Shameless is so proud of herself. Writing chapters inbetween classes. Even if they are short. This one didn't even cap 1,000 words. Oh well. Maybe updating while in school won't be as hard as I thought. Then again, it was the first day.

This one is character non-specific. But, the identity of the character will be revealed in the next chapter. I was going to start on my intended sixth chapter, but this one popped into my head instead.

To NewTimeFan: I know I told you the next chapter would have Draco in it. Sorry. He'll be in the next one. This chapter completely circumvented my authority and got itself written.

The newly repositioned chapter seven is now being written, so I may even get two chapters up today. Yes!

*Press Play*

It was dark, so dark. And he was…running? Or was he standing still? He couldn't know for sure in the piercing blackness. There was no light. There was no sound. There was nothing.

Nothing at all, except feeling and sensation. He was uncomfortable. The penetrating dark squeezed him like a vice. He whipped his head to and fro. Or was his head held firmly in place by something?

He tried to find an end to the darkness, an end to this inherent absence of light. He was frightened. He had never liked the darkness. Far too often, he had been caught unaware as some devilish creature of the night ensnared him with vicious claws.

That was when he felt it. A dull throb emanating from deep in his bones. It roared into a snarling dark fire. It gave off not light, and still it consumed him. If he was moving, he was unaware. Had he been inert, it remained unknown to him.

All he did was feel. All he wanted was to get away from it.

Pain. Pain rippled like water through his form, and with each ring in the pond, the prickling and stabbing intensified. He couldn't differentiate between the pain in his leg from that in his arms; the agony was all consuming.

And suddenly, in his world so dark, he felt something more.

Hands, invisible hands, reached out of the darkness and groped at his body. Claws grasped at the flesh and ripped furrows into his skin.

Grabbing.

Ripping.

Tearing.

Squeezing.

He couldn't seem to gain function of his body for the hands were ever-present. He tried to escape; he really did, but the hands knew his every movement, his every thought. They followed him. They wrapped around his neck.

His darkness-blinded eyes bulged. The pressure increased with every second. His lungs were collapsing. Every cubic centimeter of oxygen was evaporating.

When had he last breathed? Had he ever in this darkness-enshrouded world? How could the cut off his air supply if he hadn't been breathing?

But the hands increased their vice-like grip, effectively cutting off any thoughts he had ha. His eyes began to slide shut.

Darkness overlapped darkness.

Any oxygen he may, or may not, have breathed in was gone.

Oblivion awaited.

Wait!

What was that? Was something piercing the dark? A sound…speaking?

The groping hands were retreating, but he still couldn't seem to breathe. His own hands clawed at his throat. He could feel indents on his neck as if it was made of iron and of flesh.

He still couldn't breathe. The fingers' marks wouldn't retreat.

Was the darkness…less dark?

Not quite light, but less impenetrable.

He stumbled. Or did he fall? Had he ever been moving? Was he breathing again?

He reached up to his neck. The indents still marred his collapsed throat.

Would he ever breathe again?

Then, there came that sound!

What was that? Who was it? Was it calling to him?

Should he follow?

Suddenly, a blinding flash of light engulfed him.

"Welcome back."

Not very long at all. If the constant new paragraphs bothered you, sorry. I was trying make it seem abrupt like a constantly changing train of thought.

As to the content of the chapter, what can I say? I was in a rather peculiar mood. It was 8:00 am when I began writing it. I was fresh out of my bed and groggily trodding up a flight of stairs in my school. Meh.

Let me know what you thought.