Why, hello to you all!! Here is the next installment of your story. Not as late as the last one, but still late nonetheless, I apologize for that! Please, enjoy the chapter and immerse yourselves in what I like to call: a terror-induced haze…. But that's not to say that you will get terrified, just an expression I like. Anywho, a special thank to A Seagull Among Songbirds, as she's my good friend that is posting this chapter because I can't login. Assume for the rest of the story and the others I might write that I can't login unless I say otherwise. I think that the next chapter will be the last one…. Kinda makes me sad. But that just means I can get on to other stories right?! *Trying to convince herself* But this one is longer than the last chapter, and forgive my spelling and grammar mistakes! Now, on to Reviewer's Reply!!

Lectori Salutem: Thank you! I was worried that Zoro would seem OOC during that talk, so I'm glad you thought it was sweet….. And yes, the crew have very dirty minds don't they? XD

Randomstrike: WAAAH!! THIS IS YOUR FIRST ZOLU FIC?!?!?! I'm so happy!! TT_TT Thanks! I'll try as hard as I can!

Su-chan: Thanks Su-chan! I'm glad you enjoyed the part with the rest of the crew. I thought it would be dreadfully boring.

Zoningout: Thank you so much!! I hope that this update is better for you then the last one! And yes, there really does need to be more ZoLu love, it's so small compared to other pairings…

Black rose pirate: Thanks! I hope the update it good enough! ….. Even if it's still kinda slow….

And if anyone can figure out what I based my disease on(and what symptoms are true)then kudos to you! Now, without further ado, I give you the newest chapter to Haunted Isle!!

--4--

A violent storm of animosity washed over the swordsman, and he fought to quell the crashing waves back down reverently, reminding himself that to lose oneself in a fit of anger was like openly declaring how foolish one was. And it wouldn't help Luffy if he lost his temper.

"Now that you're finally back I can set about preparing the ritual." That wintry voice spoke once more, still having the disconcerting ability to surround Zoro.

"What do you mean?" Luffy stood—head pounding from its collision with various forms of rock—with slight difficulty, "What ritual?" Other than a few scrapes and bruises, the most serious injury the captain appeared to have was a long cut along the left side of his face.

"Oh?" The voice sounded genuinely surprised, "I didn't tell you in our last encounter?" Zoro growled lowly in his throat at such an obvious reminder of what had transpired only hours before. It knew it had made no such mention when tormenting them. The statement was probably said just to make the teens remember how easily they had been controlled by It before. Damn thing.

Luffy glared at It, eyes not betraying anything but fierce determination and the will to survive. "What ritual?" He repeated.

"The one I perform inside the church every twenty years for the blood sacrifices." The sheer nonchalantance with which such a sentence was spoken shocked Zoro for a moment, before his brain registered what had been said.

"'Blood sacrifices'?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes," It nodded enthusiastically, "I'm going to kill you then devour your flesh." At this, It grinned, showing off the abnormally long, sharp canine teeth that occupied its mouth.

The swordsman felt bile creep up his throat at the mental image that statement had provided. He glanced at Luffy, and saw a disgusted face—tongue cutely (There's that damn word again!) pointing out just a little—that probably mirrored his own. Without the tongue sticking out of course. "Not gonna happen." Zoro said, grabbing hold of Wado.

"Do you intend to stop me?" The amusement in Its voice was painfully obvious, "If you want to die so quickly, please, by all means, go ahead and try."

A quick glimpse to his side confirmed the fact that Luffy was also getting pissed off by the arrogant bastard. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and conveyed a plan without words. A ferocious frontal attack was in order. Nodding, Zoro turned his gaze back to the figure sitting on the headstone. On a silent command, both teens rushed to It, Zoro quickly drawing Wado out of its sheath and Luffy pulling his arm back for a punch. Once in range, they unleashed their attacks simultaneously, and were promptly thrown back by an invisible shield, the power of the assault was muted by the force and didn't reach the figure at all.

"What the hell was that?!" Zoro demanded, feeling miffed that his attack had been stopped without It so much as lifting a finger. Two glaring blood-red eyes stared at him, and the wide smile gleamed dangerously in the moonlight. It was only then did the swordsman realize how thick the fog was, how similar it was to the inky blackness from his nightmare, and how he couldn't see anything but the hazy outline of the figure calmly sitting before him. That, out of anything, unnerved him the most. Why couldn't they see it? "Oy," His voice carried strangely for some reason, as if something terrible was about to happen. Zoro swallowed the sudden dryness in his throat, pushing the gut-wrenching feeling away for the moment, "Show yourself bastard."

"Hm? Very well." As though some sort of barrier had been broken a shaft of moonlight came raining down upon the figure, bathing it in a shinning bright white light.

If only the figure itself was half a fraction as glorious as the moon's beautiful rays.

The blood-red eyes shone with stoic emotion, and they sunk down into the leathery skin of the skull. The skin itself was cracked and dry, a dark brown color with what appeared to be small, coarse, black tuffs of fur gathering together as seemingly random patches of charcoal. Two large, definitely furry ears stuck on both sides of his face, they pointed like an elf's would at the end, twitching frequently. The nose was equally as pointy, if not more so, than the ears. Its body was covered in the remains of old tattered clothes and each hand and foot carried wicked claws designed to hook into prey and viciously rip strands of skin apart as they were pulled back. It gave a smile that sparkled in the moonlight, one that showed every tooth it had. The smile clashed horribly with the putrid stank of pure darkness and evil that seemed to secret from every pore in its body. A long, brown tail swished quietly behind it and the sensitive tip twitched slightly in a slight, unfelt breeze. There was a stoop to its posture, and as the breeze passed the two teens, it carried with it a smell of old, sour blood mixed with sweat and the retched scent of animal urine. The most eye-catching feature was the face of this monster.

It was horrendously deformed. On the right side, black fur matted together with dry blood covered the face, but not all of it. There were patches of skin that were falling off all together, some even hanging by the threads of the cheek's tissue. Holes the size of human eyes dotted the surface. Zoro could even see straight through the papery skin straight to the yellow jaw bone. There was a spot right under a crimson eye that glistened with wet, bright pink tendons and muscles clinging to the bone underneath. The swordsman could also see its veins scattering just under the skin, they appeared to be a purplish green color.

The left side was equally, if not more, sickening then the right. Part of the cheek bloated outward, and its skull was sunken in just above the eyebrow, forming a small crater. Pieces of blood-crusted scabs decorated the entire left side of the face. Each varied in puffiness, size, and color. One would be small and whitish yellow, with a sickly green liquid seeping out of it. Another scab would be big and raw, the pinkish tissue showered with splotches of purple and urine colored yellow, spotted with black—almost like a bruise. Then there were some that would just be oozing out a white puss with yellow-orange and dark green substances mixing together. One scab in particular was medium sized, pinkish purple and sporting maggot larvae crawling around inside the open wound, delighted at having a meal.

"Now, will you boys be nice and obedient and back down without a fight?" It grinned, making a few flakes of skin fly off and lazily drift to the ground on the right side and causing a scab to spurt the sickly green liquid on the left. Zoro grimaced, the sight making him sick to his stomach. Luffy gagged to his right, sharing the same feeling as his first mate.

Taking a deep breath, Zoro answered the creature, "Never."

"Pity. Then will you run away again?" It asked.

At this, Zoro's pride and anger flared violently. Was this monster calling him a coward?!

"Who're you calling a coward bastard?!" The swordsman yelled angrily.

"Why, you of course."

"Say what?!" Zoro shouted, "How the hell are we cowards?!"

"You ran away when I contacted you before." It stated simply.

Zoro growled, at that time, yes, they had run away, but with good reason! He needed to get Luffy out of that situation, and running had been the best option at the moment. But that was no reason to say they were cowards, it wasn't like they had backed down from a fight or anything.

"What are you?" Luffy's quiet voice blasted in the silence after the stinging accusation It had made.

The venomously cold smile that the monster suddenly wore chilled Zoro's anger from a roaring fire to a flickering light. "I don't see why that concerns you, but I think I may just let it slide this once and—as I've never told my food anything about me—maybe when you hear the story, it'll make you start screaming sooner when I tear you apart."

Food?!

Luffy felt numb when one of his favorite words could mean so much pain for him. And Zoro refused to respect that he may just become a means of nutrition for another. But It paid their apprehension at the prospect of becoming food no heed. Blood red eyes glazed over, as if recalling a memory, a memory so far back that it had almost become a vague black and white image of what really happened. Then, It started to speak. The voice so quiet that both teens had to lean forward to hear the soft words.

"Everything happened in the 14th century. Human beings were being stalked and killed by a plague so devastating that it killed nearly half of my country's population. The death toll was so high in my town that corpses littered the streets, each one bringing the mark of death to anyone who came close enough. Every body carried the same symptoms: skin falling off, tumor-like bulges under the armpits, black and purple sores and bruises decorated the carcass. Some had large spots, and others had small ones. And those that became infected almost certainly died. In later years, this disease became known as, 'The Death.'

Europe 1349

April 16th, 1349. The day everything I knew was lost.

A young man with long, brown hair tied back into a low pony tail walked the streets, soft brown eyes radiating with warmth. He was innocent, not yet experiencing the hardships that would scar and cripple him for the rest of his life, as so many other poor souls had felt. Naïve enough to believe that everything still had the fairy tale ending—everything would be alright in the end, no matter what obstacles one would be faced with. His lean, but muscular figure and tan skin is considered 'handsome' by most, but the young man never acknowledged that fact, preferring to ignore the flirtatious winks and scandalous stares the women gave him. But even with all the attention, he was loyal to himself—being humble and kind to everyone he came in contact with. He had the makings of being the sort of man that a parent would be proud to have, and one that would be successful in all his endeavors.

A frown graced the young man's face, an unsuitable expression for one of such high class as himself. Brown eyes danced with curiosity and morbid fascination as they took in the carnage that had settled in the town over the past two years. Dead, puffed up bodies waited on the streets to the sides of houses and homes, awaiting for the trolley to come and pick them up to be either incinerated or buried with others of the same fate. Black sores visibly stood out against the pale skin of the corpse. Briefly, he wondered if the government had come up with a cure to the disease yet—if not, he worried that the town's people would riot, as they demanded answers in their panic, and have been receiving none. That train of thought led him to his troubles at home, as—ever since his baby sister died because of the disease—his parents happened to be among some of the more radical citizens, the ones pushing the mayor to get answers from Parliament. Warily, he wondered what action they would take next to get the fake justice they felt Jacquelyn deserved. The young man shook his head slightly, there was no justice to be served for something that no one could control, or even predict happening. The Italian merchants had already died from the disease they brought with them from trading, so there was no one to pin the blame on. Well, he corrected himself, no one that really knew what was going on.

Sighing, he pushed the negative thoughts firmly to the back of his mind. It was too nice of a day to dwell on one's troubles. The clip-clop of a horse's hooves on the cobblestone streets reached his ears, and the young man stepped to the side in time to avoid being hit by a trolley as it raced down the street, bouncing dangerously, the corpses in the trailer jouncing to and fro, limbs flailing in an awkward, stiff manner. No doubt due to the hard muscles and ligaments holding the bodies together.

The young man didn't take another pause in the journey to his house, enjoying the brisk temperature and short walk that took him to the concrete steps and big wooden door with a dull brass knob that signified he was home. The old pine wood creaked as he opened the door and stepped onto the foyer. The corners of his mouth tilted downwards in a hint of a frown when his parents didn't greet him—as they were always at the door when he got home to make sure he didn't have the same disease that killed Jacquelyn. He shrugged the concern off; they were busy people that didn't have to fuss over their eldest child so vigorously.

I should've realized something was wrong the moment silence greeted me instead of the boisterous welcome from my parents.

As the young man entered the living room, he immediately saw the two men in black linen trousers and startling white tunics conversing with his parents. Dark glasses covered their eyes, making me wary of their presence. Alas, he also experienced the nagging curiosity that often got the young man in trouble. What are the men doing here? Did they have business with his parents? Or are they people from the government, relaying news about the progress of the cure? Many more questions buzzed through the young man's mind, but he kept his lips sealed, as was polite to do so unless you're spoken to.

"Ah, Rowan, my son, you're back! Your mother and I were awaiting your return with great apprehension. You see," Here, Father gestured to the two men that had not been introduced, "These fine men have been looking for volunteers to help search for the cure to the disease. I have taken the initiative to volunteer you for their… Services." The pause worried Rowan, and he noted the sweat dribbling down Father's brow. Mother seemed entirely cold, she hadn't uttered a noise since he arrived, her eyes trained unto the floor.

"May I ask what these services are Father?" Rowan asked, voice steady.

"I'm afraid not my son, as even I do not know the classifications with which they selected you to participate in their employment." Brown eyes shot towards the men then back quickly nervously. Mother had still not looked up.

"Father, what is going on?"

"I already told you Rowan. These men are going to take you to the capitol to find a cure for the disease."

"But why m-?"

"Rowan!" Father interrupted him, "Do as I say!" Rowan stopped the protest that was on the tip of his tongue and nodded, eyes never leaving his fathers. The two men stood up abruptly, they crossed the floor to the young man quickly, grabbing a hold of both of Rowan's arms. The young man struggled, overcome with a sense of fear. The well-dressed men were far stronger than him, and easily dragged Rowan to the door.

"Mother! Father! Help me!!" Rowan cried desperately, legs kicking at the men. His father stood up, Mother at his side. "Be grateful my son!" Excitement made the deep voice quiver, "You shall avenge the death of our daughter doing this!"

Shock paralyzed him for a moment, "W-What do you mean?"

Mother finally made eye contact, and Rowan gasped at what lay in the ocean blue depths. Hope, excitement, and anger swirled in the irises. "Rowan, you can avenge Jacquelyn!" She practically yelled, then Mother continued in a quieter voice, horrible madness and anger shone in her eyes—along with the hunger for revenge, "I don't care if I just sold my son to be a guinea pig, I want the people to pay for taking my daughter's life. Help find the cure son, and destroy those that go against you. Destroy them!"

Rowan couldn't believe his ears. Surely his parents didn't intend for the men carrying him to…To experiment on him?! But he saw the finality in both of their eyes, and stopped struggling, limbs going weak and numb. Rowan felt tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, and closed them in an effort to keep the sadness and hurt welling inside him hidden. Then one of the men hit Rowan in the back of the neck, and he lost his thoughts to darkness.

I was betrayed by the very people that I loved dearly. They are ones that caused me the most horrible pain in my heart. They were willing to let me die in a gamble to see if they could avenge their fallen daughter… Even though there was no one to be avenged upon.

Rowan opened his eyes briefly as he came out of unconsciousness, but closed them immediately afterwards to protect the vulnerable tissue from the blinding whiteness that was above him. When he felt ready, Rowan opened his eyes once more, squinting against the light. As his pupils became adjusted he noticed that he was surrounded by bleach white things, even tables and chairs were white! Slightly grinning at the audacity of the person living inside the building making everything stark white, Rowan went to rub his eye, which was starting to ache. But his arm was halted before it even moved, as he had thick black leather straps across his chest, lower abdomen, knees, and his feet. Rowan couldn't move off of the table he was strapped to even if he tried his hardest. It was then that everything that had happened decided to come rushing back; his parents had betrayed him. Watched gleefully in malicious revenge as the two men knocked him out, and dragged him out the door. More tears prickled at his eyes at the thought, but Rowan held them back. When he was let go, he would disown his parents, no matter how much they begged him to take them back.

A door outside of Rowan's vision opened, and he heard the footsteps of several people enter the room he was in. They appeared, hovering above him, dressed in long dark blue coats with white rubber gloves. There were masks over each face, and each set of eyes stared at him with obvious excitement. One with bushy gray eyebrows spoke, "Congratulations, you have been selected to be one of the lucky people to have the cure for the disease applied to them."

Rowan stared at his confusedly, "What do you mean? I don't have the-!" His voice broke off as one of the people near his head shoved a tube with a blackish purple liquid in his mouth. Rowan tried to spit it out, but the man just tipped the tube upwards until the vile liquid started to slide down his throat. Frantically, Rowan tried not to swallow, but it was impossible as a forefinger and thumb closed his nose, forcing him to drink the liquid unless he wanted to suffocate. The fluid burned as it went down, and Rowan chocked a few times before the tube was drained.

When the glass was removed from his mouth, Rowan opened his mouth to speak, but was once again cut off as another man appeared above his head, with a light silvery gray bucket in his hands.

Before he could utter a word, the bucket tipped and a stream of hot red blood poured into his open mouth. Rowan chocked, and coughed, sending the blood back up to the man, and gravity pulled the droplets back down to splatter his face. The man didn't seem affected by this, as he continued to tilt the bucket, pouring more blood down Rowan's throat. The young man was slightly aware of the feeling of some unknown liquid seeping into his clothes as the other six men grabbed their own buckets and spilled more blood on Rowan's body, some drawing strange symbols in the liquid of life.

When all blood was extinguished, Rowan panted with relief, he could breathe again. But the men lit black candles and circled him, beginning to chant in a language that was foreign to him. It was only Rowan that noticed a small, black rat enter the room.

Stupid quacks. The spell might've worked had they properly closed the door.

He tried to warn them, but his mouth wouldn't work, and his body was starting to feel like lead. The men were doing something to him, affecting his body in such a way that he couldn't do anything, in precaution that something goes wrong and he becomes a monster. So Rowan watched silently as the rat entered the pentagram that surrounded the table he was strapped to, and the way that it too, became covered in the same blood that was on him. A sudden fear and panic coursed through Rowan as he heard the chanting speed up until words were incoherent, and the room started to spin. Slightly at first, but then the rotations became more and more violent to match the chanting. Suddenly, the seven voices stopped, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then a bright light engulfed his vision and Rowan experienced a searing pain throughout his entire body. A pain so strong and so powerful, his body was in a wonderful agony. He felt hundreds of needles stabbing every pore on his body, felt thousands of knife slicing through his skin, felt his tissue and muscles burning with a flame as hot as the sun before the fire slowly moved towards the surface, burning his body from the inside out. Felt his intestines rip open, his lungs burst and puncture on his ribs. Felt his heart beat thunderously in his chest cavity, and then give a shuddering, pitiful last beat before stopping completely. Rowan felt himself die.

The two teens stared in shock as the monster recounted what happened to him. There was a pause where Rowan sighed, before a decidedly deadly gleam appeared in his eyes. Zoro tensed for a fight, sensing Luffy do the same beside him. But the creature wasn't quite down telling his tale.

"When I awoke in the room once more, I remember staring at the shiny surface of the floor, looking into my reflection marring the smooth linoleum. I remember my feeling of disgust at my appearance, and the horror at what I had become. Then I looked at the men and women that created me. I remember the happiness on each face, the joy at thinking that their cure had worked, that the disease would finally be stopped. I remember the way they laughed gleefully at my ugly face and shouted out expressions of jubilance, hugging each other excitedly. But I knew the truth. Their little séance hadn't worked. I was dead!! I felt my heart stop! And I remember the flash of fierce anger and ferocious hunger that pierced my soul.

"I remember those same happy smiles turning into panic and terror as I broke free from my bonds with a mighty roar, grabbing the nearest wizard or scientist and biting down on his neck with my new razor sharp teeth. I remember how good the feeling of tearing into flesh felt, how sweet the warm blood seemed to taste, and I remember the way his heart pulsated frantically, desperately trying to stay alive, so alike how mine was. I remember the need to feel more. More of that wonderful delicious flesh and delightful blood. I remember the screams and cries of terror being music to my pointy ears. The satisfaction of hearing their shouts of pain and anguish. I remember the sickening crunch of bone when I made the decision to leave nothing behind, except the splatters of blood on the walls, ceiling, and floor.

"I remember the desire. The hunger. The absolute need to kill—to tear everything apart! I remember the feeling of exhilaration when I finished hunting down the remaining people in the compound I was held at. I remember that I didn't feel that insatiable hunger as I picked my teeth with a shard of the leg bone of the president of the building. I was sated, for the moment. And so, I left. The town didn't know a thing about my rampage other than someone had come and broken into a secret government building and slaughtered most of the workers, and then disposed of their bodies."

Rowan's crimson eyes refocused to the present, "I went through time like that. Feeding on humans and hiding in the shadows. I couldn't function in a normal society, but that was fine with me. I could take my own revenge against human kind for turning me into what I am now.

"But I got cocky, and started showing more and more of myself to my victims. I loved the unadulterated terror in their eyes as the looked at my disgusting form. Alas, one day my captured victim escaped after I carelessly unfocused my attention, forgetting the power of fear in humans. She went to the village I was hiding by and told the leader what had happened. Thus resulting in the villagers uniting to take me down, anger and fear driving them to my humble cave." Rowan shrugged, "I was furious, of course, for letting my food get away. And I took out that rapacious fury out on the villagers. I slaughtered all of them, enjoying the rush I got as I did so." Rowan gestured to the surrounding area, "This used to be a church. I accidentally crushed it to during my tirade."

"Anyway, the next town over heard of me and sent some well-known exorcists to 'banish' me. But they couldn't do it, as their methods were out of date and far too weak to take me down. So they decided to seal me inside the church."

Luffy had grabbed Zoro's hand when Rowan was talking about his blood thirst, clutching it tightly. But now, the captain's curiosity was replacing his irrational fear. Rowan's story was really interesting—scary and terrifying—but interesting all the same. Luffy wanted to know what had happened to the rest of the towns, why was this island here?

"What happened to the rest of your country? This is only an island, where's the rest?" Luffy asked, the curiosity clear in his tone.

Rowan smiled, and he almost seemed friendly for a moment—"Oh, I just ate all the people around my area before the government sent much stronger exorcists than I could handle, and they weakened me, before setting this island off out in the wide open sea. Now then, if you don't mind, I'd like to get on with the ritual. My undead minions will ear your organs and I'll eat the rest. If you try to resist, I'll just have to kill you myself."—never mind being friendly. That was downright scary!! Briefly, the thought of eating something made Luffy think that he may be able to get Zoro to eat something much more satisfying to the captain—Yes, Ace had explained everything to him. Needless to say, Smoker wasn't too happy about being an example—but Luffy quickly quenched all thoughts like that, as now was not the time to be thinking such things! He had help in distracting himself as he felt something grab his ankle.

Na?

Luffy glanced down to see what it was. Oh, only a hand. The captain went to turn his attention back to the fight, but froze as what had a hold of him sunk in…… A hand….. A hand was holding onto his ankle. He glanced down again, and Oh my god, a head was following it! Luffy could only think of one thing as he stared at the rapidly approaching scalp: Oh shit.