Disclaimer: Still don't own Danny Phantom.

Yay! Thank you for reviews! I can't even begin to tell you how many times you people have made me smile and gave me inspiration. And, while it may have taken a long time, I tried as hard as I could to make this chapter enjoyable. I hope you like it!

Recap from last chapter: Danny and Sam found out a clue on Tucker's laptop that leads them to the location of the serial killer's next victim: Valerie Gray. From there, they conclude that the serial killer would most likely choose the Gala Mr. Gray (Valerie's father) was sponsoring in order to murder her and publicly humiliate her father.

But of course, where there's a Gala, there's a dress and a tuxedo. Unfortunately, what they weren't expecting to happen actually does happen. In the course of minutes, everything goes down hill. They lose contact. Their transmitters break up. The serial killer sets the stage for one hell of a finale.

Sam nearly gets shot by the serial killer's cronies, which she quickly finds out was a distraction. And Danny is forced to make a decision, one that could put him in potentially fatal danger.

He jumps in front of Valerie just in time...

Nobody moved.

The gun clattered to the floor with a deafening crash, and the blue eyed agent collapsed to his knees. He attempted to hold himself up, but his arms shook with a failing effort.

I'm s-sorry…Sam…

Sam panicked.


O.o.O.o.O


Living On the Edge

Chapter 11: Aftermath


O.o.O.o.O


"Danny!"

Oh my God…!

The female agent found herself practically flying down the steps of the catwalk, her mind dead-set on reaching her fallen comrade. She failed to realize that she had dropped her gun somewhere along the way, and she also failed to see that the figure within the shadows had disappeared.

But she didn't care.

All she cared about was Danny.

Please, she prayed as she hurriedly pushed through the crowds, please be okay, Danny…Her eyes never left the spot where she had seen him fall.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Her breath hitched, and her heartstrings tore at her soul. Guilt lashed out at her like an angry whip, and never before had she felt so much panic for just one person.

Please be alive…!

Huge swarms of people flew by in a blur before Sam finally came to the end. She shoved the last of the people in her way, and stood before the scene of the crime.

She felt her heart stop.

Oh my God…

There, near the steps to the ballroom's second level, was a fallen Danny. Her partner's weapon had landed a few inches from his right hand, and his other hand tightly clutched his stomach.

Sam ran from the edge of the crowd to her friend, tripping over her dress hem in the meantime. A wide tear ripped itself to just below her knee, but she didn't care. The dress was the least of her worries; it was replaceable.

Danny wasn't.

She fell to her knees next to Danny, and she instantly began checking for vital signs. Movement, circulation, anything! Anything to tell her that Danny was still alive. His blue eyes were tightly shut, and his black bangs were splayed over his face.

Please be okay…

But her eyebrows instantly furrowed. There was no sign of blood, which was (obviously) something to be expected after a shooting. The tiles surrounding them were sparkling clean. Danny wasn't lying in a pool of blood, nor was his jacket stained.

He groaned when she felt for a pulse in his neck, and his right hand twitched. His pulse was a little fast, but strong.

More hopeful than before, she quickly unbuttoned his top jacket so that she could find where he had been shot.

Yet to her surprise, she didn't find any blood stains on Danny's white shirt. Rather, she found a vest.

A bullet-proof vest.

Within the second, Sam found herself staring back into blurry, tired blue eyes.

"H-hey, Sam," Danny managed to say, a weak smile on his face. But then he grimaced as he felt his chest pound with sharp pain, a very prominent reminder of his mistake. The vest may have saved his life, but the impact of the bullet still hurt like Hell.

"Oh my God!" the female agent sank in relief, all of her adrenaline coursing out of her veins and leaving behind a pounding heart.

He's okay…he's okay…The deep dread in her heart dampened. Hope swelled in its place.

Her eyesight was blurry from withheld tears, but she could still clearly see that her partner was alive. "Danny, you idiot!" Without even thinking, she threw her arms around him in a hug. "You could have gotten yourself killed, you know that?"

"…Yeah, but I had to… protect Valerie…"

His raspy voice betrayed his body's agony, and his shallow breathing was ragged. Danny's lips drew back in a grimace. God…I hate bullets…

He was definitely in pain.

Realizing this, Sam gently wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him up into a sitting position. "Thanks," he panted out, gasping . He shakingly reached for his gun, which laid on the floor beside him. "Everyone's okay?" he asked as his fingers clanged against the cold metal of the gun.

"Yeah," Sam replied softly. "Whoever shot you disappeared afterwards…" She tried to stabilize her rapidly beating heart.

She still couldn't believe all that had happened, it happened so fast. The last few minutes of her life were a blur, and her heart was beating so fast that she couldn't tell one beat from another. "So, you're alright?"

"I will be," he grimaced in return, "just as soon as I get a lung transplant." To emphasize his statement, he weakly coughed, and Sam couldn't help but smile at his attempt to joke. "God, I feel like my internal organs deflated…"

"Then let's get you out of here…"

Unfortunately, it was at that moment that both agents realized they were the center of attention. Everyone was staring (in a rather panicked fashion) at them. A deafening silence reined in the most intense fear from the crowd.

Neither the agents nor the party guests could snap out of their shock.

"…Ehe…" was all Sam could manage to squeak.

And Danny, having just been shot within an inch of his life, could barely breathe, let alone react to his situation.

However, there was one person who had seemingly broken out of her shock, and that was Valerie. Her horror-stricken expression slowly melted into an aftershock.

Oh my God.

The would-be victim shivered suddenly, the situation catching up with her brain. No way…

The twenty year old glanced to her right and her teal eyes locked onto the fallen agent. Did he just…?

Wait…wasn't he just over there?

Was that shot…

…for me?

Everything had happened so fast, her mind blurred the past few seconds.

She knew she had overheard something she wasn't supposed to, but to go as far as kill her? Valerie couldn't suppress another cold shiver that clawed down her back.

An attempt was just made on her life.

Oh my God.

And somebody protected her.

Thus, trying to pull herself together, the woman shook the fear from her veins and steeled herself for anything else. The metallic handle of a pistol against her leg felt strangely comforting all of a sudden, and she was glad that she'd strapped it on underneath her dress.

You know, just in case.

Her blood red dress suddenly began to sparkle in the light, as if it too had been frozen in time for just one second.

I'm okay…

Thus, without a second thought, Valerie hurriedly ran over to the two agents, who had just become the height of attention. "Are you alright?" she questioned, leaning down onto her knees beside them. The woman with violet eyes glanced back up at her, and soon the man's startling blue eyes followed.

"I'll be okay," the male agent managed to say weakly. "I just…I need…" I need a vacation…

His partner cut him off, although not unkindly. "You need to get out of here," she retorted, trying to balance his weight against hers.

Valerie, however, noticed that the lady wasn't strong enough to do so, and she hesitantly wrapped her own arm around the man's shoulders to help the woman out.

And apparently, she appreciated it.

"Thanks," the woman said, her tone a little breathless. Her eyes flickered to meet Valerie's own teal ones. "Think you could help me move him?"

In return, Valerie nodded. "Yeah." Then, with a little teamwork, the two slowly lifted the male agent to a standing position, careful to help him balance. He leaned a little bit of his weight into them, however he was careful to maintain some semblance of pride.

"Ya know," he mumbled under his breath, "I'm not an invalid…" I could still walk…if I wanted to…The idea of depending on others wasn't something he liked, and his blue eyes darkened a bit in a reluctant annoyance.

The woman snorted. "You might as well be an invalid." You can sure act like one…she thought with tinge of affection.

Valerie's lips upturned in a little, the two's banter providing a little relief from the gravity of the situation. "I'm Valerie," she said, sticking out her free hand towards the violet-eyed woman.

In return, the woman gave a half-smile and shook her hand. "I know. I'm Sam." She retracted her hand and set her gaze straight ahead, neither accepting nor refusing Valerie's silent friendship. "Now," she directed rather professionally, "help me get this idiot some medical attention."


O.o.O.o.O


A half hour later found the three within Damon Gray's headquarters, a few of his personal medical staff surrounding Danny. Damon himself had accompanied the three out of the ballroom and personally saw to it that all witnesses to the incident had their short-term memory wiped.

Of course, he didn't really have a choice. He couldn't allow outsiders to know about the circumstances, and he had received orders from the government to maintain secrecy over the serial killer's existence.

He had left cooperating Russian agents on the scene responsible for wiping out the memories, and although he wasn't sure when they had arrived, or why they seemed to have already been there, he was glad for their silent appearance.

Just as long as Valerie's okay, it doesn't matter… Damon let out a big sigh.

He wanted to personally thank the man who had taken Valerie's shot.

The man, whoever he was, was currently sitting on top of a cleared desk in the main entryway of the St. Petersburg Security and Defense headquarters, wincing as one of the medical team helped him out of his jacket. The man's girlfriend (or at least that's what Damon guessed she was) stayed right by his side, silently awaiting the results of the medical exam.

Damon's hands shook a little with the imagery of what could have happened. Fearfully, he glanced at his daughter. His alive, perfectly well daughter. His not-dead daughter.

The bane of his life.

As a father, he had never been more scared than when the serial killer had promised Valerie's death. He couldn't take it; and yet he knew he couldn't stop the man. That serial killer was insane, twisted, and the most inhumane being he had ever met. Had it not been for that one brave man…

…His little girl would be dead.

He glanced once again at Valerie, just to be sure she was really there.

Valerie leaned up against a concrete wall, her eyes never leaving the medics. A sort of guilty apprehension in her eyes betrayed her inner thoughts, and Damon wondered if she felt the situation was her fault.

At any rate, the man who took the shot seemed to be okay. He was joking with the medics at that moment, trying to cheer up both himself and his partner. A goofy little smile was on his face, and his chiseled features revealed a wince only once in a while.

He seemed to be coming out of his shock. Of course, he had been wearing a bullet-proof vest, from what Damon had gathered.

Although why a normal citizen was wearing a vest like that was beyond him.

The president of the Security and Defense decided to confront the man. The sound of his leather shoes was softened by the rich, plush carpet of red as he approached the small group.

With a clearing of his throat, all eyes swung to meet his gaze. He, in return looked down to the man sitting on the desk. "I'm Damon Gray," he said humbly, sticking out his hand, "and I just wanted to thank you for saving my daughter's life."

The man met his gaze fully, and, with slow movements, shook Damon's hand back. His grip, despite the prior events, was strong, as if he was trying to put the past behind him. "It's no problem, Mr. Gray," he replied good-naturedly. Hiding a small wince, he gave a smile. "Just doing my job."

"Your job?" Damon questioned, rather interested by his answer. "What do you mean?"

His blue eyes were suddenly bright and animated, as lively as sparkling diamonds. "Oh, you know," he shrugged jokingly, "just saving damsels in distress." His partner tried to hide a noise that suspiciously sounded like a snort, but Damon wasn't too sure. In any case, he did see the girl poke him in the ribs.

"Ouch!" Danny yelped, his torso jerking away from Sam's silent disagreement of his former statements. "That hurts, you know," he whined, protectively covering his stomach from further attacks. He coughed pathetically (although he really was grimacing in pain), and Sam rolled her eyes. One of the medics stifled a little laugh, writing down medical garble on his clipboard.

"You deserved that one," she replied flatly.

Damon's lips quirked up in a little smile, somewhat amused by their banter. What an odd pair… "If I'm not being too bold, might I ask what your name is, son?"

The blue-eyed man, after a quick moment to regain his composure, replied with, "Danny. And this skinny pole here is my friend, Sam." Sam pressed her lips together and glared at him, but said nothing.

"Well then, Danny and Sam, I'm sorry that this all happened," Damon apologized whole-heartedly. "I didn't mean for you to get involved in this, and I certainly wasn't expecting you to take a bullet over it." His eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Although, now that I think of it, why did you? And why were you wearing a bullet-proof vest?"

The cogs in Damon's mind were turning at a vicious pace. It…it was almost as if Danny was expecting the bullet.

But that can't be right…

…Can it?

Danny and Sam glanced out of the corner of their eyes, looking at each other. Don't tell him… "Well, umm…" Danny struggled for words. "It's just, I-"

"Mr. Gray," one of the medics cut in, "I believe we've completed our exam." She motioned over the man with the clipboard, who in turn looked up.

"Ah yes, Mr. Gray; just the man I'm looking for." The head medic gave a casual smile, clipping his pencil off from his coat's pocket. "Looks like Valerie's savior here checks out."

"Danny's system seems to have come out of shock from the bullet's force, which I might say is a good sign." He lightly tapped his pencil against Danny's ribs, and the agent jerked, biting back a yelp of pain. "His ribs, however, seem to have gotten a pretty good beating. They're just bruised, from what I can tell. But we'd have to perform x-rays in order to be completely sure."

The man handed Danny back his jacket, who gratefully took it. It was cold in that building. He winced a bit as his torso protested the action, and tried to avoid overtaxing his abused body so early.

"I would recommend at least two days of rest," the doctor continued, "if not more. I would also advise staying away from high-impact activities, or anything that could possibly overexert yourself." He gave Danny a pointed look. "That includes no more playing hero."

Danny gave them a sheepish smile. Well, that's gonna be hard…

Good thing I'm used to ignoring orders.

The doctor then cleared his throat. "Well, if this examination was all that you wanted me to do, then my work here is done. Danny's free to go." Then, after a pause, the doctor said, "Oh, and Mr. Gray? I would like to speak with you in my office for a quick moment, if you don't mind…"

Damon, caught in between wanting to question Danny and helping his subordinate, hesitated. Couldn't it wait? he was tempted to ask, but thought better of it. He sighed, "I don't mind."

The doctor motioned him along out the door, probably to talk about the bill, and professionally directed the man's steps.

This left the two agents, along with Valerie.

And this, of course, made for a very …awkward silence.

The silence was a little tense too, as if Valerie suspected them of something or as if Sam was about ready to hurt Danny for his comments.

The male agent hoped it wasn't the latter.

In any case, during said silence, Valerie lifted up her chin, straightened her posture, and determinedly strode over to where they were. Her red dress sparkled dangerously in the dim light, as if it were a warning.

She matched the gazes of Sam and Danny with one of her own, and then, after a short pause, said, "Thank you for saving me…" One of her regal eyebrows raised. "But…why did you? How did you know I was in danger?"

You had to of known something…

In return, Danny bit his lip, casting Sam a rather anxious look. And Sam, being the normally calm and collected one, had surprisingly nothing to say. She shrugged her shoulders, but her violet eyes relayed the emotion that matched Danny's.

Danny turned back to Valerie with a reluctant expression. "Just, uh…a wild guess?" he answered hesitantly.

Sam slapped her forehead. Oh dear God…

"Then why were you wearing a bullet-proof vest?" Valerie pressed on, placing her hands on her hips. A rather silent moment passed. And then, a light bulb seemed to appear over her head of ebony curls, and it quite obviously opened up a whole new can of worms. "Are you an agent?"

Danny's heart skipped a beat with the accusation, but he said nothing. This isn't good…he thought apprehensively.

Valerie's expression told him that she had caught onto something. And she obviously knew it.

"Look," she finally told them point-blank, "I know something's going on. You had of known something, or else I would have been dead right now…It's too much of a coincidence to be just that."

Then, with a quick scan of the room, the caramel-skinned woman reached for the strap that held her gun against her calf. There, she pulled out a small badge, and showed it to Sam and Danny.

Oh, and it wasn't just any badge. Rather, it was something much, much more.

It was a Foreign Intelligence Service badge; the Russian equivalent of the CIA.

Valerie was a Russian Agent.

"I know you're both agents." the woman finally decided. "But who do you work for? Why are you here? How did you know I was in danger?"

Valerie tilted her head with a raised eyebrow, soaking in Sam and Danny's rather hesitant expressions. Their eyes seemed to communicate a sudden distrust for the Russian agent, and Valerie knew that if she didn't assure them of her intentions, they would never talk.

The woman blew a curly strand out of her eyes. "I'm here alone, and I promise on my badge that I'll keep this whole thing as confidential as possible."

That seemed to win them over.

"We'll cooperate," Sam replied hesitantly for the team. "But," she added, "only if you relay the knowledge you've found about the serial killer."

"Sounds fair enough," Valerie guardedly answered. "Now, whose agents are you? And how did you find out about this?"

A few seconds ticked by in one last moment of indecision. What should we say? Is she really who she says she is?

Will she use the information against us?

Still, the two agents decided in favor of Valerie. She was a Russian Agent, and the US was currently allied with the Foreign Intelligence Service.

Not to mention she probably had valuable information.

"We're from the United States," Danny finally admitted. "The CIA, actually."

Valerie's eyes seemed to brighten in understanding. "Oh, so you two are the agents that we were warned about!" She subconsciously tucked her badge back into her gun's calf-strap. "No one told us when to expect you here; after your last agent was murdered, we weren't sure exactly how long it would take for the agency to recoup."

Danny, unsure as to whether Valerie's comment should be taken as insult or compliment, just smiled weakly. "It was a hard hit for us to take, but we managed," he replied rather neutrally.

Sam took it as an insult, and her pretty facial features twisted into a scowl. Or perhaps, maybe it was not Valerie that had suddenly put her into a bad mood…

Possibly, it was just the topic of the conversation.

At any rate, though, the sense of distrust that swarmed around Valerie had seemed to disappear. "Well, as you know, we've been trying to track this serial killer down for over a year," the Russian agent said with a sigh. "It's the only reason why we cooperated with the CIA."

Danny bit his lip. "Are there any leads as to why three murders have taken place in Russia? I mean, what makes this place any more special for this killer?"

"We're not entirely sure," Valerie returned, somewhat reluctantly. It was as if she couldn't bear to admit her lack of answers. "My operatives and I have been constantly monitoring secretive gang activities and the like, but nothing alarming has showed up. This serial killer doesn't even seem to have contact with any local weapon dealers." She paused. "Or, at least any local weapon dealers that we know of…"

"So how did you overhear that phone call?" Sam asked curiously. Despite the guarded gaze that over toned her expression, her instincts were screaming that Valerie had stumbled onto a loop hole in the serial killer's plans. The result was a somewhat neutral, platonic countenance with a raging river beneath.

He would never be so sloppy…Sam wondered with a calculating mind. He's got more than enough agents infiltrating Russia.

So what did Valerie do to catch him off guard?

But then it hit her. Or was he just expecting it the whole time? Is this just another flag for me to follow?

Suddenly, a very sick feeling welled inside Sam's mind.

With Sam's question though, Valerie had suddenly gained a guilty expression. Sort of like a kid with their hand caught in a cookie jar. "I was tracking my dad's phone without permission," she admitted. " I know I shouldn't have done that in the first place… But Daddy didn't, and still doesn't know that I'm involved in the SVR. And, I-"

"-Wait a minute," Danny cut in, a confused expression gracing his features. "I thought your badge said the Foreign Intelligence Service?"

The Russian agent gave him a rather pointed look, as if unsure whether to classify Danny as an idiot, or as just a confused individual. "That is the Foreign Intelligence Service. It's the abbreviation of it," she told him as if he were one log short of a roaring fire.

"But the letters don't correspond!" Danny argued, puzzled. "SVR? FIS?"

"It's the abbreviation in Russian," Sam answered for Valerie. "In Russian, Foreign Intelligence Service is Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki. So therefore, it's acronym is SVR."

Valerie gave Sam an appreciative glance. "Thank you for spelling that out." I guess some Americans aren't stupid…

"No problem," the woman shrugged. "I'm used to doing that with Danny around…"

"Hey!" Danny shot back, pouting a bit that his intelligence was, once again, insulted. "You don't always have to spell things out! Why, I-"

But then he stopped himself. "You know Russian?" he asked suddenly. "Why didn't you tell me?" His eyebrows furrowed. "Why didn't I know this already?"

Sam shrugged once more. "I took Russian in high school. And I never told you because you never asked me." In a classic men-are-clueless mode, the agent crossed her arms.

She hid a sad frown behind her stoic mask.

There's a lot you don't know about me, Danny…

"Anyway," Valerie moved on, trying to get the topic back on track, "I was tracking my dad's phone. I did it without the permission of my operatives because I didn't want to involve my dad. I knew he had been contacted before, but with his job on the line…" she trailed off, "…I didn't want to risk him losing his position as President of St. Petersburg Defense."

The Russian agent furrowed her eyebrows, as if trying to remember every detail. "When I found out that Dad was being blackmailed, I knew I had to do something. I had to find some evidence that both proved his innocence, but gave the SVR a lead." She shrugged. "So I recorded a conversation between them…"

Her shrug sagged a bit, as did her posture. "I just didn't know that the serial killer had all the bases covered. He knew more about me than I did him." She swept a hand in the direction of Danny. "I never meant for things to get this out of hand, just from a silly phone call."

Valerie gave them both an almost-regretful glance. "I'm sorry…"

At least she attempted to sound sincere.

At that though, silent pause filled the air, deafening in its wake. Danny, slowly but surely, slid himself off of the office desk, testing his returning strength. The moment he set his weight on his feet, a sick, sharp pain twisted in his ribs, and a small grimace lit his face. His fingers fisted around the hem of his coat in an attempt to rein in the pain.

God, this sucks…!

Still, he showed no sign of his condition rather than that small, allotted grimace, and he straightened his posture just to prove a point. "I'm fine," he told Valerie. Then, with a small smile, he added, "No harm done, right?" The Russian agent just returned a small smile too, but her expression told him that she didn't believe him.

"Was the SVR aware of this possible attack?" Sam asked her. "I mean, you had to of known that your life was danger."

Valerie sighed, subconsciously fiddling with the ruby ring on her index finger. "Yes, well…I just, I mean…" she stuttered. But then, her expression hardened, and she said straight out, "Well, yes and no. Yes, three of my operative knew, but no one else did." She slid the ring off of her finger, twirling it in her palm. "If I had told my superiors, I would have been immediately taken from the mission, and locked into a fake identity program." And I refuse to give this job up, she added silently.

"So, were the people that knew at the Gala with you?" Danny questioned. Then, with a slight whine, he added, "And if they were, then why did I have to take the shot?"

Valerie bit her lip to hide a smile. But she quickly sobered up as reality weighed down on her. "Actually, they were-"

And then, it happened.

It was something that, even if known ahead of time, was completely invincible to being foiled.

The lights shut off. The building's security alarm sounded. Valerie's intruder alert spy-watch rocketed into a hap hazardous beeping.

They were under attack.

The serial killer had arrived.

And they were vulnerable.

Instantly, the three agents jumped to foremost attention, eyes darting to find a source.

Valerie instantly slid her gun from her holster, training her aim in every direction. She moved the point from one door to another, as if expecting something to bust through them. Sam followed suit with her own gun; instincts warning her once more.

"What's going on?" the violet-eyed agent demanded harshly. Her finger was on the trigger of the gun. "Who's attacking?"

"The serial killer, that's who," Valerie answered dryly. But her voice was tense and strained. Her gaze, calculating and hard, held some sense of self-doubt that laid shadowed behind her eyes.

"But he just attacked!" Danny voiced all of their thoughts. His baby blue eyes flashed in angry confusion as he pulled out his own .44 colt and set the trigger. "Why would he try to attack us again?" The weight of the gun felt heavy in his hands, and his fingers felt sluggish in their positions. Distantly, Danny wondered if was even physically able to handle another attack.

Instinct told him that he couldn't. Or, at least not on his own power.

Valerie's voice cut into his thoughts. "I don't know! I don't know how he could even afford to attack twice in one night!" She shook her head as the blaring alarms seared her eardrums. "But I know-I know-that it's the killer."

An apprehensive feeling warped its way into her mind. That's his alarm…

Dad, where are you?

The security had engineered countless different signals and sounds into the system, all of which held their own distinctive pattern. A certain alarm was assigned to a certain criminal, and when an emergency popped up, the agents in the building knew exactly who was attacking.

Just by sound.

And the deafening resonation that was currently blasting struck a sick fear into Valerie's heart.

This isn't going to end well…

In the meantime, Sam stood her ground behind Valerie and Danny, her gun still ready to shoot. Her eyes were narrowed, and her jaw was set with a grimness that, if anyone saw, couldn't have guessed the actual reason why.

Come on…

…When are you going to strike, you snake

She knew her boss had strategized a three-prong attack, but the details had been left out. He obviously hadn't trusted Sam enough to maintain the course, and Sam obviously hadn't trusted him enough to even want the details.

But she knew it wasn't gonna be good. And as far as she knew, her own life was just as good of game as Danny's. She was expendable, and she knew it.

It was every agent for themselves where she came from.

By that time, Valerie, Danny, and Sam had backed away to a wall; a solid barrier to their backs. "Where's Damon and the medics?" Danny asked suddenly. A rough edge had appeared in his tone, as if something was bothering him. "Shouldn't they have been able to hear this god-damn alarm?" His eyes darted over every inch of the wide office, feeling completely vulnerable.

His breath hitched with the waves of pain that tore down his torso.

"They should have." Valerie's voice suddenly grew panicked. "Unless, they were…" she trailed off with a gulp.

She didn't have to finish her sentence to get her point across.

The agents merely stood their ground, silently awaiting whatever was to happen.

And then, for unknown reasons, the alarm suddenly shut off. A dark, tense silence wavered in the air as the emergency generators switched on. The fluorescent lights above them flickered to life, their light more alienated and harsh.

It blinded them for a quick second. And, because of the sudden onslaught of pain, Danny almost dropped his gun.

Then, for even stranger reasons, the emergency generators shut off. The lights flickered once, twice, and then died, leaving the three in complete darkness.

"What's going on?" Sam whispered to Valerie. "Shouldn't the generators have stayed on?" Her eyes, accustomed to the light, were dilating. As time passed, she could just barely make out the rough outlines of Danny and Valerie.

"Not if someone's tampering with the mainframe of this place," Valerie whispered back. "I think the serial killer's got full reign here..."

"Well that's lovely," Danny hissed sarcastically. Hiding a grimace, he asked rhetorically, "Anything else the man's got control of?"

Sam suddenly felt tempted to answer his rhetorical question, but didn't actually have the heart to tell him.

Disregarding that though, she didn't have time, even if she wanted to tell him. For, at that moment, the tense silence rose to a staggering degree.

It was the calm before the storm.

He was going to strike.


Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? I guess I almost forgot about this story…

Well, that and time flies way too fast for me.

But anyways, I pulled one of those "last minute panic" things, and wrote about ten pages worth of words today. Talk about procrastination, right:) I had just gotten so caught up in another part of Fanfiction (namely, Howl's Moving Castle), that I had nearly forgotten that I was gonna update this today. I'm sorry! I'm so selfish! But…but Howl's Moving Castle is soo cool! I just saw the movie, and I went crazy! I think I burned through the entire collection of Fanfiction for that here…(sheepish smile.)

But I promise you all that I'm not gonna take another six months to update again. I'm trying to be more dedicated! Really, I am! (Gets hit by a potato.) Ouchies…

Now…for my interrogation of insanity! Muahaha!

1.) Did this chapter have a generally good flow of words, or should I work more on my sentence structures?

2.) Are the characters interesting and, for the most part, still adding a fair share to the building of the plot?

3.) Are there any scenes or certain places in the chapter that seem out of place or slightly confusing?

4.) Is the transition between points of view seem choppy or awkward?

5.) Are the characters' thoughts realistic, or too generic? Is there any way that I could improve on this?

6.) Despite the time-lapse between updates, has this story been able to keep your attention and maintain a certain level of reader interest?

But seriously, I can't thank you guys enough for answering these questions. I use them to gauge my progress inbetween chapters, and I also use them to give me an overall idea of how my writing sounds to others. Since every chapter is different, it also tells me my strengths and weaknesses with action, suspense, and use of other creative devices. I seriously want to become an author one day, and I feel like everything you guys have done for me has really allowed me to grow in my writing. So thank you once more!

Lightning Streak


To be continued...