A/N: Yay my first review! woot! To all my adoring fans: (crickets chirp) sorry this chapter is so short, the fic has a lot written but it needs to be seriously revamped. So ch 3 won't becoming for a while.

hey red thanks for the review, fresh! That's one I've never heard before. Beg? Oh I won't make you beg but where the hell is Chapter 20 of the Acolyte?

Next morning

I threw up again. Oh God. I just woke up and I could barely crawl over and throw up away from where I lay. I don't know what to do all I can do here is lay here. Am I dying? I can't stop shaking; I think he's going to kill me. I'm terrified at what he will do when he comes back. Oh God oh God I hear him I can hear his footsteps, he's wearing boots over his talon feet. He opens the door.

The thing I do, the only thing I do is simply curl up into a ball and wait until its over. He prowls over to me, menace hovering in the air around him. I cry silently split between my fear of death and my hatred of my life. The monster is sniffing the vomit again making sounds I can't even begin to understand, but there seems to be a vague hint of antipathy in them. Then he's on me and all of my fear comes surging back. I want to live! Fight! Fight! My brain instinctively cries. So I give in to useless struggle and I'm fighting and biting this personification of evil helplessly. Naturally my panicky thrashing did nothing to help my situation; the beast merely pried me loose and pushed me down using his weight.

Now my fear was beyond any comprehension, it was just the blank terrified state you become seconds before you die a horrible death. But I knew he was planning worse than death. I just lay still.

After a few minuets my mind returns, I realize he's not eating me…or anything else. Instead he's just smelling me, again.

He smells my hair, from scalp to ends; he smells my face and once again licks off my tears of terror. My neck my shoulders my chest, by abdomen. He finally hovers around my lower abdomen sniffing rapidly. My fear resurfaces slightly is he going to…? He finally relents the olfactory assault and stares at me expressionless, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Just as abruptly he grabs me roughly and easily lifts me up. I'm still terrified but my rational mind has gained a bit of control so I don't do anything to annoy him like scream or struggle. He carried me into the other room, higher up in the church basement, the smell of blood gets stronger…

Unknown time

I passed out, His victims were still fresh. I thought there would be blood and guts everywhere but he's a surprisingly fastidious creature. But that does deny the horrible grisliness of his "art", there are corpses, there are bones and flesh.

I'm watching him now trying to stifle my horror as he reaches for a flayed skin, a young man I think, definitely black. He happily stitches it to another skin, a very light shade. I see him hold it up to the light, enjoying the color contrast. I'm laying on a table which I CANNOT stand because this table is where we-

So I get up and stand around stupidly. The beast appears to ignore me, I have no idea what to do. I stand until he reaches for another skin then I retreat into a corner it cowering underneath a horrific quilt of people. Men, women, a few children he made no discrimination based on skin color, a twisted version of those happy diversity pictures they'd pass out in grade school. An equal opportunity monster.

All these people, I think as I cry silently, there all dead, kidnapped, killed, flayed, eaten, their remains disrespectfully displayed as amusing decorations, and I'm the only one alive. Why?

I look down at my hand in the dim light, my skin is a light shade of brown; my long dark hair hangs around me like a curtain. Even if he doesn't want my skin why not eat me? I don't taste good? I wonder vaguely how I taste and shudder. But no other victim that I've seen, male or female has ever been-

He stands up suddenly and I immediately freeze, goggling in terror up at him but he only walks over to add to his homely 'quilt' he continues to ignore me. Why aren't I dead? Sometimes I wish he would kill me so I wouldn't have to wait like this anymore. I have no clue what he wants or what he plans to do with me. At least the deaths of his victims are relatively quick. They didn't have to wait for days on end to learn of their fate.

I'm so miserably unhappy and self pitying that I don't notice him until he's in front of me. I jerk up in surprise and I find him gazing at me in a half-amused, half-exasperated "what- am- I- going- to- do- with- you?" expression and I hastily lower my eyes. I desperately want to know what he's thinking but he will not, or can not speak, and I can't bear to look at his horrible face. So I sit there my head lowered cowering silently.

Now I'm regretting my death wish. I couldn't stand not knowing my fate but to see him lording over me, sneering at my helplessness and cowardice, he just oozes malicious intent. Please monster, don't kill me, just let me go.

As the seconds tick by, I can feel my sense of dread growing, surely he is just teasing me, the air probably reeks of my fear. I see his prehensile toes twitching in impatience and now I am-absurdly- beginning to feel a little ashamed, like a dog that messed on the carpet. What does he want?

After I can't bear it any longer I finally look up he's grinning that horrible grin (o my what big teeth you have!) and I just keep looking timidly up at him, trying desperately to read his facial expressions, anything to save my life. He swoops down and picks me up, I can feel the restrained strength in his hands, they're like steel pinchers, they can rip through my flesh if he wants, and he lifts me as if I weigh no more than a doll.

I really don't know what he's going to do, I don't care, I just don't want him to force me again. Again he examines me curiously and- here it comes-that awful sucking sound as he breathes my scent again. Is this how he gets off? I don't care but not again please not again. As I'm limp and pathetic I noticed my increased sense of smell, not only can he smell me, I can smell him. He smells, well he doesn't smell bad, you would think something so frightening and unnatural and horrible would smell like rotting flesh or something but he doesn't. He smells like, I take a deep whiff, he smells almost like earth. Wet earth-or silt or something similar. Something I know, it seems natural and is deeply imprinted in my memory.

Why the hell am I doing this? I'm nearly hysterical, I think I'm numb, I'm sick I'm probably dying but my curiosity peeks out, and my fear diminishes slightly. He knows what I'm doing. I can see it in his eyes, they're widening, is she smelling me?, he must be thinking that. He laughs, it's an utterly bizarre sound, like braying, he even snorts a bit. I smile weakly back despite myself, laughter is good, laughter means he amused with me, and maybe he won't kill me.

Then he pushes his nose against mine; I'm looking right into his eyes, he smells deeply again. He seems happy but I'm freaked out again. I began squirming and panicking, no no don't eat me don't force me again, put me down, put me down. He pulls away slightly his eyes wide he makes something that might be a sigh, or a screech, and sets me down. Eyes glittering he nudges me slightly towards the table. I back away and shake my head forcefully and retreat to that hole that has become my home, anything to get away from this bizarre creature that can kill me-and worse at a whim.

So now I'm in the darkness wondering whats going to happen, replaying his motions and reactions in his head, trying to guess my fate, because my life totally depends on his good humor.