Since there were reviews, as promised, heres the chapter. Enjoy!

My eyes nearly pop out of my head, startled considerably, I try to fight against him but to no avail. In an urge to try and catch his attention, I wriggle against the rocks and earn several a scratch on my shoulder in return. I cry out and accidently open my lips to his mercy; my wail reduced to a muffle. I feel the heat and lubrication of his tongue pushing through and separating my teeth; licking against them before brushing up against the roof of my mouth. I shiver for a moment and then I do nothing, hoping he would realize I didn't want this. After a second, only one of his hands are pinning my wrists above me and the other is tracing downward ;but as soon as it grazed against my bleeding shoulder it stopped and Graverobber pulled away with a smirk.

"Just what the hell was that?!" I hiss, leaping away from the wall at once and glaring up at him. All he does is chuckle and start rummaging through his bag, only to withdraw a thick strap of fabric and look at the scratch for a second.

"Sit down, kid. Gotta bandage that up before it gets infected." He glows in the illumination of the Zydrate holster which he has placed on the floor and waves for me to sit down beside him. Reluctantly I do and one of the enormous hands delicately grazes against my shoulder blade and GraveRobber sighs. "Kid, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but you're going to have to take that dress off."

My eyes widen and protectively I clutch over myself. "You pervert!" I shriek and twist away, the mitt-like hand getting jostled and lands onto the scratch. I cry out in pain and stop writhing. He shakes his head and moves his hand away from it.

"Kid, that scratch isn't exactly small nor shallow. In order to take care of it properly, you're gonna have to take off that dress." He gets up, takes off his grave-coat and hands it to me gruffly muttering I could cover myself up with it. My arms nearly dislocate from the weight of the enormous leather coat, but it would have to do. With the strength I have, I maneuver the jacket so it covers me entirely and slip the dress off; doing the best I can not for it to touch the scratch. Graverobber was watching which made me a bit nervous and immediately after I have slipped it off, I wrap the bottom around my lower half and press the inside of the jacket to my breasts so that the rest dangles down in front of my stomach; only leaving the back of my upper torso exposed, but with about half of the jacket remaining unfilled.

'Compared to GraveRobber I must be miniature' I think silently as he steps behind my curled up body and I hear his knees hit the dirt filled floor. "Don't try to pull anything, I'll feel it if you do." I mutter. That was partially true. I would feel it. Especially with the scratch I would feel if he was trying to molest me. All I hear him say is a quiet murmur to himself that he was a man and that men have needs.

'He will have to satisfy his needs elsewhere' I think disgustedly as I hear him taking off his gloves and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. The cave is considerably warm but the heat only increases when I feel one of his enormous hands against my spine and the other starts to dab at the now stinging scrape with a moist sort of fabric.

"Shit, Shilo, you scratched it up pretty good." He whistles as I start to growl quietly.

"Not my fault you kissed me against my will! How else could I have tried to- wait, you called me Shilo." I drawl and then snap into realization. He actually knew my name. Why didn't he call me it more often?

"That is your name, kid." He chuckles in my ear before I feel something thick and dry starting to be wrapped under my arm and around my shoulder and back. I bite my lip to keep from howling in the annoying pain; like having a rock thrown at you by a small child or having your finger crushed in a door. I feel the fabrics tighten slightly for a second before GraveRobber's surprisingly gentle hands pull away.

"Alright, that should do it." He says plainly and I pull my dress back over to me, but I feel him wrap his arms around where my waist would be were it not covered in the jacket of mysterious origin. He rests his head on my other shoulder for a moment as if questioning something; as though he got an answer retracts himself and then, not unkindly, says, "I'm sorry you got hurt". I flick my eyes to him for a moment, slide my dress back to its appropriate level and stand. He stands after me and scoops the Zydrate holster up from the ground, plucking a single vial out to light my way and shoving the rest in one of the large pockets of his pants. Graverobber looks over me for a minute and puts the grave-coat around my shoulders with the sleeves dangling down.

"It's a bit chilly down here." He explains softly as I look up at him. "Come on, its just a bit further now." He chuckles good-naturedly and pulls me along by the hand once more, only to the dead end of the tunnel. I blink and then frown.

"I thought you said the tunnel lead to the house."

"It does."

"How do I get out?"

"Easy."

"You know that doesn't tell me much."

GraveRobber booms laughter again and pushes aside a rock above which came out rather easily and looked quite precisely cut.

"Alright, kid, up you go!" without question or pause I'm practically thrown up through the gap and land on a parchment-colored tiled room. I land hard on my rump before scooting out of the way so GraveRobber could follow and shortly after I do, he crawls up behind me. As soon as he does so, I let my eyes wander around the room; a bit scared of the sights before me. There were glass jars along shelves across the top of the room, a table with chains standing at an angle, a silver wheel with various blades, a desk in the corner, and a sink with a record player and empty wire coat hanger beside it. Frightened by this, I scoot closer to the GraveRobber and stick to his side, looking behind him nervously only to find more horrible things of various sizes and purposes.

"Wh-What is this place?!" I shriek involuntarily and cringe at the sight before me.

"Your dad really did live a double life…" He muttered to himself, looking about with the slightest gleams of interest in the orbs of sapphire. "It's a…well, Repo Room, kid." My fright melted into fury and frustration.

'He really DID lie to me all of his life! How can my dad have done this to me!? My WHOLE FUCKING LIFE he lied to me!' Unable to stop myself, I stood and stomped over to the desk to find the transparent sheet of the Repo Man contract. The moment I read "Nathan Wallace" I wanted to distract myself. I wanted out. I couldn't take this anymore. Along the bottom he had written in the 'relatives' health' line he had written "Shilo Wallace; blood disease: septic myntophili" along with some very convincing symptoms. I slipped my hand under my wig to itch at my scalp as GraveRobber thudded around the room, looking at the organs on the walls.

"BLOOD PRESSURE WARNING! BLOOD PRESSURE WARNING! BEEP BEEP BEEP!" my wrist screamed at me. Why it chose to go off now was beyond me. But regardless, I did start to feel dizzy. I ran as fast as I could up the stairwell, but fell down at the third step.

"Shilo!" I felt the huge mitt-like hands catch me, before my world was devoured by the hungriest shadows I'd ever seen in my life.