A/N Hey! YAY! 2 People reviewed! I know I said you didn't have to, but it still makes me feel good. Ok, I don't really know about this chapter. I think it might not be as dramatic as you guys like, but hey, I'm not really...into...drugs...just rock music. So any way, hang out, have fun, ROCK ON, and of course, READ!

Special thanks to TrulySheena, Christine06 and Animegirl51, my three truly amazing betas. Thanks, you guys!

"Christine?" Ashley said as Christine rushed out of the hospital. The blood kept trickling down her index finger, like a snake in the sand, a wire, being pulled and pushed, choosing to go to the laptop or the wall, slurring through the air. It seeped under her nail, as her whole finger began to turn red. Where to go? She couldn't go to Meg's house; Mrs. Giry would go crazy, thinking her father was just a victim. Where should she go? In the bag, there was only her credit card, her keys, a light blue cell phone, and 'no...' IT was there, the one thing which ruined her life, made her loose her boyfriend, her best friend, and become all-too-close to Mrs. Queen Bee of Jordon High. IT, the one thing she wanted to disappear, the compass which has held a place in her daily ritual since that night...that night...

Slowly creeping away from the streetlights, Christine quickly took IT out, pressed it to her pale skin, and sliced, slowly creeping towards that natural high which comes from knowing you control the pain. So much for 'never again'...

The blood dripped down, creating rouge ribbons around her hand as she silently danced her dance.

Then, the blood stopped.

The pain went away, the high became a low, the control, disintegrated...and only perfect silence remained for a minute, an aura of happiness before it disappeared into nothingness...and still more natural high needed.

Christine quickly packed all of her supplies up and headed out of the alleyway, down to nowhere. Where to go? She had the money, the connections, now all she had to do was choose her place. The bar? The school hang? No, of course, the alleyway, the place where her true friends are, the people who saw past the grades, popularity, and realized she was nothing more than one of the millions specs of dirt on this world, begging for release from the same world, but still hoping to stay close to where the release is, on earth.

She walked towards the alleyway, like a moth to a flame, a spider in the night, a piece of sand in the sieve, falling, falling away from the world...

Then she was there.

Smoke filled her senses and clouded her mind. Suddenly, she was in a world all her own, a world where death didn't matter, in fact it came swiftly and welcome. She could have died in that moment and fully lived, she would have opened hr arms to the sweet smell of rotting flesh. Nothing really mattered to her. Anyone could see.

"What are you doing here?" a man who Christine could not see through the fog, asked her.

"Nothing really matters to me." was her reply. Though she couldn't see the man she was talking to, 3 feet in front of her, she could clearly see a man walking towards her. He was tall, maybe 7 feet tall. There was a little stubble, probably 3 or 4 days worth. He passionately a wig, which nobody but her realized that. His skin was lightly tanned, and, she must admit, was very handsome. The only problem she could find was a black mask, like one a 12 year old would wear to scare the girl he has a crush on, covering his whole face, only leaving space for his eyes and mouth.

Quite frankly, it scared Christine to death

Quite frankly, the man itself scared her to death.

He was coming closer to her, closer...soon she could smell the whisky on his breath...oh how that smell seemed so familiar to her now, much more than a mere 3 weeks ago. Before everything seemed to play out like an opera, where everybody lost. Oh, how she wished she could go back to a time that seemed like lifetimes ago, when in reality it was only a few weeks. She shuddered at how much she had grown in 3 weeks.

She shuddered at the thought that it had only been 3 weeks.

3 weeks since she lost all hope.

3 weeks since her life came crashing down.

3 weeks since she first met the man who stood before her.

3 weeks since she started questioning life.

3 weeks since she started cutting herself.

3 weeks...since she was raped.

Ah, how 3 weeks could seem a lifetime, yet seem a day. It was amazing, Christine had grown so much, yet gained no knowledge in the process.

Ah, what a beauty she was. She was brave, not only for moving on, but for surviving. She was so beautiful, so pure, so unknowing. He had kissed her passionately, like so many before her. He didn't even recall her face, but he could recall that look anywhere...

The look of pure hate.

He didn't care for her, no, in fact e was only here to see the final effect. Countless girls, countless times. Sometimes they would come willingly, sometimes it was force. Always a girl, always brown hair, brown eyes, always 16, always a virgin, though they never left that club that way. He said this one was chosen the same way, but no, it was her smile that he felt he had to rip frm her pretty little face.

Always for 3 weeks afterward, he would follow the girls around, seeing how they changed, loving how he had caused it. Some killed themselves, too far into insane to ever come back out. Some died, some just began to hate life. All in 3 weeks, like a growth spurt. When and if the women to be did die, he would always be there, at their funerals, smiling, knowing he caused it, laughing because he caused it. Loving the quiet sobbing from the parents, the friends, the people who had love to give to that person. Hoping they would give it back.

A life ruiner he was...a life ruiner named Erik Silkeua..