Author's Note: Allow me to ramble for a long time.

I've been planning this since the middle of Witch's Prophecy. It's a sequel, but you needn't read Witch's Prophecy to get it. Okay? All will be explained in this, my second LoK fanfic. I am including Kain, and yes, it is first person, and yes, from Kain's perspective. I may or may not pull an Elizabeth Kerner and do it, switching chapters from Amanda to Kain to Amanda... (Or, perhaps, like Lok: Defiance). However, this first chapter must be dedicated to Amanda because she's been so patient with the bullets shooting into her body and the bleeding and the avoidance of death and...heee.... Um. Has been watching way too much Foamy the Squirrel

PS: I rewrote parts of the chapter describing Kamael. I'm sorry if I got lazy, thanks to WillieHewes for reminding me that being lazy is no way to write a story, and to take my own advice. Bows

--Amanda--

I woke to pain. It was more like waking up after finally falling asleep, sick with fever and vomiting, and dream something pleasant before you rise again to the same waking nightmare. I saw faces drift before my warped vision, twisted into monsters with fangs dripping with blood. I don't remember if I screamed.

"Are you awake?" a voice is asking me.

"I don't know. Don't care. Wanna sleep." I curled into myself, hoping for the best - which is to say, to die. Cold fingers cupped my face and forced me to sit up. I tasted something on my lips, and drank an elixir of some kind that felt like fire and ice cream and Raziel's kiss.

Before it came the point of painful, it was taken away. I fell asleep again. Death was not meant for me, obviously. I had surreal dreams about my cat, my mom, and my old apartment. I dreamed that mom came to the cathedral and she met Raziel, and looked pretty happy to see him. It was a vague misconstrued idea in my brain that I knew would not now come true.

"Wake up, girl."

Cold hands pulled me out of my mind. I sat up, my mind made of cotton. The first thought that hit me was I was really cold, and these clothes sure as hell didn't feel familiar at all. I stared into the face of the dark-haired vampire Darius.

He was the vampire who had taken me in along with Raziel, when he had first come crashing through this world due to casting a spell in the woods of Upstate New York. I was a foolish wanna-be gothic girl with nothing to lose, who sought to pluck a friend out of nowhere. I truly admit that I had no idea what I was doing, or what exactly I had gotten myself into. By the time I realized what had happened, I was too proud of my accomplishment to realize the weight of the destruction I would cause. It was Raziel the Soul Reaver who came to me through a portal in space, and it was only now that I began to regret ever trying magic in the first place. But I own my mistake and the responsibility, only to have nearly paid for it with my life.

Darius's grin could have terrified any murderer from here to Alaska. His teeth seemed already fastened on my throat yet he sat on the edge of the bed about an arm's length away. I had no reason to fear him, yet something about his face made me want to jump off the bed and crawl into the corner.

"Relax," he purred, reaching out to touch me. I flinched when his cold fingers came into contact with my arm. I felt extremely warm, but it could've been because I was flushed. "Are you feeling any better?"

I didn't know what he meant. I remembered very little. I remember that moments before dreaming, I knew for sure I was dying - just as I knew that Raziel was leaving and there was very little I could say in the matter.

My back hurt. I felt something pinch and twist against my skin and realized it might be a bandage. But it was just an annoyance. Nothing too strenuous. I brushed my hands over where I felt the sensation and encountered the cloth, meanwhile never taking my eyes off of Darius.

"I can get up and get some clothes on if that's what you mean. In the meantime, can I have some damn privacy?" I know, I sounded much too bold for my own good. But when I was in the slightest amount of pain, I got grumpy - real fast.

I seemed to have scared him into obeying, at least for the moment. Once I was alone, I wandered aimlessly around the room. I was immensely weak. I kept retreating to the bed to sit down. What I could tell about the room: it was neat. There wasn't much more to describe than that, other than there being a bed, a single dresser, and a small bathroom. After regaining some of my strength, I visited the bathroom before examining myself in the mirror, naked and looking a tad thinner than I had remembered.

Perhaps I was paranoid, but I checked myself all over for any sign of bite marks. It was hard searching when I couldn't bend my back the way I wanted it to, thanks to the bandage. Plus, I wasn't sure if it had fully healed all the way, or if I was opening it and it was bleeding. There was a towel hanging behind the door and I took it. My hair was a mess, but I didn't care. I wrapped the towel around me and walked toward the dresser.

Amazingly, all of my clothes were here. Darius must have brought them. I wondered whether or not he'd brought his amazing trio of Kafele and the twins.

My hands started to shake as I fitted a black v-neck shirt over my slim frame. It was a good deal looser than I remembered, but it wasn't sagging and at least I looked... presentable. I returned to the bathroom, the trembling I was suffering spreading down to my legs. I splashed water onto my face and into my hair, combing my fingers through the short locks before turning to the door.

Darius stood there, and this time he brought a friend.

They moved long enough for me to get out of the bathroom, fully dressed in the black shirt, dark hip-hugging flares, and a pair of white socks.

Darius bowed grandly, seemingly less at ease in the presence of this other vampire. I was glad to see him squirm, but there was an aura about this vampire that made me cold like something terrible.

"This is my Sire," Darius explained, bowing deeply and motioning to the taller being.

Darius's sire - how to describe him? His hair was pale white, with deep lines of age and wisdom folded into his face. But these lines did not detract from his otherwise beautiful, ethereal face. He gave off the impression that he was some angel from heaven that fell into very hip, modern vampire clothes. Long, black leather duster that fell nearly to the floor, with only three shining metal buttons to hold it in front, wide pockets on the sides, and sleek black trousers. His shirt was metallic gray and silk, so shiny that I really wanted to touch it. He did not appear pampered, merely gracefully aged, with black eyes and finely arched brows.

"I am Kamael," he said, his deep voice hitting the deepest roots of my being. "And I am the one who brought you back from the edge of death."

Oh, yeah? And why would that be, I wonder? My mind thought on its own. I was afraid of him reading my thoughts. I tried to block him, and it seemed to have worked. I suppose being a sorceress gave me such advantages.

Unfortunately, I was still tired so I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say. So I didn't say anything. I let my shoulders droop and my weariness show, only because I didn't want to start a conflict so soon after waking up. I was hungry, yet the thought of food made me nauseated.

"You seem well off, but you have only rested for awhile. Still, it is fast healing that has brought you back to us."

Back to you? I want to go home. I'm not staying here, no way in hell.

The strength to guard my mind was waning. Kamael smiled, his fangs glinting in the soft light spilling from the lamp next to the bed. The two kindred led me back to the bedside and tucked me in. My clothes made it harder to go to sleep, but it felt really good to lay down again.

"I am afraid you won't be going home," Kamael whispered, brushing my hair back. His touch was like ice and he smelled like blood. "You see, Darius has power over you now, and if you should ever think of running away, you will find yourself yourself haunted by thoughts of him. You are under his willpower, little Amanda, and nothing you can do will break you from it."

It was apparent that his will was greater when I passed out, a snapshot image of Darius's sneering face the last thing I could recall.

Author's Notes: I know some of you are probably really disappointed in the last story. I have no means to fix it, or know exactly what's wrong with it. But I'm not satisfied with it. If you think otherwise, that's great...and if you agree, that's awesome, too. I'm just not quite sure what it is that draws me to write... even if it is a little quirky, and makes no sense... this is still all practice to me. I'm an aspiring writer, with absolutely no hopes pinned up right now. I have other talents, but writing is a good way for me to deal with every day frustrations.

LoK is a good story to sink your teeth into, if you pardon the phrase. It's also a good fanfic to base your stuff on, if not a little bit more challenging than your average FF7 fanfic, or what-have-you. Basically, I respect Eidos and Eidos interactive, and Crystal Dynamics and the story-makers that make my make-believe world shine all the time. I don't own Raziel or Kain, or even vampires, for their story is older than old itself. I have the deepest respect and honor the people who worked hard to make Raziel who he is... and Kain... and Nosgoth itself breathe with life, even at its most decadent state.

I'm not trying to remake anything. I'm just trying to be what I am... a writer. I'll no longer 'beg' for reviews anymore. They'll come when they do. Maybe I'm just tired. Laughs