Love or Blood

Chapter Thirty-One: Denial

xxxx

I woke late the next afternoon. Despite being well rested I felt mentally drained and my body was tired. For the longest time I simply laid in bed and stared hard at the stone ceiling above me. I could not allow myself to think about what had transpired last night. Yet I was bedridden at the mere thought of seeing the Count again. The day was going to be a taxing one, I could already tell.

With sluggish movements I turned to look at my nightstand. Upon it sat the little black box from the Count, and beneath that was the crumpled parchment that Nerah Vlando had given me. After marveling at the diamond earrings the Count had gave me, I quickly decided it best not to accept them. I did not want to give the wrong impression by wearing them. Much had happened the night before and I felt it sullied the gift. I had also done nothing denoting such a grand token. I would return them to the Count…the idea of that also kept me in bed.

The note from Lucien Lachance had not been read but I knew I had to soon, as I was certain he was expecting a reply. Again it was another thing I had been dreading. The Dark Brotherhood assassin was certainly the last thing I needed.

Rheena and Tualga had come in last night; mere moments after the Count had left. I was lucky to shove the earing box beneath my pillow before it was seen. It was something I could not explain. I gave them a half-truth about the Count's reason for seeing me, telling them that he wanted me early to help him with some matter. We were all still so very startled by his appearance. We all spoke of his looks but I decided it best not to tell them that I knew of the illusion potion he made. I was positive that the Count did not want others knowing such things.

I counted myself as lucky to awaken in the darkness of our bedroom alone. Still entangled in the covers, I wondered what horrible thing I should do first. Again, the idea of getting out of bed alone ailed me. Despite it though I reached for the small flint box on my nightstand and lit a candle. With extreme hesitance, I took the letter from Lucien Lachance and opened it. I rubbed my face wearily and braced myself for the reading.

My Dear Lady,

I do so hope that I am not troubling you with another letter so soon. I would be ever so hurt if you found me to be burdensome. At any rate, upon hearing of my underling's trip to Skingrad I simply could not help myself. I was overjoyed at the proposition to write to you, Abigale.

In all my haste with my rather lustful last letter, I had forgotten to propose an idea. Once I receive your first message (which should arrive any moment now) I would like to correspond with perhaps a meeting place for you and myself. I doubt I needn't remind you of how I say 'perhaps' very loosely, my dear lady. And I miss your sweet reluctance so...

You shall hear again from me soon, of this I am sure. I await your first letter with bated breath. Oh, and do not bother responding to this message. My underling is very much useless in matters of privacy; nothing that you'd compose would be sacred. She only obeys me out of fear for her wellbeing. A good quality in anyone who I denote worthy of my time, wouldn't you agree?

Yours Truly,

Lucien Lachance.

I stared at the letter with mortification. The insane Dark Brotherhood assassin wanted to set up a meeting place. He knew I would most certainly not agree and yet he continued to toy with me. I could tell in his writings just how much he was amused by my unwillingness. It disgusted me.

I crinkled up Lucien Lachance's letter and held it close to my chest. I heaved a heavy sigh and thought about all the trouble that man was putting me through and what I had done to deserve it. My head began to ache as I replayed all his letters and actions in my mind. I closed my eyes as I thought of this insane man. My breath labored and I felt a panic-stricken. I groaned audibly and tossed the covers back over my head. I was not ready to leave the warmth just yet…

xxxx

I was suddenly alone in the middle of the Maids Quarters and all was still and silent. I wandered the empty rooms questionably and called out to Rheena and Tualga but no one answered. Surprisingly though, I was not addled or disturbed by this. I simply turned around back into our room and went for my cleaning satchel; I was unsure why but I needed it, and I was happy to see it sitting on my bed. I went to shoulder my pack when I noticed how light it was. I then removed it and looked inside to see why.

Snippets of paper filled my satchel to the brim. Not thinking clearly, I poured them out of my bag and onto the ground. They covered the room's flooring. I picked up one of the pieces from a pile and examined it. I quickly made out Lucien Lachance's handwriting and tossed it angrily to the ground. "No." I said to the paper as I stood and went to leave the room. I was surprised though to see that a man was standing in my open doorway.

"Do you like my letters?" asked the now recognizable Lucien Lachance. "You haven't written back to me yet." He was not robed like he was in the alleyway. Instead he was dressed nicely, like the way he was when we first met outside of the bakery. He wore a dark green tunic with black pants and boots. His chocolate brown hair was neatly pulled back into a ponytail.

"I hate them." I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. "I've written to you…but I hate them. I hate you too." I was surprised by my own bravery, even more surprised at the pained expression on Lucien Lachance's face. "You're vile! Clavicus Vile! I-In…in evil imperial form! I despise you."

He stepped forward, a hand on his heart, and entered the room. "My Dear Lady, you wound me so. Why do you hate me?"

"I hate you because you are you!" I stomped my foot childishly as he approached. "I hate men! All you ever do is lie and kill and eat and sleep and rape!" I pointed a finger at him. "You are the embodiment of my disgust-"

And then he was upon me, taking me into his arms and kissing me heatedly. I tried to pull away or slip from his grip but my body lacked the strength. All movements were slow and dumb. "Love me." He said after breaking the kiss for a moment before coming at me again. "I want you to love me."

His hands pulled at me but I was able to shake myself away for a moment. "I don't love you! I refuse any man. Go away!" My protests were again muffled against his mouth. Then I felt even more engulfed by him as his grip tightened around me.

"Any man?" I heard him question but the voice no longer belonged to Lucien Lachance. I opened my eyes to see the Count. With pure shock I again tried to pull away. "Don't refuse me."

"Sir!" I exclaimed, trying now perhaps even harder to pull away. "This is bad! No!" But he held me tight and gazed at me intensely, a stare I always noticed but could never define. "This is bad!"

"It is not." He said matter-of-factly as his head descended to my neck where he inhaled deeply. "This is good. I want this." He moved quickly and brought his mouth to mine. I was so shocked that I feared moving but did so anyway. I said 'no' countless times against his feverish kisses, but my knees began to quake at the swiftness of his hands along my body. Then I was naked and on my back staring up at the night sky above me; my suddenly bare body on the cool grass did not bother me in the slightest.

The Count was on me, lying propped up on an elbow, his free hand roaming my bare body. My nakedness hardly registered as I closed my eyes and allowed the Count's hands to continue wandering my body freely. I made small noises as he stroked and caressed places that my mind and untouched body had trouble linking. I swallowed hard and opened my eyes to watch him touch me, but his ministrations were foggy and I could only make out his face and my increasing pleasure. But as I looked into his eyes realization dawned on me. This could go no further. This was bad. This was wrong. "Stop,"

"Why?" The Count quickly asked. He was so close to me, I was suddenly shy and unsure. How did this happen? Then he shifted back into the form of a grinning Lucien Lachance. "Do you like it better when I do it?"

xxxx

I shrieked and sat straight up in my bed, a glistening sheen of sweat adorned my skin. My heart raced and I found myself shaking. This type of nightmare was new and strange. I hardly dreamt about sex, I believed it was because I knew so little of it, but having it work itself into my nightmares was horrible. I placed my head in my hands and felt weak. Lucien Lachance's letter was now pressed against my face as I had held it in my sleep but I did not care at the moment. This horrible assassin was tainting my mind.

The Count in my dream disturbed me even more. I knew I had little control in a dream, but laying my naked self on the ground for him brought an uncomfortable blush to my cheek. I should not be dreaming such things. I should not allow such nightmares to plague me. Their impurity could further taint the Count and my relationship. I felt it important to show how platonic we were now more than ever, as it seems even I may have gotten something misconstrued.

In my newfound anxiety and disgust I was able to pry myself from bed. I put the letter aside and began folding my sheets back neatly on the mattress as I thought. I needed to rectify my nightmare and solve all current issues, especially the Dark Brotherhood problem. I considered telling the Count of Lucien Lachance's pursuits, as he might have been able to end it…but fear kept me from entertaining the idea for too long. The Count would be livid if he found out some murderer was trying to woo me. Even more so once I told him that it had been going on and I hid it from him.

I thought back of Lucien Lachance wanting to meet me. Desperately, I tried to take comfort in the safety of the Count's great walls. I thought of the guards constantly patrolling the halls and the maids wandering all about. My time being consumed by the Count himself also provided a level of comfort from Lachance. But then I thought of Vicente Valteri and Nerah Vlando. How easily they entered not only the Castle but the Count's private manor whilst the Count and I were both in it. The thought made me shudder.

I bit my lip and held Lucien Lachance's letter over the candle and watched it begin to burn. Deep down I knew soon something dreadful was going to happen. Tonight once I saw the Count and refused his gift he would probably banish me back down to the Maids Quarters, leaving me vulnerable to Lucien. And not only that, but said assassin would probably be receiving my first letter soon. Another man angered by my rejection, able to easily get into the heavily guarded Castle I reside in during the time that I am alone…

The letter turned into ash and scattered along the floor. I spread its powder on the stone with socked feet, kicking it all around the room until it seemed as though it never was. I stood then in the middle of our chamber, in the silence, and wondered what I could do to help myself. I rubbed the chill away from my arms and cast a longing glance to the black box on my nightstand. I feared I no longer had a choice, I had to decide.

xxxx

Nerves addled me so to the point that I could not stomach much food. I nibbled bread and sipped tea quietly and forced my attention on a book that might as well been written in Daedric. As hours ticked by I could no longer sit still. I had a plan to put into motion and it was going to take all of my willpower to follow it through.

The bath I took was long and hot. I used more soap then what was wise on my person, and then some. I made sure to take extra care of myself and did not leave until I was silky, soft and slick. I toweled down and took all the time in the world combing my hair and setting it into a neat ponytail. Once finished, I went to our bedroom and searched through my trunk for the clothing Tualga had bought me and selected the finest garments. I dressed slowly, pulling on a soft black blouse with emerald-green trim at the waist, collar and sleeves. I paired the outfit with its matching black skirt and my new little black shoes. I fiddled with the silk trim for a moment before I grabbed the box on my nightstand almost guiltily.

Again I found myself in the washroom, this time before a mirror inspecting myself. I took a deep breath and with shaking hands opened the box. What I was about to do went against my personality and position greatly. I eyed the gems for a moment more in awe again before carefully applying them. I silently thanked Dibella for having my mother pierce my ears, as it was a common practice for the priestesses. I looked myself over once more, being fully dressed. I pocketed the black box and squared my shoulders.

My reflection was pale and afraid despite my chin being held high and lips pursed. I laced my fingers together and placed my hands over my stomach. I tried to look regal, I tried to look brave, but the Count would probably see right through me. Regardless though, I was going to set things right. I would accept his gifts and wear them proudly – though truthfully I loved them. But I was also going to try to become exactly what he promoted me to be. So with a cool expression I turned and left the washroom. It was time to see the Count as his Personal Assistant.

xxxx

My hands shook as the silver key-ring jingled and the tumblers of another lock clicked. I took a deep breath and entered the Count's manor again as I had done so many times before. However this time was new. I tried to walk purposefully, not arrogantly or apprehensively, as I sought him out. I knew he would be in his bedchamber so I walked the winding corridors and passed his dozens of empty rooms with haste.

Once before his bedchamber I steeled myself. I knew this task was going to be a trying one indeed but I had to set everything right again. I wished to no longer feel odd around the Count. I wanted to be his friend and no more, but I feared something between us was different, like a shifting in the winds. I did not like it and it needed to be rectified.

I knocked on the door with my usual rhythm and awaited his call. I tried consoling myself mentally; perhaps I was jumping to conclusions and being paranoid. Maybe my complacency inside the Castle was causing anxiety. I feared I could never be used to such luxury. Regardless, I needed to discuss all my fears with the Count.

The door opened for me as I half expected it would. The Count stood there looking down at me gloomily; I knew without a doubt now that I had significantly hurt his feelings last night. I felt guilty and looked away from him for a moment. I was unsure of myself and how to cope with all I was thinking and feeling. I twisted my hands for a moment under his gaze, and then sighed defeated. "Sir, may I come in?" He nodded and stepped away, allowing my entrance. I continued to look up at him as I stepped inside. "Sir," I breathed, and could not keep the weary sound from it. "I...I need to talk with you."

The Count again nodded. "I know." I was surprised by his answer but followed as he beckoned to the sitting area of the room. He sat in his usual spot and I in mine before the lit fireplace. Despite the warmth it did little to lighten our moods. He looked as miserable as I felt and we both sat with estranged postures, I more rigidly while he seemed more slumped. "Go on."

I cleared my throat nervously at his disinterested tone and placed my hands in my lap. "Sir I feel that with my new position as your Personal Assistant that I…we should be able to speak more freely to each other." The Count said nothing but gestured with his hand for me to continue as he stared off into the fire. "Recently I feel that certain aspects of our relationship have gone… have gotten misconstrued –"

"Abigale Lynn," The Count interrupted, sounding drained. There was a pause and then he sighed, finally looking at me again, though this time anxiously. "Before you go on allow me to say a few things, would you?" I was taken aback by the newfound sincerity in his voice and mutely nodded to him. "I don't think anything is 'misconstrued' between you and I. Together we have found a unique form of companionship. I can freely admit that it has been a very long time since I have let one as close as I have let you."

The Count trailed off and simply sat there and looked at me. I feared that the conversation was taking the one turn that I was trying to pull from. "I am going by what feels natural for me, Abigale Lynn. Not as a vampire but as a man." At this I closed my eyes. Everything that I was trying to keep from happening was happening, and it was all due to him speaking before I could finish. All my preparations and thought-out speeches were useless now. I was doomed.

XXXX

"I am going by what feels natural for me, Abigale Lynn. Not as a vampire but as a man." The words themselves were hard to admit, harder to hear, but they had to be said. She bowed her head at them and closed her eyes. Her change in posture made Janus uneasy. Seeing her look so defeated made it even more difficult for him to bare himself. "Last night I made a mistake. I let the primal man in me take over and was driven by his basic instincts. I should have left you sooner. I should not have lingered and made you uncomfortable…but I wanted to stay, Abigale Lynn. I wanted to see you."

She finally looked up to him with her expression odd and fixed. "You wanted to 'see' me?" She questioned with a discerning air that made the Count feel immeasurably uncomfortable. He swallowed hard and felt like a child. It was not his peeping that he was apprehensive over reliving, but the confession he was trying to voice.

Janus felt it was now or never to come clean and tell Abigale Lynn of his feelings for her. Perhaps she would deny him, perhaps she would not. In any case, he heard her heartbeat last night and smelt the excitement on her skin. Before he was dismissed he knew that for just a moment she had wanted him. Maybe she denied it to herself or was unaware, but he knew of it, he felt it all. The simple fact that she desired him in any measure was lifting and encouraging.

"Yes I did." He said plainly as he leaned forward a bit in his chair. "You must realize what this is like for me Abigale Lynn…but please don't mistake my tone as one with a request for pity; I do not want such a thing. No, merely understanding." Janus laced his fingers together as he chose his next words carefully. He closed his eyes for a moment. "You came into my life out of thin air; quite literally it seemed for me. Now you are with me always and forever. I have watched you change so much…I had forgotten what change looked like and how wonderfully beautiful it is. Every time I see you I am reminded of such beauty."

Abigale Lynn studied the Count for a moment. She eyed him in ways that made Janus Hassildor feel very small. She wetted her lips and gave a cautious nod. "You wish to see me because I make you nostalgic?"

"Yes," He nodded. "But it is more than that."

She stiffened slightly at his desperate tone and proceeded cautiously. "Could you elaborate, Sir? I am afraid I still don't understand fully."

"I long to see you every night since our arrangement began." The Count forced, feeling so very strained by the admission. "You are so very beautiful, I cannot help myself. I feel weakened somehow by your own fragility and grace. You are precious and delicate and valuable to me."

"You find my humanity and mortality beautiful?" Abigale Lynn inquired with a more uplifted tone. The Count nodded, unsure of how to take the sudden lightness. Then her body language changed altogether. She laughed lightly and placed a hand on her chest. "Oh thank the Gods." She said happily and breathlessly. "You are telling me that you find life beautiful, the life within me?"

Janus was so taken aback by her allegation that he was at a loss for words. Yes he did like those things but that was not what his point was. "I care for you, Abigale Lynn." He said bluntly, trying to make his intentions plainer. In all his haste to pour out his heart, he ended up sounded like nothing but a vampire to her - a lonely, craving the youth and life of his companion, vampire. Did she really think so little of him? Did she find him incapable of mortal feeling? Was he sounding cryptic? How much plainer could he be?

"I care for you too, Sir. Oh, I'm so glad!" She put her head in her hands but a tired smile was present on her lips. "I was so afraid that there was something else, or something immoral here between us. Knowing that you want me around only as a symbol of sorts is most welcome news." The relief in her face hurt him and the grin she wore was false…he saw it was false. She knew well what he was getting at but she was denying him to proceed by jumping to some ridiculous conclusion.

He was being dismissed in the most uncompassionate way. She was pretending that his affection did not exist. She would not hear him even if he shouted it to the Gods. Abigale Lynn was not even granting him the courtesy to finish pouring out his heart to her. Dismissal was one thing but this was something else…it was cruel. 'And it is immoral?' He thought angrily. 'My affection is immoral?' The Count bristled and felt a small heated coil form in the pit of his stomach.

"I wanted to come here tonight and set things right between us. I am happy that you did it for me." She continued. She lied. Janus found himself looking at the girl before him in an entirely new light. The way she had just shut him up and cut all that he said out burned him inside, he had never thought to be so abused by Abigale Lynn. He watched her from down the bridge of his nose as she nervously placed some hair behind her ear. "I want to be your friend and servant. I want to live to make you happy, as happy as you've made me." Janus felt his face twitch and his hands hurt from the white-knuckled fists he had made in his lap.

Why would she lie to him like this? Why stop him from speaking how he felt? Why was she denying how she felt? She reciprocated his affections, so why refuse him? Was he so horrible a creature that she would rather deny her own heart just to keep him away? He was hurt, so hurt…once more. The Count could only think of his vampirism which had pushed his wife away. Was it happening again before it could even start?

"Well," Janus began slowly; his voice wavered slightly with emotion. His thoughts drifted to the secret chamber in which Rona lay. "You are completely willing to indulge my petty vampiric desires, yes? You don't find it disgusting? You have no qualms being a specimen for me?" He eyed her dangerously as he posed his questions. This would tell him the truth. Was his vampirism too repulsive for her to handle, was that why she was pushing him away? Depending on her answer he would know.

"I do not. And I shall do anything to make you happy, Sir." He listened as her heart thudded loudly in her chest then spiked for the briefest of moments. She had lied. Despite the sincerity in her voice she had lied. This left the Count with one conclusion: Abigale Lynn did not want - nor would ever - want him because he was a vampire. He was cold, unchanging and undead. Another who would not love him because of what he was.

If he had a pulse she would be his, of this he was certain. There was no doubt over the fact for Janus now. He sat back in his chair feeling so very wronged. What other reason would she say no to him for if not for vampirism? He cared for her; he had shown this countless times. He would give her anything she ever wanted or needed – according to her he already had. She cared for him too…the rejection would not be so great if she felt nothing for him. But she did, and she felt it was disgusting and immoral.

He wanted to fall into himself. He was cursed. He was disgusting for pining over the servant girl before him while his wife lay cold in the Chamber of Fate bellow. There was no excuse for him anymore, he was not something to be desired or cared for. He was a vampire of power and that was all. He would never again know love or warmth and he had no right to. A woman who actually cared and wanted him would deny him. He was the specter of Skingrad, the crowd-shy Count, and a hunter of the night. He deserved no one and had only just realized it.

"Sir?" Abigale Lynn's voice brought him back to his harsh reality. He made no attempt to hide his mournful and hateful expression. "A-are you alright?"

xxxx

The Count wanted me but what he really wanted was the life inside me. Seeing it made him happy, that was all. It was said by his mouth and I would hold him to it. There was nothing between us, nothing at all, and it would stay that way.

I had been grasping at straws until he said those few words. I then had something I could hold onto and use to stop whatever it was that he was trying to get at. Whatever he wanted to say was taboo and could not be. For both of us, I made it so it would never be and never had been. I cannot hurt someone by rejecting and admission that was never uttered or thought off.

Perhaps it was cruel of me but in the long run I was saving us both from suffering. No good could possibly come from our very platonic relationship taking a step into darker waters. I was nothing and no one.

Watching the Count's face fall and then twist let me know that he was onto my little wordplay. I could admit that I was trying desperately at being blatantly naïve. I hoped he would think me slow on the matter. It would not hurt us as much.

The Count's fingers had been intertwined and his nose and lips had been resting on them. He sat quietly for so long that I was beginning to get worried. "Sir?" I said softly. He continued staring into the fireplace, but his gaze sharpened at seemingly nothing. Then those angered narrowed eyes flicked to me and I recoiled slightly. "A-are you alright?"

He let out a sharp breath along his knuckles, much like a mirthless chuckle, and simply looked at me. I swallowed hard at the calculating gaze. The Count then unlaced his hands and placed them on either side of his armrest. He smiled at me but there was no emotion with it. "I see you are wearing my gifts." I then felt very nervous by his tone but was unsure why. I nodded to him. "And the clothes," He continued as he looked down upon me. "They were purchased by my housekeeper, correct?" Again I nodded as I began to fiddle nervously with my new shirt. "They were also a gift from me."

I did not like where this was going. I was unsure of what he was doing. "You are most generous, Sir. Thank you."

"There is no need to thank me, Abigale Lynn. You are mine and I shall see to it that you are always reminded of that little factor from now on." I did nothing but watch him as he rose. In truth I was apprehensive over the idea of standing. The room felt odd to me now, tense and angry, but the Count only smiled. "You have not visited the library recently. Let us go there."

The Count then held out a hand for me to rise with, I stared nervously at it and then him. With extreme hesitation I slipped my hand in his. His long fingers wrapped around my hand and his smile never wavered.

xxxx

I did not feel comfortable the entire walk to the library. The Count was too calm, too normal. I was beginning to question myself and all that had transpired moments ago. Maybe he really did only want me around because he liked watching me be mortal. It was possible but I found it highly unlikely. His face was far too hurt earlier when I played dumb. But maybe he did think I was foolish after all. Maybe he was brushing aside the entire ordeal on the idea of me being too simple to understand.

The Count talked to me about Vicente sleeping in as if all was normal and right. I could not keep myself calm. I jumped at his every move and held onto his every word as I scanned the books before me, unable to grasp the simplest of titles.

"Not in the reading mood, I take it?" He asked me from my far left. I glanced over my shoulder to see the Count leaning against the wall while thumbing through a book, hardly paying me any mind. "Quite unlike you."

"Sorry Sir," I murmured as I ran my finger down the spine of a book in front of me. "I can't seem to focus." I sighed, despite me getting exactly what I had wanted across to the Count, I did not feel as I should have. I should have felt lifted and freer, instead I was anxious and ill-at-ease. I wanted to believe that all was normal between us but I could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Maybe I handled the situation wrong…

"You could always come back here then, whenever you like." The Count stated normally as he placed the book he was examining back on its shelf. "Hmm, Abigale Lynn, do you know how vampires came into existence?"

The question was oddly welcomed. It helped get my mind off of other things and was much more normal to me. I spent many months now just answering random questions that the Count proposed. "No Sir I do not."

He laughed lightly at this and took another book from the shelf. "There are many variations of our origin but only one is true." He flipped through several pages, scanning for something, and then ushered me over. "This is the Father of all vampires." The Count lowered the book for me to see. He was pointing at a well detailed picture, but the image had still startled me.

I stared hard at the black and white image of the tall, horned, and horrible Daedric Prince Molag Bal. I knew him well, having read many volumes on the Daedra. He was the Prince of Domination, Harvester of Souls, King of Rape, and all around enslavement and torture of mortals. Though I knew of him I tried my best to keep from reading material on him. "I do not like that Daedric Prince, Sir." I said looking up to the Count meaningfully.

"Nor do I. But it is because of him that I am the way I am. He made the first vampire…that is not a tale that I shall talk of though, the mechanics of it all were rather gruesome. And I do not recommend you reading this book either." He said pointedly to me as he then shut the book. "However, I show you this because I would like your understanding. The Prince made the first vampire against her will. I was also made against mine. Now, I do not worship this Prince, but I can accept what I am." He placed the tome back in its proper place and sighed. "Others cannot accept it and I cannot hope that they ever will. But I want it known that I have learned to see it as a gift…and curse."

I wanted to reach out and comfort the Count but I thought better of it. I stilled my hand and swallowed down my words. In my currently precarious situation I felt it unwise to be too familiar together. Instead I hugged myself and said nothing. What could I say?

Blessedly, the Count decided to change the topic for me. He told me that we were to see off Vicente and Nerah Vlando. I walked with my usual brisk pace to keep up with him down the corridors. All seemed well with the Count…it had me very confused.

Author's Notes: Oh boy…oh boy…OH BOY. The next chapter is gonna have STUFF in it. XD I say no more.