wondered if it was an intentional thing to put me more at ease, or if it was simply a coincidence

"I-" was I really going to speak to him? I mean sure, he seemed like a great guy, but on the other hand the bell was going to ring soon. If it interrupted us, would that mean I was obligated to continue the conversation after class ended? On the other hand he definitely seemed genuinely pleased that I had final responded to his efforts. I might even feel bad if I brushed him off now.

Wishing I could go to sleep so I would not have to deal with these kind of troublesome things, I let my eyes slide shut, and a yawn escape, before offering a noncommittal hum. Perhaps not the most energetic reply, but a reply all the same. If the new kid was as understanding as he seemed, no doubt he would accept that I was not an interactive person.

Before he could say anything else, a number of girls made their entrance, loudly calling his attention away from me, saying "Giou-kun, Giou-kun," like bleating sheep.

I took this chance to lie my head down on the desk, and fell into the familiar darkness of oblivion. Hopefully I would escape my nightmare for once and for all. Then things could go back to normal and I could pass through the days cradled in my whimsical dreams. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were before I was plagued with strange demons. It was easier that way.

Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. The minute I thought I was about to drift off, someone bumped against my desk, jostling me awake. Looking up, fully prepared to send someone my best glare, I discovered that it was the fearsome Renjou, a classmate of mine that everyone seemed rather intimidated by, despite being one of the well-regarded Giou's. I could not speak from experience, but there had been a few calamitous incidents that had been hard for even I to miss. I opted against instigating any sort of confrontation, a resigned myself to suffer in silence.

"Hey, you're in the way." The girls who had swarmed Giou-kun were shocked into silence as their fiery classmate pushed his way between them in order to speak to Giou-kun. However, before they could even muster any words, he'd delivered his message and was making his way for the exit. It was funny how quickly he seemed to remove himself from Yuki's presence.

I could not help but sigh in exasperation as the girls began to gossip, and the rude boy disappeared out of the class. Maybe it was because I had not been getting as much sleep lately, but I felt drained listening to their persistent griping. As if they had any right to expect everyone to treat them perfectly. It wasn't like they were some sort of gracious Princess, like-

Like...

I frowned as I struggled to remember where exactly that train of thought had been going. It was almost on the tip of my tongue...but now matter how much I tried, I could not figure it out. I was so intent on chasing down that errant thought which had felt eerily linked to the dream, that I missed the bell ringing and the teacher's arrival. In fact, I only snapped back to reality when said teacher slapped his hand down on my desk.

I was so startled I almost leapt out of my seat, but I quickly settled down again. Peering up at the teacher, who looked oddly triumphant, I felt my eyes beginning to droop. It wasn't worth exerting myself over, just some adult who felt like his duty was to help me to be, I don't know, more like everyone else? Like he had just seen a glimmering chance.

"Hisakawa Shizuko, how about you help hand out the papers?" He demanded, eyes sparkling, and spittle flicking all over my desk.

I stared down at the droplets through lidded eyes, wondering if I should go to the bathroom for some paper towels.

"Would you like to do that, huh?"

His voice was too loud. Irritating. "Eh?" I sighed, barely opening my mouth to let the acknowledgment pass. So irritating, with his stupid expectation and self-righteous attitude. Just looking at his foolish, doughy face was exhausting. I could practically hear his gloating. His selfish purpose was scrawled all over his face.

"You hardly ever help out, why don't we let you have a turn today, huh? You'll be doing me a big favor!"

Ah, yes, when all else fails throw in a little obligation. How boring. Like everything else, it filled me with the urge to just sleep it all away. My eyelids felt like they weighed ten pounds. "Eh..." I sighed, which pretty much meant that I was too lazy to get up, or to properly come up with an excuse.

"Come now!" He smiled, that smile stretching and stretching until I thought his face might split and pull apart, and show us all the bone and brain matter, and poison seeping around inside that mildewed head of his. He reached out, and laid his hand on my shoulder. It settled there, full of expectation, like a chain binding me to my grave.

I lurched to my feet, drawing away sharply, so that I stumbled over my own feet and had to reach out a hand to catch myself. The clumsy move drew out a round of titters from my class, and the teacher pulled back, a frown twisting up that awful smile. The air stagnated between us, question, queries unspoken but still prying away at me.

I froze, flesh heating as a blotchy flush spread across my neck and cheeks. I dropped my eyes, and focused on the desk, the floor, my twitching hands, anything. "Sensei," I began, finding my voice husky and rough from not having been used so clearly in a long time. Even talking to Giou-kun, if had mostly been whispering. "I-I, um, I'm not feeling well. Can I go to the nurse's office?"

"Wha-" he didn't get a chance to finish before I'd started to hurriedly shamble out of the class, eager to remove myself, to get away.

I headed down the quiet hallway to the office, my eyes still on the floor while I tried to control the blush I could still feel. My breathing was erratic, quick and short breaths puffing past my lips, even as I tried to quiet them, to seal my mouth in case even a whimper made it passed. I was so distracted, that as I rounded the corner I bumped into Renjou who was no doubt rushing to get to class. I was nearly sent flying, but by some miracle we both simultaneously reacted, me reaching out to grab his arm, while he hastily grabbed my other hand. In the blink of an eye I was standing straight on my feet, eyes opened wide by the sudden fright.

"Ah? Watch where you're going!" He snapped before stepping around me.

I, however, was frozen in place. Something about this filled my with déjà vu. It was weird, almost like the image of Renjou-kun had been overlapped by another. I felt strangely disconnected from the world as I hesitantly turned towards him.

"You..." I was confused... "I..." The was no way I knew him. I didn't even know anyone like him. "Who are you?"

He glanced at me over his shoulder, brows furrowed. "Don't ask stupid questions."

"No, but you..." I leaned forward, invading his personal space to scrutinize his face. That weird feeling was gone, but I still felt disconcerted. "Nothing. Just dizzy."

He scowled at me, brows furrowing. "Are you okay?"

I abruptly realized what I was doing, and stepped away, my hands clenching into fists so tightly I wondered if I would find blood on my palms later. "Sorry," I mumbled hastily.

He huffed, clearly irate and impatient at my vague responses. His retreat was hasty, leaving me to stare through slitted eyes at his back, half expecting get that strange sensation again...but no. The boy was just an ordinary boy, if not a loud, clearly energetic one. He had nothing to do with me, and the fact that I was getting into the habit of imagining strange things in the waking world and not just my own said a lot.

I needed my rest.

With that I continued towards the nurse's office, who was not in the least bit surprised to see me. This was hardly the first time I had made an appearance in her doorway, faking some illness so that I could make use of the quiet and the cots. I would do anything if it was to make an escape, and she had long since grown used to me. When once she had nagged at me, though with admittedly good intentions, now she barely looked up. Honestly I appreciated it, and as such she was probably my favourite person in the building.

Lying on the cot, with nothing but the ceiling fan thrumming above my head, I felt myself relax slowly. I took a deep breath, feeling peace wash over me. It was a comfortingly familiar sensation.

"Do you doubt me? Do you doubt me as you doubt all others?"

"No. Doubt is reserved for those with expectations, but I have vowed to forsake those things."

"Then you expect nothing of me? You wish for nothing at all? Did you not have a purpose in coming to me, in submitting yourself to servitude?"

"I won't lie. There is reason to my actions, but my reason lies outside such thing as faith, or lack thereof. At this point my future is but a waiting game. There is no doubt in death."

When I woke up, I felt groggy. My mouth was dry, and it took my eyes awhile to adjust to the midday light streaming in through the open window. For a few moments I just lay still, and tried to get my head on straight, which was pretty difficult, because the last remnants of that bloody dream were still lingering in the corners of my mind, like heavy ropes holding me down, making my limbs cumbersome and slow. I was having difficulty remembering that, no, I wasn't lying in a battlefield.

The door to the office slid open, and I nearly went flying thanks to the shock of adrenalin that went pumping through my veins at the sudden sound.

"Oh, you're awake?" The nurse commented, having peered around the corner to see what the grand and glorious crash was.

I glowered up at her from my spot on the floor, blankets tangled around my ankles.

She ignored this and went to sit at her desk. "It's already last period you know. I could get in real trouble for letting you skip off so much time." She cast a shrewd glance in my direction. "Maybe you should look into visiting the Guidance Counsellor instead? I'm not so sure that this is just a health issue...and your parents must be concerned."

I scoffed, and scrambled to my feet. "It's fine. I'll go now." Of course, she didn't know that I had just decided 'going' meant leaving the school. She might have guessed it, but I had already taken the opportunity to slip quietly out the door, and began to make my way to the nearest side entrance.

I wondered if I would someday regret my flippant attitude towards my responsibilities. Going to school, and succeeding were very important, as my parents had often stressed. If I did not do well now, it would be that much harder to find my place in the real world. Failing wasn't necessarily my goal either, but sometimes it just seemed completely ridiculous. Futile. We struggled, and worked ourselves to the bone so that we could succeed, but for what? It never ended, not until we died, anyway.

I always ended up feeling like we were missing out on something.

Of course, I was a cynic at best. Sometimes I would sit and watch all the other people going about their lives, pretending I was asleep, and wonder if there was something wrong with me. This happened a lot since the dream started keeping me from actually going to sleep. I was left to sit and contemplate just how far apart I had grown from the rest of my class. Heck, there was a divide between me and everyone. I felt like I was just a spectator...

But I knew how these things worked. As detached as I might have felt, I wasn't going to kid myself. The world was a crazy place. It would swallow you up, and in the end we were all the same, just messes of confusion, and arrogance, and selfishness. We had our good points too, but when it came down to it, we could be just as vicious as any demon.

I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed, and hopped up on the guard rail. Ahead of me was an old condemned building. It windows were all shattered, and the concrete was a stained an off-white colour. Maybe if I were a different person I would think about what had happened to it, the people who once worked there. I didn't. My eyes slid off the building to the clouds beyond it. They were lit up by the afternoon sun, which was slowly deepening into a rich gold, a sign of the upcoming evening.

I must have been walking for longer than I thought.

I sighed, aware that I should have probably started to head home. School would be letting out, and my parents would wonder where I was, if they hadn't found out about my absence from school already.

Just as I turned to go back the way I had come, I heard the sharp screeching of tires on pavement, and then a brilliant red car was hurtling towards me, whizzing by at a blatantly illegal speed. I had to stumble out of the way, my feet tangling over themselves, and is was miracle I didn't fall and get hurt.

"Stupid!" I cursed, glaring after the car where it disappeared around a corner. The worst thing about reckless drivers was that when they went, they probably would end up taking out someone innocent with them. I hesitated to just leave like that, and decided to see if I could catch sight of the license plate. Chances were they were just going to do some stupid stunt driving where the cops were less likely to notice them, so they'd probably still be around.

My quest for justice, or petty retribution, came to a stuttering halt when I heard the first explosion. For a second I stood frozen, feeling shock wash over me in waves, panic filling my mind with images of a crumpled, flaming car, screaming corpses burning inside. I didn't know if it was because of their insane driving, or if their driving had been a result of broken brakes, so they had nobly decided to turn off where they were less likely to kill anyone, but whatever it was, this was probably where I was morally obligated to do something.

I took off running towards the sound, my own speed surprising me. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline? As I ran, I fumbled for my phone, trying to remember if I had ever actually put the emergency number in on speed-dial. I hoped I had, but somehow I doubted it.

When I heard a scream, I nearly dropped said phone. I was completely unprepared for what I was about to see, I knew it would be awful, and there was a chance someone was dead, and suddenly my head was filled with images from the dream, images of death and despair, and I wanted to turn back, because what was I doing? This wasn't my problem, I could pretend I hadn't noticed anything, it was easier, so much easier to just walk away, focus on my daydreams, don't look, don't look.

It was too late, my momentum carried me around the corner. I braced myself for scorching heat, for grisly horror...

Black. What I saw was a tall man, dressed in like someone from one of those edgy punk gothic bands, or maybe he could have passed for a demon. Actually, the longer the image sunk into my hand the more I was convinced it had to be something like that. Real humans just weren't that beautiful. His skin practically glowed, and his hair looked liked raven feathers.

Then my brain caught up to my eyes, and I realized that there was another man cowering away from him, sobbing and begging for his life. Why was he snivelling like that? Well, Mr. Demon seemed to legitimately be a demon, and it looked like he was about to use some crazy satanic powers to blast the other poor sod's face to oblivion. Going by the ash drifting through the air, and the lack of a blazing inferno for a car, I had a horrible sinking feeling in my gut that told me this was not the first time, and it was probably the source of the explosions I had heard earlier.

I was right. The poor guy who had been crying got eviscerated. In that instant I thought I might vomit. He had been so desperate, he had even begged. The demon did not even hesitate, didn't flinch, his expression remained completely stony. It was... cold. Cruel. Horrifyingly detached. I think if I knew I was going to die looking into a face like that, I might just commit suicide to save myself to torment. I didn't need something like that haunting me in the afterlife.

The demon turned, and I drew back sharply, out of sight. I even went so far as to clasp a hand over my mouth to silence my erratic breathing, and wondered if he could hear the thundering of my heart.

I waited, wondering, waiting for him to appear, with his hand reaching out, that terrible purple electricity casting shadows across his frigid expression. Each beat of my heart echoed and a minute or two seemed to last an eternity. I expected him to come and take my life like a spectral Grim reaper. He didn't. Instead I heard him speaking, and I realized he wasn't alone. Another victim? Was he threatening them? Was he going to turn them into ash too? Or was it another demon?

Like a flaming moron, I leaned around the corner. Where my new found idiotic foolishness had come from, I had no idea. I knew, knew that curiosity killed the cat, and, no, I'm sorry satisfaction would not bring it back. You cannot feel something like that if your brain is not functioning. Yet, realizing all the while that I could never call Pandora names again without being a hypocrite, I still looked.

When I saw that the demon was speaking to Yuki Giou, it sort of felt like a puzzle piece had just clicked into place. At the same time, I felt the world shift under my feet. Perhaps if I had the guts to think it, I might have consciously thought that destiny had just grabbed a hold of me, and that my life from here on out was going to be very different. Instead, what I thought was: I knew it! He did hypnotize me back then.

Before I could undo what I had just done, before I could run all the way home and cower under my blankets while I erased today from my mind, I was discovered.

The demon turned with lightning fast reflexes, his violet power leaping to life at his finger tips. His eyes connected with mine, and in those stormy depths, I saw my life, so insignificant, so lame and wasted, flicker out. It died with a sad little sputter, little more than a candle flame in the face of a hurricane. It died, and I knew that it would not be remembered, not by my family, and least of all by my killer. There wouldn't even be any smoke lingering in the air, my entire existence wiped out.

Before this actually came to pass though, I was saved.

"Hisakawa-san?'

If I had not appreciated Yuki before, I certainly did now, because the minute he spoke, the demon drew back. Even if my pretty new classmate was a demon too, at that point I thought I might sell my soul to him. "Yuki-san." I could barely get the words passed my lips which had gone dry.

"Do you know her?" the demon asked, and the contrast nearly gave me whiplash. When he had looked at me, I had felt like I had been staring into the void, but when he looked at Yuki, even if I could only see the side of his face, it was like he had completely flipped, like he was the beautiful moon reflecting the glow of the sun. It felt weirdly like I was intruding on someting very intimate, which given that the conversation being may very well determine wether or not I survived this encounter, was absolutely untrue.

"Huh? Oh, yes." Yuki answered, and then elaborated further. "She's one of my friends from class."

I wondered briefly at how sincere he sounded when he was lying to save my life. We never even spoke, yet when he called me his friend even I had a hard time not believing him. Then it hit me that he was serious, and I briefly considered that there were some people in the world that were so naive it was a miracle they had made it past the age of ten. Though, to be fair, I now owed him my life, so if he wanted to be friends, friends we were.

The demon looked at me, and I could tell that he was trying to figure out how much I had seen, and what I was going to do.

I decided to save him the trouble. "Eheh, ah, see you in class Yu-Giou-san." Nothing wrong with being polite. I smiled nervously, and stepped away slowly, as if any sudden movements would turn on the demon's murder switch.

I think the world might have hated me, because as I retreated, the clouds drew away from the sun, and the light streamed down to blind me. I flinched, and I lifted a hand to block out the light. When my vision cleared, low-and-behold, the demon had decided to kill me after all, his palm only inches from my face. If it was possible, he seemed even more terrifying now, because when before he had been indifferent, now he was filled with barely concealed hatred.

"So you were alive." he said, voice glacial.

"Wha-"

"Luka?" Yuki cried, sounding surprised.

Well, he and I were in the same boat. I had no idea what I had done to spark this Luka's ire, but whatever it was, he was acting like I had killed his lover in some past life, or something. "I'm sorry!" I blurted, hoping against all hope that whatever I had done could be remedied with words.

"It is unfortunate that your opponent will be me," Luka answered, seeming to find my apology lacking.

"What do you mean?"

That's what I wanted to know too.

The demon glanced towards Yuki, expression full of regret. Well, not about having to kill me. More like regret at having to break the bad new to Yuki. "She's one of them. She's one of our enemies."

Enemies? I mean, sure I hadn't been the most amiable to the new-kid, but I didn't think it was a crime worthy of the death penalty. Who would even want to be enemies with Yuki anyway? Did they get angry that he baked them the wrong type of muffins or something? "What? No, I'm no one. I have no idea what your talking about!" If my voice shook, I pretended not to notice.

Luka looked back at me, and he did not have to say a word to convey that he absolutely no faith in my words, what-so-ever.

"I promise?" I added, my eyes darting to Yuki to see if he was going to come to my defence again. He looked torn, and I briefly felt a little envious at his faith in this demon fellow. it looked like he trusted some supernatural killer over me. Well, maybe he knew said supernatural killer better than me, but it still kind of stung. Atleast I had never blown a guy up so bad that all which was left was a stain on a wall.

"Luka, I think we shouldn't kill her. Wouldn't she have tried to fight if she could?"

See? Who wants to get on this saintly boy's bad side. It would be like kicking a puppy.

The demon hesitated, his eyes boring into me like he was going to bare all my secrets. Maybe he could. Who knew what kind of power's he had in his hellish repetoire? Eventually he seemed to find something that gave him reasn topause. He lowered his hand a few short inches, though still in the fry-Hisakawa-Shizuko-zone. "You are different," he murmured speculatively.

I didn't know how I was different, but whatever it was that stood out to him I deemed my new greatest feature.

He inhaled, and then nodded slowly. "You don't smell like them either."

I had no idea what that meant, but if it saved my life, I was not going to argue.

Taking the opportunity to put several large steps between us, no matter how superficial the protection was, I searched for words. "Look, I am sorry I saw you burning the other man, but I won't say anything..." I paused and glanced towards Yuki, thinking again that maybe he was a captive or something, and questioned whether maybe I should take measures to get him out of here too... but no. This Luka fellow obeyed him like a dog, and seemed to have made himself into the young Gious' protector. It seemed strange, but Yuki could probably handle himself.

"I can't let you go," Luka interrupted. "Takeshiro will want to know about this. If you are truly not aligned with our enemy you should have no problem accompanying us." He turned back to the Yuki, and that stupid red car which had started this whole mess, as if it were obvious that I would follow him. Maybe he just had that much cofidence in his ability to catch me if i tried to run.

For a second all that I could do was blink, blink at Yuki's awkward face, blink at the car, and then blink at the demon's back. Maybe I was in shock, but as I stared at the demon, what I saw seemed to waiver and get replaced with another image.

For a second I saw the demon standing on the battlefield from my nightmares, silloutted against the horizon in such a way he seemed like an avenging angel, which was pretty ironic. There was a sword that was as black as night in his hand, and stained with blood. For whatever reason, I could not shake the sensation that the blood was my own.

"My grief is my own, and I have made my doubt my own as well. Now I have been given my death, and all I have owned is washed away, and becomes irrelevant. There is no doubt in death."

A/N: Sorry if you were expecting an update. I decide to make these two chapters one, for the sake of my own OCD. Please expect longer chapters in the future, and that might mean longer breaks between them. I should have the next chapter out by tomorrow, assuming all goes well.