"Okay. I can explain."

I hung from the rafters by what seemed like a thread. One leg was wrapped around a thick beam, but that didn't stop my uniform from digging furrows into my side from the awkward position. It was stuck on a nail to the side, and I wasn't sure how long it would hold. The ground was awfully far away, and I really didn't want to become pudding.

Even from his doggy face, I could tell Kanda wasn't exactly happy about my current predicament.

"I came up and there was some funky looking dust, and I thought it might be some sort of clue and... a mouse scared me and I fell over," I croaked.

I was getting kind of light-headed. How long had I been upside down? Five minutes? Seven? My hair swung under me in a massive cloud of dusty brown frizz, and I licked my chapped lips. I could just barely see Kanda now as he paced ten feet underneath me. At the moment I was a little proud of myself. Normally I'd be freaking out.

Okay, on the inside I was freaking out. My heart was having a riot in my chest cavity and my stomach was trying to climb out of my mouth. But I wasn't about to let Kanda know that.

"Funky dust."

"Yeah."

"And... a mouse."

"Uh... yeah."

"You're pathetic. I don't even know how you got up there."

"That piano over there is surprisingly sturdy."

Suddenly, he started walking away. My eyes probably popped out of my head. I scrambled my hands towards the rafter now that what would've potentially broken my fall was walking away from me, but my arms weren't long enough.

"W-wait a second, where are you going?!"

"You got up there by yourself. You can get back down," he growled.

"But, I... Fine. A back scratch!"

I was well-versed in the art of bribery. My siblings weresome of the hardest hagglers I knew. I once got a secret out of Lily by buying her three bottles of perfume, a few rose seeds and a good amount of lemon juice. Don't ask about the lemon juice.

Now, Kanda was almost incorruptible. Almost. Everybody has their weakness. Mine was chocolate. Lavi's was good ink bottles. Bookman's was tobacco and tea.

Kanda's was back scratches and good Asian restaurants.

He stopped for a moment, his tail betraying his excitement, wagging a little. He continued walking after a pause. I rolled my eyes. I'd have to up my bid.

"Two back scratches. And an ear scratch."

His ears perked up. I was getting a little closer. He was trying to fight temptation, but he wasn't used to being given this sort of opportunity. My discovery from three nights ago was giving me an edge.

I waved a hand at him, letting it dangle. For the love of Peter, my head felt like it was about to pop off. He had better hurry up and give in. I'm pretty sure this position was neither natural nor healthy. I was going to leak blood out of my ears before long.

"Two back scratches, an ear scratch, and I'll show you that Japanese restaurant I found in Boston," I finally caved.

I'd been hoping to keep that as an ace in the hole on the off chance that we ever went back to having Torture Tuesdays, but it seemed like Kanda had spread out the torture evenly to all seven days of the week. At the very least, I would've used it against him if he'd wanted me to do the fifty-foot-pole trick again. Of all our exercise, that one made me want to tear my head off and bury myself alive.

He turned around haughtily, taking his sweet time to get to me. He was gloating, and I knew it.

Still, it didn't matter to me. I could deal with any manner of humiliation. What I couldn't deal with is the pounding in my ears and the blood practically fighting its way out of my nose from being hung upside down. Kanda sat down under me, too far out of my vision for me to see him.

"What else?"

"What do you mean, what else?" I asked.

What else could he want? My voice was getting to be strangled from the force of gravity. The top of my head was going to come off before I either fell or Kanda somehow unstuck me.

"Hair ties."

Oh. Those.

I thought about the cache of hair ties that happened to be in my hotel room in a special baggie. He kept leaving them. Kind of.I mean, they were just sitting on our hotel counter and I'd... borrowed some. And then I forgot to give them back. I was just...holding on to them for him. That was my standard argument in case he ever found out, but it looked like he'd already known. I'm a little surprised he didn't just put me at sword-point and demand them back.

"Fine. I'll give them back to you."

I decided to take a page out of Violet's book. He didn't say how many I had to give back.

"All of them?"

Well, there went that plan.

I contemplated this offer just as I heard a sharp ripping noise. I suddenly fell backwards into the air, and I didn't even have enough time to scream. My fall was broken by two furry arms, and I stared right into Kanda's face. He looked just as surprised as I did. I honestly expected to end up with a broken back or a punctured lung. This was a pleasant alternative.

I must have been up there too long if I thought being held by the dog man was better than a broken back. I hoped there wasn't any permanent brain damage. Who knows what sorts of things I'll like?

His surprised facial expression turned to one of sternness.

"The deal still applies," he said.

I went limp in defiance as I groaned. He dropped me, and the floor knocked the wind out of me. I coughed as I rolled on to my side. Why didn't he warn me first? Wait, this is Grouch face I'm talking about. It'd be strange if he did warn me first. I really was up there too long.

I felt like I was just stepped on by a giant toddler. I heaved myself off the ground, dusting myself off as I looked around the music room for anything else I might have lost.

I heard Kanda growl suddenly, and I whirled around towards the source of the noise. Both disks were in my hands, ready to go.

Of course, it was Charles. It was all too possible he might have wet himself just now. He skirted around Kanda, who continued to glare at him mercilessly before disappearing into the hallway. Charles collapsed into a rickety chair with a relieved sigh, scratching his brownish-blond hair. Poor guy couldn't catch a break. Kanda was ruthless. It was like he could smell fear. I would know.

In his hands, Charles held the journal we'd found. It was in slightly better condition now that we'd dried it out and retraced some of the words with a pen.

"He's not the happiest person on the planet," I said, putting the deactivated bracelets back on.

Charles gave me a pleadingly incredulous look before flipping through the journal. I sat down next to him in a wicker chair that looked like it might fall apart any second. It was being held together by hope and strands of reed the size of a shoe lace.

"Did you and Lavi find anything?" I asked seriously.

I had this sort of mother instinct towards Charles. He was the type of guy who just looked worried and vulnerable all the time. He was sort of puppyish. It didn't help that Kanda bullied him like the guy had done him personal injury. Charles had been terrified of Kanda as a human, and he was in even worse shape with Kanda as a dog. It was as if Satan had combined his two worst fears. Now, as for me, if you'd mixed Kanda with a spider...

"Dust, cobwebs, and some of zese t'orns, but zat is all we have found," Charles said, handing me a thorn the length of my middle finger.

"Definitely an Akuma around," I said, trying to sound brave. My voice wasn't interested in pretenses though; it squeaked through half the sentence.

Charles patted my shoulder sympathetically. My bid for bravery and valor obviously fell flat. I hung my head, a storm cloud practically raining down on me as I thought about the implications the single thorn gave me. Why me? Why us? Why, why, why? Why couldn't it be something like, oh, I dunno, a bear or a pack of wolves or something like that? Bears and wolves I can see and hear. Akuma were the silent type, when they weren't giggling.

All of a sudden a shiver ran down my back, and my paranoia flared. I surreptitiously looked around, wondering if it was somewhere in the house, watching us. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I pocketed the thorn, careful not to cut myself. Horror scenarios of being fileted alive began intruding inmy mental theater in increasingly gory, overly dramatic ways.

"Have you looked outside?" I asked wearily, trying to distract myself.

Sleeping on that pile of curtains was not an acceptable substitute for a feather bed. Kanda dropping me on my back only added to the spinal problems that ailed me. I stretched out in the hopes of popping all my vertebrae back in place, but all I accomplished was figuring out exactly where I was in pain. Luckily, I hadn't messed with my prior injuries, and the drop hadn't re-broken my ribs, though they felt like someone had smashed a hammer into them.

"No, none of us have looked outside," Charles sighed, looking out the window with an apprehensive look. The grounds were overflowing with weeds and shrubberies. It resembled a jungle more than a garden. It was going to take a mean pair of shears, a lucky horseshoe, and a lot of prayer to find anything in that mess.

I stood up and looked towards the rafters.

The dust I'd seen looked more like spores than dust. It was gold and shiny, almost metallic, like someone had sprinkled golden beebees the size of salt , the mouse had stopped my impromptu search and seizure. I did not enjoy having small furry feet scramble across my ankles and I'd scream on a good day. This wasn't a good day. My response was a little more dramatic.

"Well, it doesn't look like we'll find anything good in here. Was there something you needed to tell me before you go and change your underwear?" I asked nonchalantly.

Charles thought about it, looking confused.

"Well, I found some- hey!"

I smiled as he (very indignantly) caught on to my little joke. He 'hmphed' loudly.

"I have deziphered more of ze text," Charles said, holding up the book like it was some sort of artifact from a bygone time.

I raised an eyebrow at his grandiose use of 'deciphered'. If by 'deciphered' he meant 'read and translated a child's scrawl of really bad French', then yes, I would have to say deciphered would be a good word.

Charles ignored my dubious 'mother' stare, and he cracked open the book.

" 'Today Eugenia and I went to the park. It was a lot of fun. I was the Beast and Eugenia was ze pretty girl. Eugenia hurt herself when she climbed up a tree. Now Eugenia is sick and I am sad.' I zink it was the manse owner's child who wrote zis, from what else I have read. She had a strange fixazion on ze story 'Le Belle et la Bete,'" Charles explained, closing the book gingerly. He pointed to the walls and their friezes, and I had to agree with that sentiment considering the amount of 'Beauty And The Beast' artwork that had survived the mold takeover.

For the past few days, we'd been casing out the manse in the hopes of finding a way to trap the Akuma. So far, all we'd managed wasto gross ourselves out by the disgusting amount of mold that had managed to flower inside the walls and the other bathrooms. Lavi gagged, and he has no mouth. I headed for the hills and decided to rethink my life choices. Kanda puked.

I guess one of the worst things about being a dog hybrid is the sensitive nose. I'm glad I didn't eat that bean casserole while we were in Boston, because that would have only added to the awkwardness.

"I kind of already figured that -"

"MAGGIE!"

Charles and I didn't need to confer with each other to reach an executive decision. I ran down the hallway, dodging the masses of destroyed and decaying wood, wallpaper, and furniture. Soon, I was in the anteroom off of the main living room. It suddenly occurred to me that I'd instinctively followed the voice rather than running from potential danger, and I once again rethought my career choice. The on-the-job training could be killer.

Of course, it wasn't exactly my choice, but it was either this or... No, there really wasn't a choice. I didn't have an alternative.

"What? What's the matter?!" I shouted. I didn't see anybody, just the decadent opulence of an unfortunate rich man. Of course for such a miserable guy, he sure did know how to live. His kitchen was still completely stocked, right down to the smelly cheese. We'd been picking on what was still edible, which was actually quite a lot. Apparently there hadn't been time to move out of the house, and their loss was our gain. I hadn't eaten genoa salami that good since-

"Over here," Bookman growled.

My eyes traveled upwards warily, following his voice, and my stomach immediately put several complaints in the suggestion box, chief of which happened to be "Are you an idiot? What are you doing?". I swallowed, my mouth suddenly as dry as my grandmother's beef roast.

"Um... I don't know if you expect me to get that down or not," I said to the clock dangling from the chandelier, Lavi sitting on a separate arm.

My eyes, however, were glued to the corpse sprawled across the arms like a king sitting in a rather unorthodox throne. It's skin was the consistency of badly tanned leather, and the clothing was a telltale style nearly fifty years too old for the present day. Stretched out across its frame was a very old, yellowed dress that may have once been white. It's face was nothing more than a skull, the lips long dried back from the teeth. Its hair somehow still stuck to the scalp, albeit in strips of blackish gray.

"I wouldn't want you to. I don't trust your strength," Bookman offered, swinging his way to the ground on what appeared to be a very thin fishing line. Somehow, the old man could manage grace while climbing off a scaffold for a mummy. Not only that, he did it as a block of wood. I was impressed to say the least.

Not so impressed with the honesty, though. I squeezed a bicep with a little bit of shame. No, there really wasn't much there...

Suddenly, I started to gag as it fully hit me that I was in a room with a dead human body. I resisted the urge to throw up. The smell finally wafted down to me, and I could no longer ignore the disgust my stomach kept expressing. I ran off in a corner, and I lost my breakfast. Genoa salami does not taste good the second time around.

"That... is repulsive," I gasped, wiping my mouth and looking back at the mummy. It was like a wagon crash. You couldn't look away, no matter how much you wanted to. I mean, it usually happens at only five miles an hour, but it still turns into a horrific mess of oxen and angry men. I shivered as Bookman toddled towards me on his peg legs.

"The approximate time of death is twenty years," Bookman said.

"About the same time the house was abandoned," Lavi spelled out for me. I looked down at him, seeing as he'd managed to get off the chandelier.

"Thanks for basically telling me I can't do math," I quipped at him, half-heartedly swinging a foot in his direction. He lithely bounced out of the way.

"My pleasure," he said back with what I knew was one of his trademark grins.

I crossed my arms and looked at the corpse. Obviously the person was very dead and the body had seen better days, but something about it struck me as odd. Besides, you know, it being mummified, sitting in a chandelier, in a house that was possibly possessed by a demon.

"Is it... male or female?" I asked, frowning.

Something tugged at my memory and my obsessive compulsion with neatness and the way things were supposed to be was flaring, though that wasn't a surprise considering the fact there was a corpse hanging off a chandelier. If that's normal, I don't want to know what's weird.

"I had assumed it to be female, but you pose a good point. What makes you think otherwise?" Bookman asked, his voice creaking as he stared up at the body.

"The shoulders... it's stretching the dress. Also, the face is awfully thick. Of course, it's very decomposed," I said, gagging on the last word as a waft of stench drifted in my direction on a draft. I put a hand over my mouth and nose, trying hard to ignore it.

"Yeah... the feet are a lot bigger, too," Lavi noted, "Now that you mention it. I mean, I only got a look from up there."

"Idiot apprentice. Consider all angles."

"Hey! You missed it too, old man!"

"I can be excused in my old age. I had not had time to examine the body thoroughly."

"Why are you blaming me, then?!"

"Because you're the idiot apprentice. It is obviously your fault."

I rolled my eyes at the bickering going on, and I walked directly underneath the corpse. I winced as I saw... well, to put it lightly, right up the dress. Definitely male. I averted my eyes, slapping a hand over them. Why did I do that?

"Um, I think this is a little more indicative to gender," I said, pointing upwards. The two mantle ornaments stopped their bickering to follow my finger and go, "Oooooh."

"..."

"..."

"I think I might puke," Lavi said, suddenly sounding sick.

"I don't see why. Yours don't look much better, and you see them every day," Bookman muttered, and I felt heat rise to my face.

Men seem to have this predisposition on talking about the size and condition of their specific organs. My brothers seemed to have a daily contest about who was more prodigious. It took a comment from Violet about peanuts to shame them to quietude.

"Hey! Those are closer to your condition-"

"Ooookay, it's time to change the subject. What does the note say?" I asked, pointing up to the note in order to stop them from mortifying me. I almost wanted to join Mr. Cross-dresser up there where I couldn't hear them. My ears were still virgin, even if the rest of me wasn't.

"What are you idiots doing?" Kanda growled, skulking into the room like a thundercloud, as per usual. He stopped dead in front of the corpse, twitched his nose and left to go and eat some grass. I could swear his fur turned green.

"Want to help me autopsy the corpse?!" I shouted to him, hearing gagging noises outside the front door.

"Wait... that corpse obviously wasn't there when we got here three days ago," Lavi said.

"You have stated the obvious," Bookman grumbled, folding his wooden arms.

I had to agree with him. Even I can't miss a body sitting in a chandelier. While they were having their spitting match, I activated a disk and started to try and get the note down.

"Which means that it was recently moved and must have still been in the house."

"Observant. I had thought the same thing. And we were working in this room in the past thirty minutes."

The note finally fluttered down gently after I managed to hit one of the arms of the chandelier. I caught the note with a triumphant 'aha!'. I heard a creaking noise above me, and I frowned as I felt impending doom hover over me. I was very suddenly flattened by a corpse falling from nearly twenty feet in the air, and I lay on the ground in horror, too scared to move. Oh... dear... lord in heaven above.

"So it's quiet. Very quiet. We need to stay on our toes."

"Uh... guys? Help?" I squeaked, trying to avoid grimy, gross, disgusting, decayed, decomposing human flesh.

Both of them finally noticed me and began to tug off the corpse, but they weren't doing much. Finally, I couldn't take it, and I shrugged it off to the side, shivering and trying to brush off fragments of... things. I was going to throw up. I was going to send Komui my resignation and I was going to throw up. That was exactly what I was going to do. I'd already thrown up already, but it didn't matter because I'd just touched a dead body! Decaying. Dead. Human. Body.

"I need bleach! I need arsenic, I need lye, oh dear Lord in Heaven have mercy upon my poor soul..."

"Huh, nice. You didn't even scratch it. Nice work," Lavi complimented.

I hopped from foot to foot, not proud of that achievement as I tore off my Exorcist jacket. I'd clean it later. With bleach. Lots and lots of bleach. Maybe tear off my skin and add it to the bleach. Add some lye. Give it a good soak for about a month. I can walk around without skin, right?

"Disgusting... slimy... nasty...," I complained, shivering. It was in my hair; I could feel it. Like everything else, it had mold on it. I'd need to bleach my hair too. Forget bleaching- I'd shave myself bald.

"Go and get yourself some fresh air. We'll examine this ourselves," Bookman said, shooing me off.

I didn't need to be told twice. I immediately walked out the front door, and I almost tripped on Kanda who was lying next to the front door looking sicker than I felt. He looked up at me, widened his eyes, and quickly slunk off.

"You stink," Kanda gagged, leaning over the railing of a balcony and coughing.

I rolled my eyes. Drama queen. Even I got over it eventually, as long as I didn't think about it too hard.

Oh, but of course I just thought about it. Bleach, lye, arsenic, baldness, skinning, naked, nasty...

"Yeah, yeah, I know. That'll happen when you have a corpse surprise attack you," I quipped. He looked at me drily.

"Only you have reflexes bad enough a corpse could surprise you," he growled.

So I walked into that one. I ran a hand through my hair and immediately thought better of it when I felt something vaguely wet smear a finger. I shook out my hand and made a face. I could never look at my hair the same ever again. Definitely shaving it off.

I still had the note in hand and I opened it.

"What's that?" Kanda asked, slinking over to me.

I looked up at him, and I was surprise to see just how far his condition had worsened. His back was more hunched and he seemed to be in more pain. He would never admit it, but I could see it in the way he walked so stiffly. I was used to dealing with teenage boys who were too proud to tell Big Sister they were hurt.

I had Sebastian try and hide a broken arm from me. Good thing he wasn't smart enough to keep it hidden.

"A note from the Akuma. Why don't you sit?" I asked, motioning to one of the wicker chairs on the balcony. There was a 'deck' of sorts on the front of the house that sat atop the stairs leading to the front door. Kanda wordlessly put himself in one, leaning his back into it and sighing through his snout.

"It's intelligent. It can still write," Kanda rumbled.

I skimmed the note, half-listening. "What makes you say that?"

"The Akuma's personality tends to deteriorate the older and higher in level it is. If it can still write, it's retained a lot of human personality. We say that Akuma are indistinguishable from humans, but there are subtle signs. That's why Levels 3 and 4 aren't ever in their human form. They don't act like humans any more," Kanda said, giving me a short lesson. It was probably the most I'd heard him talk in three days.

I wandered over to him and I started to scratch behind his ears as I read the scrawled handwriting. It was very clumsy, as if a child had written it.

"Little to the left... go down... Wait, what do you think you're doing?" Kanda snapped, leaning away from me.

I raised my eyebrows wryly. "The deal still applies. Remember?"

He considered this and slowly sat back into his chair. I resumed my scratching and he tried to hide his pleasure, though I could see his tail twitch now and again. Good thing this seat had a hole in the back. We'd found out it was a little difficult for Kanda to sit considering the tail was connected to his backbone, and most chairs weren't made with tails in mind. I scratched a little harder, and his leg twitched.

"It says... we're invited to a ball... and I'm supposed to wear that dress," I said, looking back through the front door. I winced, thinking about the faded dress and its horrific occupant. There was no way in heaven or hell I was wearing that dress- at least, not without peeling my skin off afterwards. I was already thinking about doing that and I'd only touched the dead guy.

"Good luck with that," Kanda sighed, leaning back into the hand scratching his ears.

"It also says that... if we refuse to be willing guests, we'll have to be escorted. We have thirty minutes to respond," I emphasized.

The words were a little less eloquent than that, but it summed up the request better than the mash of words on the little card. A few grains of sand (golden beebees?) dripped from the card as I unfolded another piece of paper, this one a map of the house. A room at the top was circled, one of the few places we had yet to check in the manse. I'd guessed that it was the library.

"How long ago did you find that corpse?" Kanda asked, a curious tone to his voice.

"Maybe five, ten minutes ago," I said, reading over the note again.

"When was the corpse dropped off?" Kanda asked, again that weird tone.

"Bookman said about... thirty minutes... ago..." I said slowly, catching on to what he meant.

This wasn't a rational human being. If anything, it was the soul of a dead child, which only made things worse. I looked back into the front room, and that's when I smelt it. Something sweet, almost sickly sweet.

The twins had gassed me I didn't know how many times. I'd recently regained my sense of smell, which was both a blessing and a curse. I was only too aware of what this smell was.

"Run!" I shouted at Kanda, yanking him by the ear and dragged us to the stairs. He yelped a little, finally catching up.

"What are you doing?" Kanda hissed as we ran down the stairs two at a time.

"Sleeping gas. Those spores- they turned you into a dog, Lavi and Bookmen into mantle ornaments, and everybody else into a cleaning item! If it can do that, I can bet it can put people to sleep, too!" I explained, amazed I could speak and run at the same time.

And then, suddenly, my mommy instinct kicked in. Halfway down the driveway, I stopped, my eyes wide, and I looked back as dread pooled in my stomach like blood out of an open wound. My heart hammered in my chest as Kanda ran past me a little ways. It was dead silent, all noise sucked up in the jungle of the grounds.

"The boys," I breathed. Kanda and I shared a look, with me standing sideways between freedom and the manse. I flickered my eyes back to the manse for all of a second.

I had a decision to make. I could abandon them and save our skins, which would be the smart thing to do, or I could go back and do what the letter demanded, which was the idiot thing to do. Neither option had a good outcome for me. One would probably have me hanging from a rafter by a rope, using my feet as a compass needle, and the other would mean a horrific, painful, no doubt slow, death.

"Maggie-" Kanda started, but it was too late. I ran back towards the house.

You told me not to ever give up. Well, I'm not going to give up. Not on anyone.


Sounds of dripping water... on tile because it's cold...

Where... where was I?

Soft shhhhshhhhshhh of slithering...clink of silverware...heavy breathing...

I... remember running to the manse... tearing the dress off the corpse. Thinking about boiling... tearing off skin...

Something groaning, wood, and then squeaking of chairs. Music, soft and tinkling...

I squeezed my eyelids tight... It was... dark... and something heavy... on my lap...

Whisper hush hush of sliding... smell of old paper, wet paper... cold tile underneath...

I opened my eyes slowly, almost afraid.

It was about fifteen feet long, from flower hair to the long cord of roots at the end. A face was carved of wood, serene, womanly. Crude hands made of thorns and weaving stems set up a table set for two. A skeletal thin body supported the head with its flower-bud bun, and vicious thorns poked from her had no legs, just roots that seemed to die off and move at an amazing pace, rooting into the house. In an odd way, she was beautiful.

Of course, that wasn't going to stop me from hacking her into tiny, itty bitty pieces, but at least this Akuma wasn't as scary as the others I'd had to fight.

My head felt fuzzy, probably from the drug, and it was like every thought I tried to string together immediately shot apart at the mere glance of attention. I was having a hard time putting my thoughts into words, considering those words looked a lot like alphabet soup. It took me what must've been hours to realize I could move freely, though I was bound by plant branches.

That brought to mind the sick idea that I was being held down with Akuma body parts, and I put on my to-do checklist for when I got home "Bathe in alcohol", along with "scrub off your skin", "bleach your uniform white", and "shave yourself bald". Speaking of my hair, I realized it was crudely pinned up into a mess. Of course, Akuma weren't known for their hairstyling prowess, and it occurred to me that she could've ended my life easily enough, considering those nasty looking claws.

I looked down atmy lap and I sucked in a sharp breath. Kanda's head lay in my lap and he was wide awake. He looked up at me pleadingly, and I realized that he'd been shackled with the same plant fibers I was stuck with, laying [change to 'lying'] perpendicular to me. He was dressed in this horrible suit that made him look like a manly sausage in a skin two sizes too small. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and I realized he was in a lot of pain. The spell was fighting the binding effects of the Akuma's ability, but in doing so it was slowly destroying his body and tearing it apart. I bit my lip, knowing he was too proud to admit his pain.

Idiot. It'd probably make him feel better if he just cussed himself blue in the face.

I laid a hand on his back and it may have been my imagination, but I think he relaxed just that much more. I looked around surreptitiously, hanging my head like I was still asleep. We were in a library, that was for certain. Book upon book, upon book, upon pamphlet, upon atlas, upon scroll was piled up in this tall room with scattered shelves on the walls and surrounding us. It was eerily dark, the only light a giant chandelier hanging above us. The floor was tiled, and it was scattered with rotting, moldy paper. I tried not to shift away from a stack right next to my feet, but my paranoia at catching some sort of fungal disease was getting to be really strong.

On several overturned shelves, I could see 'audiences' of various plates, cups, broomsticks, brushes, and other household items. It took me a little bit to locate Bookman and Lavi, and I suddenly felt fear constrict my heart as I realized I couldn't find Charles. I felt awfully responsible for the poor Finder and if he'd been killed...

I tried to swallow tears. There was a chance that he wasn't dead. And maybe he'd just been turned into another household object?

"Good evening," a hushed, French voice whispered in front of me, and I looked up into the face of the Akuma. Holy-!

I shrieked, trying to squirm backwards, but all she did was stare at me with that wooden look.

Literal wooden look. It was disconcerting.

"They should put a bell on you," I muttered under my breath, trying to regain my composure.

The Akuma slithered around, nearly silent, examining the both of us. I could only imagine what sort of creepy fantasies were going in her headand none of them were pretty. I could only hope this fixation on animal-human relations happened after her transformation, and not before.

Suddenly, Kanda's restraints were loosed, and he immediately sprang towards the Akuma, teeth bared and ready to take her down with nothing but tooth and claw. Good on him- I was going to wait until I had a plan of action, but he could buy time.

That was until I had a long tendril snap around my neck.

I started to choke, my vision turning fuzzy and black. I tried to reach up and tear it off, but my hands were restrained,tightened with the same dead man's hold. I could hear the Akuma speaking and Kanda growling. Just barely, I could make out Kanda holding a piece of the Akuma in his teeth, a root tendril.

"Maggie... Maggie, what is she saying?!" Kanda asked, his voice low and menacing, though oddly comical seeing as he was talking around a piece of what amounted to being the Akuma's foot.

I could hardly hear him over the sound of blood rushing into my ears. The pressure began to abate, but I felt something slick and sharp press to a vein in my neck. I tried desperately to suppress the urge to swallow. I might tear out my own neck.

"Tell him that if he doesn't play with me, I'll kill you," the Akuma commanded peevishly.

I deliberated ontelling him that. On the one hand, he might just attack heranyways and condemn me to a quick, but painful, death. If he cooperated (which I doubted), we'd still end up the playmates (or pawns, more like) of a sadistic demon child. Neither sounded like fun.

"She says... if you don't play with her, she'll kill me. I don't want to die. Okay, the last part is my own thought. She didn't say that," I iterated, throwing in the last part with an emphatic expression.

Kanda deliberated, looking between the two of us.

Please put down the root. Please put down the root. For the love of God, you shouldn't have Akuma flesh in your mouth as it is.

Much to my pleasant surprise, he let go of the root. The tendril slowly slithered off my neck, and the bonds around my hands withered. I could move freely now and I slowly got up, noticing I wasn't wearing my wristbands. The Akuma moved to the table, which was stocked with a variety of moulderingfoods. She was still serene, willowy, graceful, and I just realized in that moment that an undead demon was prettier than me. I felt sufficiently miffed and a little outdone.

"Please, sit, dine. Be my guest," the Akuma said, sitting in a chair farther off to watch.

"What did she say?" Kanda muttered.

"She said we should sit and eat."

"She's kidding."

"Hey, I just say what she tells me to."

We exchanged looks as we took our places at the table. The Akuma made a gesture, and Lavi suddenly jumped off the audience rack to the table.

"Mademoiselle, Monsieur, I'd like to welcome you to this lovely evening of grandeur, fear, and delusion," Lavi muttered to us as he began to pour wine that looked like it might still be somewhat palatable. Too bad I don't drink wine...

I was impressed with Lavi's abilities to manhandle a bottle in his state, though.

"What do we do?" I muttered to Kanda as I played with the food. "Where are our Innocence?"

I tried to forget the fact that little flecks of skin were stuck to my dress and falling in the food, though luckily I had my uniform between me and the dress. Still, it was driving me crazy. What would Lily think? She'd be appalled at the abuse to an old dress.

"Well, you know, every cloud has a silver lining," Lavi mentioned, looking up conspiratorially. Kanda and I momentarily looked up, and the glint of a sword sheath shone from the chandelier, as well as the shine of my bangles. In fact, it looked like there were several different items hung on the chandelier. A trophy room of some sort?

"Great. Now what?" I sighed, staring into what I think was supposed to be pasta but looked more like dog vomit left to ruminate in the sun in an outhouse.

"Stall," Lavi suggested. "Bookman and I will figure out how to get your things."

"Charles?" I asked.

"Alive. He's a broomstick."

Well. That made me feel marginally better. At least one of us was somewhat comfortable. He was thin and blond anyways.

"Look, how do we stall a mad Akuma who's got her mind stuck on some fairytale?" Kanda hissed across the table, reaching for the basket of rolls that may have been fresh the day Adam was born.

"Easy. Dance," Lavi suggested, hopping off the table.

The two of us looked at each other in mortification. Desperate times apparently call for desperate measures.


A/N: I'm back, after quite a bit of time! I know I've been slow on updating stories. I've been searching for inspiration and alas it seems I have found it. Hopefully, I'll be writing more often than I have been.

Again, a big hats-off to my beta, Karina001, for her excellent, excellent commentary and suggestions! Without her, you'd be getting a much cruddier, raw story with a lot more misspellings!

Thank you, individuallytrivial! You have now joined the ranks of the follower and favoriteer army. Albeit, you are a small force, but you shall champion forward valiantly.

I do have a few questions: How are you enjoying the story so far? Have you found any inconsistencies? Do you need any questions answered? What do you make of the canon characters? And do you have any suggestions for future missions? What sort of emotional response do you get out of this story? Do you laugh, do you cry, do you bemoan the foul writing? Answers would be much appreciated.

Until next time! God bless you and good reading!