Author's Note: This is a very short chapter, but now that I'm in school, I think updates can come at a faster pace. ...I know, that sounds really backwards, but most of my writing happens before, after and sometimes even during class. This chapter is written in two separate points of view. Both short and sort of in a dream-like sequence, but both are taking place at the same time. Hope you enjoy this addition and thank you all for your patience! Plenty more just around the corner.

- Phantom's angel

The song.

She lay afraid and unprotected, damaged by evil itself.

The song is not evil, but beautiful, like an angel.

I stand before it, imagining how it would feel to hold the voice. But I cannot carry her unless she permits me; accepts me.

The song lays still, stunned by the ghoul who tried to possess her. But I know this song and I could not let her be taken away.

The song beckoned me from the trees, urging me to the line of the village and begging me to listen. It took me to the eastern edge of the world of the living and kept me keen each time she offered her melody, drawing me as far as my boundaries allowed me.

The song lays now, cold on the ground, yet I know nothing of warmth. I cannot protect it, for I wander and I crave.

Yet still she lays there cold and she shivers.

So I carry the voice, within my arms, and keep it away from all the ghouls who wish to challenge me. It unknowingly accepts me, and I cherish it. I raise the voice up and protect it, for I believe in it. She is pure, and though it is light, I do not fear it.

Against all warning, I know the song is an angel. And I will raise it back up to the sky.

Christine's Point of View:

Death was a welcomed gentleman.

He sent away the shadows and the fear and received me with great comfort. Despite His own darkness enveloping me, I felt safe and sound under His gaze.

The figure of Death stood over my body – I could feel it – and seemed to contemplate what to do with me now that the ghoul was sent away. I knew it was a ghoul who had hold of my heart. I felt my soul being altered by his grip and now that I was dead, I felt cold as ice.

I awaited Death's embrace now. I accepted my fate.

My eyes were closed and my breath was hollow. I wished to stand but knew Death would be my guide now. Rather than fight it, I allowed Him to take me as He pleased, for His ways could not possibly differ here in Perros. Death was the same wherever He greeted you. May He be merciful to me…

I could feel myself being lifted into His arms, which were more like wisps of clouds. My courage faltered momentarily and I hesitated in my conclusion to so readily take to Death's command. I feared I would be dropped and left behind by Death for my disservice to my decision, yet as my heart grew confident once more, so did Death's grip.

He cradled me now, cherishing my weight upon His shoulder. Though I could still not open my eyes, I felt a long heavy cloak which I may have been wrapped in, and while His embrace was ice cold, I felt great warmth. Tenderness, almost.

I journey to rest lasted so long. I came in and out of consciousness on multiple occasions, yet never could fully open my eyes. I was still weak and waited for liberation. I waited and longed to have my body set to rest and I knew I must have truly succumbed the moment my body rested against the back of a wooden chair…