Alright, here's chapter 3. If u read, plz review. I'm really getting depressed here. Even if u're just commenting on the today's weather, plz say something so i kno that someone read it. Anyway, enjoy this little bit:

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As we entered his office, Father Izawa motioned to a chair and I sat. He didn't say a word, as he sat behind his desk. For a moment he simply stared at its clear surface.

The tension was back. I wanted to scream at him to say something, to tell me what was going on, and why Shido wasn't back yet. The silence continued.

He opened his mouth once, as if about to speak, but then closed it again & continued to stare at his desk. I was starting to get scared. After a while I began to wonder if he hadn't forgotten I was there.

I leaned forward quietly, placing my fingertips on the edge of the desk. "Father?"

He looked up at me. His jaw dropped a little as he saw my face and a sadness grew in his eyes – and, was that . . . fear creeping in at his brows? He stood quickly and turned away from me. In that moment I did pray to whatever power might care about my life. (Please, let Shido be unharmed! Please!)

When the Father had composed himself, he turned back to me. "Riho, I'm sorry if I've caused you to be anxious. You're friend – Mikao, you called him? He was on his way to warn us –"

"Warn us?! About what? What's going on in Kyoto?" Then I remembered. "Shido!" I gasped. I was on my feet in an instant.

"No, no! Calm down now, child. As far as we know, Shido's just fine." He raised his hands, trying to pacify me. "But, Mikao . . . he's passed on now."

I was overcome by emotions pulling me in different directions. I fell back into the chair as I simply stared. Shido – Shido was alright. I could have cried, I was so relieved. But then, Mikao . . . When you're immortal for all intents and purposes, the thought of a friend's death is just as indescribable as it is unexpected. It leaves a hole in you; and it's all you can do to not let fear or anger fill that hole and swallow you, just as they were swallowed by death. I knew the Father wasn't wrong about Mikao. We'd seen too many vampires killed over the past few decades, for him to make a mistake.

Father Izawa came and knelt beside me. "He was attacked outside Tokyo. It was a miracle he made it this far. He should have died long before he did with the amount of silver in his system."

I had become cold – unable to feel pain or sorrow or fear. I simply listened to the words, my eyes focusing on one spot but not seeing, as the old man took my hand.

"Don't think he died in vain, child! I'm sure his time had come. He gave so much to make it this far.

"There have been troubles in the south of late. I should have told you."

The unattainable thought from before twitched.

"Kyoto's been under attack not by average Breeds, but by vampires."

Twitch.

"I'm sorry, Riho. I shouldn't have promised Shido I'd keep this from you."

Tw-Twitch.

"He came to me and explained. He said he had to go, and immediately –"

Twitch!

"—and that I was to know where you were at all times until he returned."

Twi-Twitch!!

"Then Mikao showed up today. He came to just before he left us. He said that Shido had sent him to keep you safe. At least that's all we could make out – there was so much silver, & so much blood taken –"

"What?" I was shaken out of my stupor. "Who took it?" I jumped up. My breath came hard and with difficulty.

"W-we d-don't know." The Father stood and quickly backed toward his desk, staring at me. I thought of the neck wound. It seemed unnatural – cannibalistic and skewed. Something felt very wrong. The nagging twitch of a thought was almost throbbing now. But it still wouldn't come. It caused an anxiety which threatened to break through my semi-paralyzed state.

Father Izawa had backed around his desk, his widened eyes never leaving me. He ran for the door, and burst out, leaving it open.

I was still preoccupied. My eyes were again trained on one spot. Only this time, I wasn't cold. I was raging with energy. Pulsing. Throbbing. It was building, collecting inside me, inside that hole left by Mikao's death.

The door slowly closed. The room grew dark. Everything slowed. Pulsing. Darkness. Throbbing. Something . . . – forced breath – there . . .

A steady hand came to rest gently between my tense, trembling shoulder blades. A deep, velvety voice spoke softly, calmly in my ear. "He hasn't taught you how to deal with this kind of power surge, has he?"

Warm. Caressing. Dangerous. I knew this voice.

Twitch.

"Don't get worked up over me. You'll strain yourself if you don't calm down." I felt some of the energy leave me. "That's right. Trust me; I can help you." I slowly let my shoulders sag, dropping their hunch bit by bit. "You belong to a gifted race. This power is your right. You must learn how to use it." The voice soothingly crooned in my ear.

There was another hand on the back my neck. It caressed my skin; soothed the tension in me. I felt more energy draining out through those strong, satin fingers, as my head fell gradually forward.

I was lowered back into the chair, drained now of that paralyzing tension. It occurred to me to wonder what was going on. I was still surrounded by complete darkness. And the presence from before had returned, although it didn't inspire the anxiety it had before. It was so familiar, yet – distant, unrecognizable. So, it hadn't been Izawa before; it was . . .

Cain!

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So, u want more? Crave more? Don't ever want to think about it again? Repulsed by it? Don't give a rats ass? Want to know what's for dinner? Then, REVIEW, dammit!!!!!!!!!

Twitch.