BUM-BADA-BUM!

I'M B-A-ACK!

The total horror. What happened was, I figured that NOBODY is EVER going to believe this story once Vespers Rising comes out. So here it is. We'll try and get to chapter 45 odd before April 5th. What do you think? But I am not BACK, back if you know what I mean...

Here you go. Chapter Thirty-three. This is actually very interesting. I never really IMAGINED that I'd ever get this far. Don't even talk to me about publishing it. Wait, give me a second... There.

This chapter is almost one of the best I've ever written, I think, besides Chapter Seven in TPWSTM. I enjoy reading it over, and over again, and finding the little mistakes to touch it up. Personally, I enjoy the last part the most, as it was almost totally made up from my imagination. Please though, I need to know if it's realistic. Good writing means nothing if it's not realistic. Please tell me if you don't think so.

As a comment to that last sentence, of course you'll think so. I'll virtually hit you with a non-able-to-hurt rubber ducky if you do think so. So, please, don't think it's good. I hate using my ducky.

R, B, and R! (Read, Barf, and Review!) (Barf over the horrible story...)

L: So? Really? Seriously? You're kicking Ed out of the rest of the story?

M: Why do you think he's not sitting in this room right now?

L: You answered a question with a question. Non-acceptable.

M: No. I am answering a statement with a statement. Ha. Ha.

L: Why in the world did Edward even think about asking you to marry him?

M: Who knows?

L: Okay, seriously. Stop that Maddie.

M: I think not.

L: Do you think you're getting annoying?

M: My opinion doesn't count. Am I?

L: WRITE!

M: Hm... That's an exclamation... OKAY!

L: This stinks...

M: ...

Four Weeks Later;

Chapter Thirty-three;

Two Promises - Kept

Madeleine took a deep breath.

This was it. A five step pathway leading to a rented home in Paris. But was the promise worth it? That was what she had to ask herself. Was the promise worth it? Waste three lives and not fulfil what I said I'd do? - Madeleine didn't know how to respond to the question. She knew the answer that needed to be put there, but it was hard to put it in it's place. She would be killing her own nephew. But the nephew was Luke's son. He should easily be a rival, and an enemy to be hated. But he isn't. Madeleine noticed people starting to glance curiously at her. Maybe I'm just... Weird. I can't do this. I can't kill him. But if she did that, Luke would know he had nothing to fear from her, and he would just make the potion over again.

If that happened, he would inevitably drink it one way or another. The world would be... destroyed. And people like Michelle, who don't know anything about this- Dead. Gone. Just like Edward. But it wasn't like Edward. He had known the risks. And like walking back into a burning house to save her, he had jumped blindly off a cliff. All because he loved me. That can't go to waste. Madeleine started up the stone steps.

Madeleine stepped into the first room, her black hair falling freely to her waist. She reached up a finger to feel Edward's ribbon, but for the millionth time in four weeks, Madeleine reminded herself that it wasn't there. She made no noise as she walked closer on the wood floor. In a side room, a left turn off from the main hallway, there was a figure hunched over a writing desk that had been rather pushed aside into a corner. Madeleine pulled out the dagger she had made. It was exactly like the one she had left with Luke. It had an ivory handle, with a large, black, engraved M on it.

Her brown, French-style dress nearly brushed the floor, and Madeleine held her breath, trying not to let it make a sound so nothing would be heard in the room except the scratching of the quill pen. One minute Mads. That's all it'll take. You have a clear shot. Madeleine wanted to throw the dagger and be done with the gruesome deed, but her hand was trembling so much she was sure that she'd miss the shot. As she stepped closer, she raised the dagger above her head- and the young man stopped writing.

Both people paused, and the room was deathly still. Each seemed to be trying to out-wait the other. And then Madeleine saw the problem. The oil lamp on the desk was clearly showing her shadow on the wall to the left of her. She cursed herself. How could she have been so stupid? Do it now. The dagger flashed down, but almost at the same instant, the man whirled around and met the dagger with a dagger of his own.

Their eyes met as the two people stood face to face. Madeleine almost gasped. Luke's resemblance in his son was eerie. They were two different people, but there was the same face, hair, structure, and the menacing look of hate in the brown eyes that hadn't changed. It was like looking a younger Luke.

The blades clashed back and forth. Neither opponent was better than the other. Perhaps Luke might of taken Madeleine down with his own dagger, but Madeleine could see that his son wasn't as attentive as he was. She pressed harder. Suddenly, a well-aimed slash countered with a lightly-held position. Madeleine's dagger went spinning away across the room. She looked desperately around for a weapon of some sort, but there was nothing.

Luke's son had been backed into a the corner nearest the writing desk, and behind him was a heavy oak bookshelf with books on it. Madeleine could see that as her only weapon. Side-stepping Luke's son, she reached for the biggest book she could find, but the wooden floor beneath her was old and worn. It collapsed.

Madeleine leaped back, and she had a clear view of the bookshelf as it silently began to fall. But the man didn't hear, or see it, and he was faced away. "Look!-" Madeleine reached out and grabbed frantically for him, but the man pulled away. "It's fall-" It was too late. There was a giant crash as the bookshelf landed on top of him.

Madeleine's eyes widened and she stepped away. She hadn't wanted it to end like this. She had just wanted it to be over and done with -quickly. But- but this wasn't like that. She hadn't killed him, this wasn't murder, it was an accident. An accident that she had caused. But it wasn't on purpose. She took another step away.

Why is it so quiet? Blood pounded in Madeleine's ears. For once, her mind was blank on what to do. And then she heard the front door open and footsteps in the hallway. Madeleine whirled around. A young man stood in the doorway, hands at his sides. His eyes flickered around the room, they widened, and he strode quickly over to where the bookshelf had fallen.

He knelt down, one hand gently on the wood. And then he turned to Madeleine, zeroing in on her. "What happened?"

Madeleine took another step back. The man was younger than Luke's other son, but it was easy to see that they had been brothers. The hair wasn't just black, it had light streaks of red in it. But the eyes were still the same. A flashing dark brown. "I-"

The young man stood up. "You killed him." He breathed. "You murdered him."

"No!" Madeleine shook her head. "I-"

"Who are you?" The man walked towards her. He pulled a dagger out of his pocket. His voice was low and soft- threatening. His lip was slightly curled up, like a snarling wolf, about to pounce. "Why are you here."

Madeleine backed up desperately against the wall near the door. She could feel her heart pounding wildly, frightened. "I didn't do it." She breathed. "It was an accident. The floor collapsed and the bookshelf fell."

"You're a liar." The man breathed. His dagger moved next to her neck. Ready to slice at any given moment. "Why were you here? I've never seen you before." He doesn't know. For a moment, Madeleine was struck by surprise. Luke hadn't told either of his sons the whole story. "You aren't Jane. Or Katherine. One has blond hair, and the other red. Who are you?"

Madeleine didn't know how to reply. She had only wanted to kill Luke's oldest son. Not both. Both wasn't just murder, it was slaughter. "I'm your aunt," She whispered. "Madeleine."

A flicker of confusion crossed over the young man's face and Madeleine took her chance. She slipped out of his trap and lunged for her dagger at the other side of the room. Scooping up the dagger, she held it in the right position just as the opposing dagger slashed towards her. There was the clash of metal in the room.

The two faces were six inches from each other, each breathing heavily. One of terror, and the other of something that Madeleine couldn't tell. Anger? Hate? Confusion? Annoyance? Wait, all of the above. Madeleine slowly pushed Luke's son back away from her as she stood up.

"You can be hanged for murder." The man whispered. "You don't have to have a thousand witnesses. I know strings that I can pull."

Madeleine gritted her teeth and didn't reply. She slashed upward at him, forcing him to back away. Although he might of been the younger, he was a better fighter than his brother. Madeleine found herself hard-pressed to force him out into the middle of the room.

The fight became a rhythm. Madeleine's slash, Luke's son's block. Stab, dodge. Twist, deflect. Madeleine spun around, aiming for his head. She didn't really feel the dagger's slice, she just... knew. There was a pause where everything was still, and then the wave of pain came. Her legs turned to Jell-O, wobbling under her. They wouldn't support her weight.

Madeleine closed her eyes. She didn't want to see the world above her as she landed on the floor. A fresh spurt of pain hit. A boot was planted on her side, and then there was a tug. Madeleine's eyes flickered, and then opened to a growing pool of blood on the front of her dress, and on the floor. My blood. She realized. Madeleine tried to take a deep breath, and attempted to lift the ton iron weight that seemed to be on her chest.

She couldn't.

Luke's son stood next to her, cold brown eyes staring down. Madeleine struggled to make her mouth form words. She could see the edges of the room wavering in front of her eyes, turning into gray. My last words. She would of laughed if her breath hadn't been so precious. She said the first thing that popped into her head. "Tell- tell Tom that I'm going to get him b- back for ruining my old dress. I- I haven't forgotten that."

Her lungs were out of air, and it was a painful struggle to fill them up again. The dark gray crowded up around the young man's head and Madeleine couldn't see past it. She fought the slight, yet sickening smell of her own blood away. Suddenly she knew what she needed to say. No wishes, or dreams. They rarely came true. Madeleine knew that now. But- sometimes, what you need was a dream. To keep you going. "Tell Luke-"

"How do you know my Father's name?" The younger son was instantly on the alert. "I never told you."

Madeleine decided not to explain. Her time was limited. "Tell him- tell him- that he kept his promise. And- and I kept mine. That I did it for a reason. Not for revenge." The black and gray appeared to swirl around the young man's head. Madeleine tried her best not to focus on it. Her lungs labored. "He'll... he'll know what I mean- when- when you tell him."

Then the black swallowed the man up. Madeleine closed her eyes again, hoping that the black would start swirling away. But she could feel it as it got closer. All sense of what was where, dissolved away. She was falling. Falling for- eternity, in complete black. Madeleine opened her eyes again, but nothing was there. The black had conquered all. It was a thick black curtain, that left her nothing to see, but herself. Madeleine tried to push herself up, but her hands wouldn't work. Nothing was. She could feel the black creeping into her. Trying to grab onto her; take her wherever it wanted her to go. Dulling her senses till she could only, yet barely see.

She screamed. But she couldn't hear her own voice. The black was squeezing into her skull, taking over her brain, commanding it. Pain was a neighbor, that came to visit every time her lungs struggled up and down. But she could still think- until it was stolen from her. Is this what it's like to die? I- I don't like it.

One by one, the little threads of Madeleine's mentality snapped. Till only one was left hanging. Lillia, Grace, and Hope... Lillia- But suddenly a thought rammed into it. Maybe- maybe wherever I'm going, Edward's going to be there too. Madeleine clung to the thread for a few more moments, then it snapped, and she tumbled off into the darkness and black.

Madeleine Cahill had a long list of things she had done in her life. It mostly consisted of pinecone-throwing, and prank-playing, but she had almost never been forced to do something she didn't want to do. But one of those things- was dying.

L: Gaw...

M: I know, seriously dude. Don't you think you should have more consideration for your sister...

L: That was a question.

M: No. That was a statement.

L: You know what I mean...

M: Yeah... I do...

L: STOP DOING THAT!

M: My God! Talk about someone who doesn't care about other people's happiness!

L: Talk about someone who doesn't care about MY happiness!

M: Oh, get out here!

L: Touchy, touchy... I'm going... I'm going... Edward is watching hockey anyway...

M: Brothers...

Well, what do you think? Crappy, or not crappy?

Technically that's the wrong thing to say, since I'm going to say it's not awesome anyway. It's good. (some of my personal best) But not amazing/awesome.

Question; Ditto above. Do you think Madeleine made the right decision? Even with Lillia, Grace and Hope?