I originally intended for The Lord's Love to be a one-shot based around music and teenaged drama. Yet…seeing as there are a couple readers who really liked this,I'll continue it for now. My ideas are pretty scarce since most of the stupid drama came from an accumulated mass of experiences back in high school. I'm willing for any suggestions on how to continue this story. At the moment, I think there will be two alternative endings, wait, maybe three. This chapter is pretty short because I've been a little short on time, so I'm scared it may not be at my best quality. Though there should be more chapters popping up fairly soon that are somewhat better.

Oh, and I am changing my pen name soon, I'm going to change it after I put a few more chapters up in various stories. If you check out my profile the last week of November, I should have the actual new pen name typed up and I'll change it on the last day of that last week to it.

By the way I dedicate this chapter to the two people who reviewed, Crouge and ER.

So, read on.

Crouge: Thank you for saying my story is "fabulous"!

ER: ……………eyes very wide and eyebrow cocked……………….dealings with water buffalos? ...They're edible, right?

By the way, the disclaimer on the first chapter still applies and will always apply, so I'm not going to type it any more. If I owned Escaflowne I wouldn't be writing fan fiction, I'd make it a goddamn new series.

Chapter 2 - Alternate Ending # 1

Dilandau's pale, slender fingers twitched in anticipation against the handle of the worn pewter lab equipment. All the students had ceased their conversations, focusing and straining their ears to listen to Mr. Fanel reprimand Millerna. Only a few coughed or waved the air around their faces to rid them of Millerna's "perfume". Dilandau listened to make sure his teacher didn't waltz right back into the classroom before he could stop him.

He took in the gas-filled air and knew his clothing had enough of the substance to set him on fire at least. His eyelids drooped with sheer delight at the thought of all the screaming teenagers and the death of his suffering.

No more of it, no more…nothing.

The fingers on his left hand pushed the petite box from the larger match box; exposing his weapons, small match sticks. He tilted his head back, but kept his burning gaze on the match held delicately between his thumb and middle finger. The stick was hidden from view to most, even though it didn't matter. Everyone still held their attention to the door. Dilandau closed his eyes and leaned his chair back on its hind legs.

His put his feet against the table in front of him, then rested his head back on the lab counter. His silver bangs spread out and covered his widening, psychotic gaze. They will die, all of them. The albino could only imagine the bodies flailing in agony as the flames singed their clothes, skin, hair, eyes. He smiled. He bet they would cry when the flames felt underneath their nails and licked their eyelashes.

His heart rate accelerated from the mere thought, his breaths quickened. Too quickly, too quickly, the breaths rocketed, rocketed and took flight. Dilandau's chair slammed forward onto the ground. His momentum brought him forth into a sitting, fetal position.

One more gasp of air, then his chilling cackling began. His sitting position escalated with every wild shriek, standing him up with his back arched along with raised arms and clawed finger. The entire classroom jumped at the sudden sounds and stared at him in confusion and a few, in horror. Folken opened the door and looked in to see the commotion, Millerna peered around her teacher.

Dilandau elevated the match to its container.

The teacher suddenly recognized the smell, "Gas."

Students screamed at the top of their lungs, one screeching, "God". Folken ran to him to grab it before Dilandau could carry out his intentions, setting the room on fire like a crazed pyromaniac. But by the time the strange man made it to the middle of the room, he was too late.

Dilandau ripped the match head against the rough box edges.

The once transparent air was engulfed in a sudden yellow-orange. A round two for frightened screams barely had time to cry out their last wishes or darkest secrets, their air confiscated by the fire. Many faces distorted in terror, except for Dilandau's face which smiled in utter pleasure from the mind-numbing burns. Their bodies crackled in the blaze devoid of breathe, suffocating and incinerating…incinerating into nothing.