Hey guys. So my schedule has FINALLY been sorted out . . . wanna hear my list of classes now? Monday Wednesday Friday I have Biology 120 (Ecology and Population), Spanish, and Biology 122 (Genes and Development). That afternoon I also have pilates (which is killing me. Like, I've never considered myself weak [actually, I'm pretty in shape] but that killed my abs. Seriously, my abs are broken.) Then Tuesday and Thursday I have Honors Humanities Tutorial and then Woman's Choral (which is choir), and those afternoons I have zumba class (which is sooo much fun!)

Anyway, things are getting so much better. I mean, I act all in-control, calm, and collected around my friends, but on the inside I'm a chaotic whirlwind of emotions and self-doubts. Does anyone else get that way? But anyway, I'm finally getting a normal day-to-day schedule working and my friends are all different, but all really sweet and loyal, like they have my back and I have theirs type of thing.

Well, I'm going home next-next weekend (the 20th - 22nd), and my family is really excited. Apparently my little bro misses me a lot, though he would never admit it. My dad told me hahah

But anyway! Sorry for the ramble! Classes start soon so I'll get a head start on this chapter.

(it's a pretty dark chapter)

...

Raziele POV

...

A dream.

This had to be a dream.

A dream so gentle that is was cruel.

"Mom!" little Raziele shouted, a smile on his face that shone brighter than the sun against the sapphire sky. A woman turned; she was standing in the kitchen, a bowl of warm broth in her arms, and she smiled.

"Look at you," she chastised, kneeling down to his level. She used the hem of her long dress to wipe off Raziele's face. The hybrid made a noise of protest and turned away, but his mother would have none of that. "Did you jump in the mud again?" she asked.

Raziele made a face. "NO," he stated, puckering his lower lip. "It jumped up and GRABBED me. Like this!" he said and, with a laugh, jumped up and wrapped his arms around his mother's neck. She made a faint noise of surprise and almost dropped the bowl, but then she laughed and turned her head to kiss him on the cheek.

"Go get cleaned up," she told him. "Remember, tomorrow is your - "

Then the dream changed.

Raziele's eyes widened as his mother's warm hand suddenly paled, the veins a dark patchwork beneath the thin skin. Her grip spasmed against Raziele's small hand as she continued to smile, but her teeth weren't all there and blood dribbled from her chin. He cried out and tried to pull away, but his mother held him firm as she peered to him from sunken, milky eyes.

"What are you?" she whispered. Raziele winced as her grip snapped the small bones of his hands. "What sort of creature are you? Where's my baby, my perfect baby?"

"Mom!" Raziele shouted, his small heart a wild thing in his chest. Tears budded in his rosy eyes. "Mom, it's me! Raziele!"

Her hand spasmed again and he cried out from the sudden biting pain as bone ground against bone. "No!" his mother screamed. Blood flew from her mouth mid-cry and Raziele flinched when the tiny beads struck his skin. They burned like a brand. "Where's my perfect son! My baby! What have you done with my baby?!"

Raziele opened his mouth, but the only sound that came out was breathless whimpers as his mother arched her back and screamed, screamed damnation to the skies above . . .

"Raziele!"

Raziele gasped and his rosy eyes flung open. His pink hair was a mess on his head, and his skin felt clammy and cold. The covers were a mess about him, tangled and hot from struggling in his sleep.

A candle flickered in the corner, and for a moment, Raziele thought that he was back in isolation. But then he realized that the air didn't taste like blood and iron, and that the walls seemed dry. Most importantly, there were no longer and chains around his wrists or ankles.

He slowly turned his head; there was a girl sitting on a chair beside the bed he laid in, her short silver hair framed about her face, her violet eyes luminous while the other was hidden behind an eye patch. She was watching him with an impassive expression, but Raziele could see how her thin hands were clenched on the white bed sheets. However, everything seemed blurrily, as if he was looking through a dirty window.

"Y -you're the . . ." Raziele began, forcing his shaky arms to haul himself up, but suddenly his vision darkened and swam. Moments later a cold hand pushed down on his chest, pushed him back down on the bed.

"You were hurt," the demon-girl whispered. "I found you in the hallway."

Hallway? Raziele blinked in confusion; that word didn't make any sense. What hallway? When? When did she -

- and suddenly everything snapped into place. Satan hitting Rin. Satan laughing, cackling towards the sky, Satan suddenly whipping around and crushing his chest with a single blow as propelled him backward from the sheer force of it. Raziele had been unconscious before he had even hit the wall.

Raziele forced himself up, ignoring the screaming protests of his limbs. They shook from the strain and he gasped when he felt the tendons holding his ribcage together stretch and pull his bones back into place. The demon-girl reached forward to push him back down, but a single glare from Raziele froze her hand.

This wasn't the quick-to-smile human side of Raziele, the Raziele that loved to joke around and eat apples in secret.

This was Raziele the demon.

And he was pissed.

"Where am I?" he demanded.

The demon-girl didn't even blink. "My room."

My . . . Raziele looked around one last time. It was even worse than his room; dark, dreary, with a single worn rug on the floor that looked as if it had been dragged from the bottom of the trash heap. The only other furniture was a bed and a pale in the corner.

Raziele turned his lethal, rosy gaze back to the demon. "Why did you help me?" he asked.

At that, the girl suddenly seemed uncomfortable. Finally she murmured, her voice holding a tinge of emotion, "You know Young Lord Rin."

Raziele blinked. Rin? She saved him just because he knew Rin? But that didn't make any sense; no demon would willing help another just for the hell of it. There had to be something else, something . . .

The girl suddenly stood. "I must go," she stated, and then turned away, but Raziele reached out and grabbed her wrist before he knew what he was doing. She froze and turned, eyes wide and scared.

"You didn't tell me - " Raziele's breath fluttered in his fragile lungs, " - what your name was."

The girl's eyes widened further. "Name?"

Raziele nodded. "Name. Wh - what's your name?" He could feel his conscious slipping again, almost like he was swimming through the lake back home. Each breath tired him, each breath sunk him a little further beneath the dark waves. His hand trembled around the demon-girl's thin wrist.

She averted her eyes, clearly uncomfortable with the contact. "I am called 8265734."

Raziele blinked in surprise and then laughed slightly; he couldn't help it. "That's not a name," he whispered. "That's a number."

"Then I have no name," she stated. The resignation in her voice chilled and broke his heart, even though he knew that it was shattered beyond healing point.

Raziele dropped his arm. "Then your name is . . . Sophiel."

Scarlet lightly kissed the demon-girl's - now Sophiel - cheeks. "Soh-phi-el," she whispered, testing her new name. "Sophiel."

Raziele faintly smiled as he leaned back onto the bed; the room seemed to dark now and his body so light, so impossibly light, as if he could float away. "That was my mother's name," he murmured. If he was in his right mind, he would never had admitted that. Never would have even mentioned it. "She was . . . always helping everyone . . . and I guess you do . . ." his eyelashes fluttered closed, " . . . too."

Sophiel was speechless. No one had ever been nice to her - besides Rin, of course - but now she had a name. A true name, not an ID number based on when she had been breeded. A true name, and she didn't know what to say. Thankfully she didn't have to; Raziele had already fallen asleep.

...

Rin POV

...

Rin opened his eyes and hoped, for the fifth time today, that he was dead.

Unfortunately, he wasn't. A foot suddenly slammed down on his chest, breaking the ribs that punctured his lungs. Rin opened his mouth but didn't have enough breath to scream and didn't even have the energy to move. His right arm had been broken in three different places, the hand a little more than useless ligament on the end of his wrist. His left knee was bent forward and lay on the ground at an awkward angle, his left arm was simply gone, cut cleanly through by a blade. Blood had dried on his hair and skin, dying them a dull brick red.

"Get up," Satan hissed, kicking Rin to the side. Rin didn't make a sound - he learned not to do that early on - as he tried to rise with blind desperation. He knew what would happen if he didn't, and there were worse things than death.

Three days.

Three days.

Three days and Rin already wanted to die.

A sudden blow to the side of his head made him see stars and, once again, he hit the ground. His shoulder creaked and screamed in agony from the force, and fresh, warm blood added another layer to the dried red that was already on his face.

Satan had brought it upon himself to train Rin to use a sword and flame. However, there were no lessons; it was either do or die be tortured to the brink of death. If Rin did something wrong, anything wrong - look at Satan the wrong way, walk the wrong way, breath the wrong way, run the wrong way - and Satan beat him into the ground and made sure that he left a dent.

Rin flicked his sapphire eyes to Satan, standing over him. Sweat stung his eyes and made the dirt and his clothes stick to him like a second skin. His breath was a dry rasp due to dehydration; Satan believed that motivation stemmed from starvation, and it was now the law Rin lived by. If he wants to eat, he better win . . . but he was quickly learning that he couldn't win against Satan. Not like this.

Maybe malnutrition would kill him off.

Rin ground his teeth together and Satan pulled him up by his shirt. The King of Hell's clothes, dark and reinforced with silver, was speckled with blood. Rin's blood. However, his face was clean and his blue eyes as hard as marbles.

Rin glared at Satan, eye to eye. "Go fuck yourself," he hissed.

Satan's thin lips quirked in a smile, but suddenly his expression darkened. Dread blossomed in Rin's stomach right before he was thrown against the ground. Dust clouded the air as his bones, struggling to heal, broke and snapped again.

Welcome to hell, Hades had said.

Welcome to hell.

Longer chapter today. Raziele is alive, you guys! And this was just a teaser-introduction of Rin's training on hell. Time for him to be a weapon.

Anyway, since I haven't done this in a while, comments time! :D

Ytwolfpup: I looooove SnK! I got up to episode 22 and now I'm dying because episode 23 isn't out! D: It made me incredibly sad. And thank you! Love you too, you amazing person you!

Hartanna: Naaaah I'm just messing with you guys xD Raziele's alive, as you read.

werewolf120: I don't do yuri and definitely not three-way love thing, sorry. And as for your other idea, you're just gonna hafta see what happens! :)

InsaniumArtisan: IF YOU DON'T READ ATTACK ON TITAN, YOU MUST. MUST. IT IS SO AMAZING!

Dowgma: Thank you!

hana-kitzu: and thank you too! :D

Edwenlas: no worries! and I'm sure that your fanfic will be amazing! :)

Continue staying awesome (and thanks for all the good-lucks for college! :D)

-Rand0mSmil3z

(By the way, I finally figured out what I'm going to do with my biology major. Forensic science? Oh yes.)