Third and last update of the month. Author's note at the bottom as always.

Full Summary: Demyx is your average rookie detective, hoping to make a difference, but what happens when a new murderer emerges and Twilight Town's only hope lies within the hands of a convicted killer? A convicted killer whose heart seems as black as the pit he's dug himself into. Can Demyx find the murderer before it's too late, or will that convict steal his heart?

Rating: M for future things to come, language, and violence.

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies. I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this work, nor do I own the games and movies from which they came. I do, however, own the plot and would perfer not getting robbed.

Now, I would like to thank those of you who reviewed, favorited, and alerted! I love you~!

Also, this chapter, like the last, has not been beta-ed. If you happen to find anything extremely grammatically wrong, please let me know!

Enjoy! ^^

Selphie sighed, scrunching her eyebrows together and twisting the phone cord around her index finger in concern. "So she still hasn't said anything? Like nothing at all? She is okay, though, right?"

"Yeah. She's okay. Not talking, but okay." Kairi's voice whispered through the phone, probably trying to stay quiet in case her sister happened to be listening. "Mom and dad are so worried, though. It's not like her to just…shut down like this, you know? She's always been quiet but she's never been like this."

"Maybe you should just give it some time?" The light brunette suggested. "It has only been a few days. I'm sure she'll be fine once this has all settled down. Namine might not look it, but she's tough deep down. She's going to be fine. You shouldn't worry so much." She smiled a sweet smile even though no one could see, leaning against her kitchen counter and clicking her heels against the marble tile.

"Yeah. I guess you're right. It's just…she's my little sister. I'm supposed to worry, aren't I?" Selphie nodded at Kairi's worried tone, frowning in just the slightest way. "Hey, give me just a sec, 'kay?" Voices mumbled on the other side of the line—voices she recognized to belong to Kairi's parents. She sighed again, preparing herself for the inevitable. "Hey Selphie, I've got to go; I'll see you at school tomorrow. Bye."

"Buh-bye." Selphie mumbled as she heard a click from her phone. Stretching a bit after pushing her bangs away from her eyes, she replaced the phone on the receiver and yawned. She was used to this type of thing. Kairi was a great friend. Really she was. She was one of those people that was always there for her friends and would do just about anything in order to make them happy. But that didn't mean that she was without faults. She was oblivious at times, didn't always listen to all sides of a story before drawing a conclusion, and above all else she worried about her sister in a way that bordered on unhealthy.

Selphie could understand her concern. Namine was younger and had always been a bit different from the rest of them. She was fragile on the outside and headstrong on the inside. She and Kairi were more or less exact opposites. Where Kairi was loud and outspoken, Namine was quiet and compliant. She never seemed to care about her looks like Kairi did, even though she was possibly the prettier of the two siblings. She willingly played in the dirt and explored junk yards. She didn't care about boys or sun tanning or any of those normal teenage girl things like the rest of them did. She was just different.

And that was fine. Namine could be as different as she wanted to be. But just because she could didn't necessarily mean that she should. Of course, Selphie would never tell Kairi that; she'd most likely never talk to her again.

After the initial screaming, that is.

It didn't really matter what she thought about the girl anyway. They were merely acquaintances by definition and it wasn't like Selphie really had a problem with her. She just thought she was weird. There was nothing wrong with that. Really there wasn't.

Humming a bit and deciding not to worry about the Heart siblings any longer, Selphie's blue eyes settled on the clock above the stove, one light brown eyebrow rising. It was nearly five already and she hadn't seen Simba anywhere. Normally, he was already waiting at his bowl or rubbing his head against her ankles by now.

She dropped to her knees curiously, letting her skirt pool and ride up around her knees as she crawled across the kitchen's tiles, searching under every surface for her wayward cat. "Here kitty-kitty." She sang and repeated like a mantra, her voice high and worried. He had never run off before. He was just your typical fat and lazy housecat. He never disappeared. Sure, he went outside and played in her mother's potted plants—which annoyed her mother to no end—but he always came back in when she returned from school. Always.

So where was he?

"Simba? Here kitty-kitty! Mommy's home! And she has lots and lots of treats for you! Don't you want a treat, Simba?" She called, jumping to her feet and searching the rest of the house. She went upstairs to her bedroom and then downstairs into the basement. She checked the living room and all the hallways. She even checked the kitchen cabinets just in case her oblivious father happened to shut him up in one again—they'd lost him once or twice when he was a kitten that way.

But he wasn't there.

And she was worried.

"Mom, have you seen Simba? I can't find him anywhere." The girl's mother blinked at her, her lips twitching thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, sweetie; I haven't seen him since he went out this morning. Have you checked outside yet?" At Selphie's slight little headshake, the women waved her off, returning to her mystery novel.

With blue eyes wide, she slid outside. She walked along the cobblestone path and searched under the bushes. And then she saw blood. It was just a tiny rivulet of it, the darkened red contrasting with the lush green grass. But it worried her.

So she dropped to her knees and crawled through the bushes like she used to as a child. She scratched her face on a low branch, trying to slide under it too quickly. And just as she was thinking of turning around, she saw him. Her lovable pet cat, lying on his side, covered in blood.

He was just right there—right in front of her. His eyes were open and dulled. Dead. Gone. Never coming back. Her fingertips trembled as they ghosted over his stiff, matted fur, her bottom lip clutched tightly in between her teeth. And as her carefully painted nails slid over his back, she felt the ridges and she outlined the words.

Her cat—her precious little kitten—had words etched across his back.

And all she could do was pet his deadened head and cry.

K3YBLAD3

Leon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to fight off the migraine that was slowly spreading across his temples. He was not happy. The closest thing they had to a suspect was a drunkard that used to work at the hospital by the name of Jack Sparrow, and he had an airtight alibi for no less than six of the murders. They had searched through the hospital's employee records and come up with eight hopefuls. On some level, they all looked good for them, except they all had alibis for at least one of the murders. Jack Sparrow was literally their last hope. And they had nothing with him. They were back to square one.

They had no suspects and too many bodies.

"Yo, Leon?" The brunette narrowed his eyes, turning his gaze from the useless statements in his hands to one of the local cops. He recognized him immediately to be the one known as Xigbar due to his gaunt domineer and pulled-back hair. The cop smiled crookedly at the team leader, holding the doorknob loosely in one of his palms. "There's a 'lil girl out here that needs to talk to you about her dead cat."

One brown eyebrow rose incredulously before the eye underneath returned to the papers scattered about the desk. "Tell her to go home. We're looking for a serial killer, not someone who kills house pets." Leon scoffed.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Xigbar grunted, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that demanded attention. "She says someone cut him up with somethin' sharp, like maybe a knife or somethin'. He's got words just like those bodies of yours." In one of the room's corners, Axel shifted, his interest peaked.

"Fine, then. Tell her I'll be with her in a minute." Leon growled, clenching his jaw.

"There's no need; I'll go talk with her." The redhead cut in, stretching his legs languidly as he stood. Axel watched his boss's brows furrow, but Leon nodded anyway, returning to his work like Xigbar had never come in at all. Thin lips smiled crookedly as the redhead shook his head, following the cop out into the hall. Leon was—and would probably always be—a little closed-minded when it came to his work. He was more of a straightforward thinker and expected everything to follow the books. What he didn't realize—or didn't care to realize—was that people aren't in the textbooks. They're unpredictable. Different.

And sometimes you have to think a little out of the box to get the desired result.

"Here you go. She's in there. She's a bit shaken up, but coherent enough." Xigbar rumbled, opening the door to one of the waiting areas and pushing Axel inside. The detective nodded at him as the door shut, turning his cat-like green eyes towards the lithe child sitting in a plush blue chair towards the center of the room.

She was small, a jutted bone structure outlining her frame beneath her school uniform and high heeled shoes. She watched him move towards her with tearstained cheeks, her blue eyes red and puffy. And Axel just had to smile that crooked smile at her, an edge of tenderness curling his lips. Because in the end, she was a victim just like all the others. Maybe she wasn't a victim in the literal sense. She wasn't stretched out across a slab in the morgue, Larxene wasn't cutting her open, and she wasn't the star of their crime scene photos, but she was still a victim. She had lost someone just like all those families. Maybe it wasn't so bad because it was only a cat, but she must have loved it all the same.

And a victim was still a victim, no matter what kind of victim the owner of a dead cat happened to be.

The redhead took a seat across from her, sinking into his chair as she just continued to watch. "Okay, girlie, I'm Axel, one of the detectives trying to sniff out this serial killer we've got running around, and I hear that someone killed your cat?" She nodded to him, knotting her fingers together in her lap. Axel was vaguely reminded of Zexion, but shook it off—this was no time to become distracted. "Would you mind telling me about that?"

The girl let out a little laugh, one laced with sadness and nerves. "Aren't you supposed to ask me my name first? Like they do in those shows on TV all the time?" She asked, her voice borderline hysteria. Maybe she wasn't as okay as he had originally thought.

"Well it's not all like those TV shows, kid." Axel sighed, leaning forward with that crooked smile. And the girl nodded, lifting her light brown eyebrows for just the slightest moment and exhaling through her nose. It was like she was barely managing to hold herself together. "But a name might be nice."

"Selphie Forester." She mumbled, and Axel didn't miss the mouthed 'thank you' that came right after.

His eyes softened just a bit as he watched her. "All right. It's nice to meet you then Ms. Forester." He extended his hand out towards her and she hesitantly shook it, allowing him to encircle her slender fingers with his heated palm. "Now about your cat—"

"Simba." She cut in, biting her lower lip with surprising force. "His name is—was Simba."

"Right." Axel leaned back, relaxing his shoulders and shooting her a supporting smile in an effort to calm her down. She wouldn't be of any use if she was too emotionally involved. He could understand her feelings. He had lost pets before as a child and it had felt like the end of the world. But right now, he didn't need feelings or emotions. He just needed the facts. "Could you tell me what happened to Simba, then?"

"You see," her brows furrowed, a light scowl setting across her lips, "I'm not entirely sure what actually happened; I just know what I saw."

"Okay. Just tell me whatever you can." Axel encouraged. And she did. She told him absolutely everything, from her telephone conversation to searching her house to finding him outside and petting his bloodied fur. The redhead listened carefully, his ears perked. By the time she had finished, he knew that they had another body on their hands, another victim to contend with. And while this victim wasn't the same as the others, it didn't change anything.

Their serial killer had struck again.

"Would you mind if we examined the body?" Axel asked quietly once she had finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, blue eyes wide. "I-I brought him with me." And with that, she pushed her hair behind her ears and reached under her chair to produce a cardboard shoebox, big enough to hold men's work boots. She held the box to her chest for just a moment and smiled at it sadly before carefully handing it over to the stunned redhead. "Everyone's getting hurt. Namine and the others…I thought that he might be able to help."

Axel stood, holding the box carefully with both hands. "I'm sure he will."

"Just make sure I get him back; I want to bury him." Selphie smiled that sad smile, grabbing on to her forearm and looking away.

"I'll make sure to get him back to you personally; that's a promise. I'll even get our leading lady down in the morgue to clean him up for you."

"Thank you." And even though those words were whispered, they held all the weight in the world as they rested on Axel's back as he walked away, the hallway his refuge. Without even looking into the box in his arms, he knew what he needed to do.

He needed to call Demyx, Leon be damned.

K3YBLAD3

"Hey." Zexion said nothing; he simply drew his knees that much closer to his lithe chest and stared endlessly at one of the hotel's blank walls. He knew he was acting like a child, but at this point he honestly didn't care what that tentative voice had to say.

The one above him let out a long, drawn out sigh, shaking his strangely styled hair and running his hands through it nervously. "Look, I know you're mad at me and you don't want to talk to me or anything like that—and I understand. Believe me, I understand. But, I mean, could you please come get in one of the beds? Or sit at the table? Something?" The criminal still said nothing. Demyx let out a whine, a sound laced with traces of guilt and apprehension. Hesitantly, he came to his knees, seating himself a mere foot away from the younger.

With oceanic eyes wide, he analyzed the other. He hadn't moved since the night before. He never came to bed or moved to one of the hotel's chairs. No. He hadn't left his space beneath the window. Granted, he had brought his legs closer towards himself and his arms were no longer held brokenly at his sides in a way that resembled a puppet. But that didn't really change anything. He still looked like he was broken, like Demyx had done something that had damaged him for good.

And he could stand the look in those glazed blue eyes, both momentarily laid bare.

He felt like someone he wasn't supposed to be. It was like he was changing into someone that he didn't even know—had no desire to know. In the beginning, he didn't necessarily like the criminal, but they were close enough to friends in his eyes. He felt like he could get closer to him than he already was. And that's all he wanted. He wanted to be close to the other in a literal sense instead of just the physical kind. And he was getting there. Slowly but surely, he had been getting there with the other. He knew just when to push and when to give. But now, something was wrong. He wasn't stopping anymore. He just kept snapping, pushing and pushing until there was nothing left, until he had crossed a line that was never meant to be crossed.

And he had crossed the line this time.

"Um, Zexion, I'm really…I don't even know." The blond leaned forward in just the slightest way; deeply set blue eyes blinked but otherwise didn't move. "Could you please just talk to me? You don't have to move or say anything you don't want to but…I just want to know if you're okay. Please?" The criminal still said nothing, causing Demyx to let out another—slightly hopeless—sigh. He really couldn't stand this. He couldn't stand seeing the other revert in such a way. It was like everything that had made him alive in the first place had simply gone away. He looked even worse than he had before. Every bit of light had gone away, leaving his skin pale and sickly. Leaving his bones jutted and scrapped. Leaving him defeated. His body swallowed up in Demyx's clothes.

"Will you look at me?" Demyx tried. When Zexion didn't respond, he reached out towards him, trying to grab at his sharp chin.

Blue eyes swiveled and narrowed. "Do not touch me." The blond smiled a sad smile, withdrawing his hand and placing it in his lap.

"So you can speak." Zexion remained silent, staring at the other with narrowed eyes. "Or not." Demyx let out another sigh, scooting closer and cocking his head to the side. "Are you mad at me? I mean, I understand why and I really should have done that and—"

"No." The criminal cut him off, his voice low and shallow. "I have no reason to be mad at you." And Zexion truly believed that he didn't. It would be completely irrational of him.

Blond brows furrowed, oceanic orbs widening in disbelief. "You have no reason to be mad at me?" He asked, his voice filled with shocked wonder. "What do you mean by that?"

Zexion let out a light sigh, readjusting himself so that his spine no longer dug into the wall. "I meant exactly what I said. I am not mad at you because I have no reason to be." As if to prove his statement, he nodded, loosening his hold on his boney legs.

"But that does make any sense!" Demyx shouted his tone louder than intended, causing the younger to shrink even farther into the wall, his eyes watching the other wearily. If last night told him anything at all, it was that Demyx was becoming unpredictable. He was losing patience. "I know I said that last night didn't happen, but…it did happen. I shouldn't have said those things. And I shouldn't have grabbed you like I did or yelled or…anything like that! How can you not be mad?"

For a moment, Zexion remained silent, his lips set in a thin line as he scrutinized the other. It looked as though he hadn't gotten any sleep, despite the fact that he had gone to bed, his hair skewed about and his eyes weary. And Zexion supposed that that was possibly his own fault. Demyx was a kind person by nature and it had probably worried him that he hadn't really responded to him the night before. Which was fine. It wasn't as if he had anything to say to the other. For once, Demyx had had a point and his logic wasn't wrong, no matter how much he himself disagreed with it.

"Because you weren't wrong." He finally stated, watching as the other's blue eyes widened.

Demyx hummed, bringing himself that much closer to the other. He didn't really understand what the other meant by that. The night before he was completely against the idea; there was no way that he had changed his mind that quickly, even if he had had an entire night to think about it. "So you mean you understand what I meant when I said that he used you, right?" The blond tried to clarify.

The other shook his head. "That is not what I meant. I meant that your logic wasn't wrong. It's perfectly plausible that I was roped into that entire scheme because I idealized him as a father. That, however, does not mean that I did because I didn't. I never once saw him as a father figure; he was just a friend. And he didn't use me. But I can understand you thinking that. It's perfectly logical." Inwardly, Demyx sighed, a lazy smile spreading across his lips as Zexion began to chew nervously on his thumb. He didn't really understand and he doubtfully ever would. He only realized that his argument was logical; he didn't really understand it.

But Demyx was okay with that.

This gave him another chance to gain the other's trust. And maybe over time he could get him understand it on his own. Until then, he would just have to be content with Zexion denying it. And he could do that. He could wait it out just watching the other.

"Okay. I can live with that." He moved himself closer so that their foreheads were almost touching, oceanic orbs observing the darker pair before him. One of Zexion's slate eyebrows rose as the other's head tilted to the side, his lips coming closer to his own. He could feel the other's breath against his cheeks, the air thickening between them. Without even thinking, Zexion's lips parted in just the slightest way, his back arching so that his chest was nearly touching the blond's. And then they were just staring, waiting for the other to make the first move.

When the phone rang and ruined everything.

Jumping, they pulled away from each other, Demyx shooting the criminal a lazy smile before standing to retrieve his phone from its charger in the corner of the room. The caller ID said Axel, so he dutifully sighed and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Hey, man. Been catching up on some sleep on your day off? You looked like you needed it when I dropped you and Zex off." Axel's voice came through the phone, sounding tired, wearied even.

Demyx gave Zexion a shy look as he poked his head over the side of the bed and rested his chin against his palm, his eyes curious. "Not exactly."

"Oh?"

"Please just don't ask." The blond sighed. "Did you need something?" He asked impatiently, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck as Zexion continued to watch him.

"Oh, yeah, right. About that—listen man, Leon might not be too happy about it, but I need you and Zexion back here as soon as you can get here. We've got two more bodies and one of 'em's a little weird. You think you could do that for me?"

Oceanic orbs widened—two already?—causing Zexion's head to cock to the side in confusion. "Yeah. We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Thanks. I'll see you in a few. Bye."

"By—" The dial tone started before he'd even had a chance to finish. Sighing, the blond closed his phone, unplugging it from the wall and stuffing it in one of his pants pockets. "Go get dressed." He ordered at the criminal.

The other stood, nodding. "What is it?" He asked.

Demyx's blue eyes faltered as the roamed over the younger's frame, a trace of affection hidden in the overwhelming sadness. "We're needed."

K3YBLAD3

His breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he leaned over his basement sink, bile rising in his throat as he scrubbed at his reddened hands.

It wouldn't come off.

No matter what he did, he couldn't make it go away. The dried blood just wouldn't wash off. Everything was ruined. Wrong. He had acted too rashly. He had meant to take the other one, but no, he had made a mistake.

That blasted cat was the first. It was supposed to be the girl but that damned thing had come outside. It was causing such a fuss, calling for its master. He just couldn't let it go on after that. It was going to get him caught. And no, no he couldn't allow that. So he'd killed it. He'd killed that fleabag and gotten rid of him for good. But he couldn't stop there. No. He couldn't stop. It deserved so much more from him. So he'd gutted that nasty thing, carving the words meant for the girl across his back.

He'd never been so impulsive!

He was always patient. He knew what he was doing. Oh, he always knew. And mistakes like that were just against his very nature. It threw him off.

Which brought him to the girl. That blasted girl. The wrong girl.

He wasn't going to kill her. No. She was the wrong one, but she was easy prey, all alone, running some errand for her parents. Yet he hadn't just killed her. He'd had the perfect opportunity, but no. He didn't. He simply brought her with him like the other one from before. But she had to die now, even if she was the wrong one. She'd seen much too much. She'd seen his face; she knew who he was. She had to die.

They all had to die.

With his breathing under control, he pulled away, letting his stained hands turn off the water. He stared at himself in the mirror above the sink, watching his terror-filled eyes. No. This pathetic creature was not him. He was not this weak of a person.

He smiled crookedly. He could make this work. He wouldn't be able to eliminate the girl, since that blasted feline had taken her place, but he could use the other one. She wasn't the one who knew, but she would do. He could kill her. Use her light as a sacrifice.

This would work. His plans could continue on as planned; this mistake could be forgotten.

Mentally patting himself of the back, he turned towards the girl he had tied to a chair in the middle of the room, her big blue eyes wide and terrified, tears running down her rosy cheeks and matting in her gag.

Yes. He could definitely make this work.

K3YBLAD3

The air in the room could be cut with a knife, the weight of it literally suffocating the occupant's airways. Leon was not happy that Axel had disregarded him and pulled Demyx and that criminal back on the case, but had decided not to discuss it with the other at the moment, preferring instead to simply glare at the redhead. Axel paid no heed to him. He honestly didn't care how angry the other got at him; he was here to protect the town. It was his job and—damnit all— he was going to do his job. Leon, Riku, and the rest of them be damned, it was going to happen.

He couldn't stand the way the others were acting. Sora and Larxene were nothing but mediators, but Riku and Leon were acting like children. Couldn't they see just how involved Demyx and Zexion were? Didn't they notice how they held themselves? How their eyes were just as broken down as everyone else's? Didn't they notice? It didn't even matter. He'd brought them back in because they needed everyone's help with this. And he wasn't about to let someone else die because Riku and Leon couldn't admit that they were wrong.

He was better than that.

"Since we're all here," Leon sent a pointed glare towards the criminal; he didn't seem to notice, "we should go over the last two victims: Sally Skellington, the town tailor, and Simba, a house pet. Both were inscribed with words like the others, one on the left wrist and the other across the back, respectively. Does anyone have a clue as to why these two were killed?"

Zexion cleared his throat, placing his hands on the table and knotting them together in a way that looked almost painful. Riku's eyes narrowed at him from his place beside Sora. "Sally's death makes sense." He mumbled seemingly to himself before falling silent, his bottom lip held firmly between his two layers of sharpened teeth like he was thinking.

If possible, Riku's glare intensified, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned forward in his chair. "Makes sense?" He parroted mockingly. "How so?"

"It's simple really." He said, his voice rising in just the slightest way as he sat up a little straighter. "Who do you go to when you have a loose stitching that you can't take care of yourself? You either go to someone in your family or the local tailor. And our killer lost a thread at the scene of Mulan's murder, correct? So it would only make sense for him to go to the town tailor if he doesn't have any close family members who could fix it."

"Then why'd he kill her if he needed her?" Sora asked, gaining a barely concealed glare of his own from the silverette.

"Because the press was given access to that information. All the public news stations were allowed to air that a grey thread was found. So, if the thread was terribly noticeable, the killer had to get it fixed. And he had to kill the tailor just in case she managed to put two and two together or tell someone else about it later on. He really just needed to cover his tracks; she was doubtfully even one of the original victims."

Riku leaned back, exhaling angrily. As much as he hated to admit it, the other had a point. "And how do you explain the cat? It doesn't make any sense with everything else he's done. He couldn't have possibly been covering his tracks with the feline."

Slate eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know. The cat was probably a mistake or an inconvenience. Either that or the cat was going to alert someone else of his presence. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"How can you be so sure that the cat doesn't mean something else? Maybe it's some kind of clue? This guy doesn't seem like the kind to make mistakes." Axel cut in before Riku eve had the chance to open his mouth, keen on keeping them from fighting once again.

"That's possible, but entirely unlikely. Due to the escalation in the amount of people killed and how they were killed, we can only assume that the man has become comfortable with what he's doing. He's probably started to feel invincible, so it would make sense for him to make a mistake now. He was being careful before, but now? He's becoming more and more careless with each person he kills because he feels like he's getting better at it." Zexion explained, his fingers continuing to knot around one another, the bones bending in seemingly impossible angles.

"You would know." Riku bit.

"I suppose I would." The criminal answered, a snarky sort of smile stretching his thin lips.

"You're nothing bu—"

The door swung open, the wooden frame slamming into the adjacent wall, revealing the slender framed cop from before, his eyes determined. "The station just got a call. Kairi Heart went on an errand for her parents earlier today and hasn't come back yet; she's gone."

Leon stood, his chair rolling back with a crash as his palms made contact with the table. "Sora, get me Xemnas on the phone. Now."

A/N: Bleh~ I don't like how this chapter turned out either. It's longer than the last, but it still feels choppy in places and the characters aren't really doing what I want them to. Honestly, that's why this chapter is a week later than I had originally intended it. I lost the characters and couldn't seem to find them again until earlier today. It's a pain.

But hey~, all crappy-ness aside, there was an almost kiss in this chapter! Pretty soon this story will actually be earning its M rating! Wooh~

Also, I apologize if Selphie's emotions seem off to anyone. I really tried to write her parts from the eyes of someone who really thought of their cat as a member of the family (and my cat was missing at the time- he's back now). And I also wanted her to seem like someone a bit younger than she actually is. I'm not entirely sure why, though...

Anybody else notice that Roxas has gone MIA?

Production: Next month should have two updates, but I make no promises. Writer's block is really getting to me and my English Comp. II course is about to begin to go along with my high school work. It should probably work out, though, since the next two chapters are more exciting than these past two have been (wink).

Quiz Winner(s): No quiz last chapter.

Quiz: An easy one this time- the killer mentioned grabbing the wrong girl and making mistakes in this chapter. Who was he supposed to grab and who was he supposed to kill? Also, what do you think of the story's pace so far? Do the characters move too fast or...?

A Little Word Math For You: Reviews = Motivation Motivation + Time = New Chapters. And they help with the writer's block too! (and yes, this is a plug for reviews, what of it?)^_^

And does fanfiction hate anyone else these days? Seriously.