Four and a half pages... I havent written this much for Before in a while.... or maybe never, I dunno, I'm too lazy to go check 7.7;

...this chapter and the following are going to be vents for the way things are going at my school as a result of the election. I'm fine and dandy with Obama winning (though I was a McCain supporter...), but it's NOT FINE that every --- Obama supporter in my school is just going all --- --- over me for losing the election!! SO! ... This spells mental torture and hell for Allen #—.— sorry kiddo. -emos-

ANYWAY! -coughcough- sorry about that... I know it feels like it's been a while since I updated anything (hell, it feels like forever since I wrote anything) but it's only been about ten days for all of them. I'll try to get everything updated by the weekend.

Disclaimer: If I owned D Gray-Man, don't you think I'd be a much better, more confident artist? Yeah, you'd think so... but I'm not... even if it is weird that we take the same weeks off...

Levirrier was angry. That and beginning to panic. Allen Walker was proving harder to break than he had ever anticipated. Than most had ever dreamed. The imbecile should have simply submitted long ago, rather than put himself and Central through so much.

Nina Levvia, the head nurse, was becoming protective of him, though not as though it was unusual, as she tended to become protective of all her patients. It was simply more dangerous to be protective of this one. The boy was currently, as Levirrier sat at his desk, ripping out his hair in frustration, lying in the sick bay supposedly half dead.

Half dead! That was halfway too far gone for such an important player!

If the boy be in his right mind, he might have wondered why Central hadn't just killed him off rather than having Espidan give him excruciatingly painful, but not fatal torture. He might bave wondered why they were going through so much trouble to keep him off balance but still plenty healthy and alive to be able to move about and rebel.

As it was, keeping him in this state, he had almost killed two guards in amazingly well formulated escape plans for one so close to complete insanity. The Crow prodigy, Howard Link, was also in the sick bay, though a different part, nursing an infected bite to his hand. It had been three months since that particular incident and they had yet to be rid of the inflamed, pussing flesh which he hid with his white gloves.

Despite such, Howard Link had also shown interest and prehaps even sympathy for Allen Walker. More than he ever had before when observing him. Levirrier worried silently about his German counterpart's protectiveness of Allen Walker. He realized that Howard was more attached to the young traitor, even if the rest of Central had managed to remain so clueless though all this and still believed the young Crow prodigy to simply be doing the assignned job.

Levirrier groaned. The sooner Allen Walker submitted, the better. The better fr the world, not just the Order. Not just Central, or Link, Nina or Malcom himself. His reasons were beyond those petty restrictions, even though they certainly made it much more personal and immediate.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, a grinding pain ripped through his head. He clutched his head, almost ripping out a good portion of his hair, falling off of his chair and onto the floor. Papers flew across the room as his body knocked into them.

It was only a few seconds, but they were an agonizing few seconds. Levirrier breathed hard as he rightened himself his hand supporting this weight by pressing down onto the floor. Something below his hand crumpled like a piece of paper, but thinner and more fragile than even that.

As he stood, the crumpled object remained in his hand. Looking down, he realized it was an article from a newspaper from today. Front page, it looked like. He uncrumpled it and held it tightly at the edges to try to smooth it out.

It would have been a completely useless, almost irrelevant article, if not for the rising sense of melice and hatred rising from within the farthest part of his mind at the thought of Allen Walker, warping what had only minutes before been anger and confusion into more sinister visions. The usual after-effect of the sharp pain.

Serial Killer in Custody

Robert Fredrick, 32, the serial killer who
 has for the past few months been roaming
 the back alleys of London has finally been
aprehanded by Scotland Yard.

Currently in custody, Fredrick has admit-
 ted to the murders of Joan-Bell Apritties, 22,
Maybelle Coonhide, 24, and Katie
 Brenicks, 21. He is to be executed in two
 days time, on November 12th in the year
 of XXXX.

Levirrier smiled. A very bad sign. If this were to go as he was planning it in his mind, if it could go as he planned, it could be the turning point in the war. It may very well be the one way to get yet another superhuman being against the Earl. Allen Walker would come a step closer to being controllable. If this failed, however, there would be one less to fight the Earl and possibly one more serial killer running around London. As though there weren't enough of those around, though. The Jack the Ripper case had been hell enough.

He returned to his desk and picked up the receiver old the French phone and turned the dial several times before holding the receiver to his ear and leaning into the mouth piece on the phone itself. "Good evening, I am Malcom C. Levirrier of Central Command of the Dark Religious Organization of the New World Alliance," He spoke into the mouth piece, using the well practiced, higher-class English and the introduction that every member of the Black Order who made constant phone calls would have to learn. "I would like to ask you about the serial killer, Robert Fredrick. Is he dead yet?"

000

Allen leaned against the wall below the large white window. The infirmary was as always, blindingly bright. For him, especially. He had the bed right below the window practically reserved. He took a deep breath. He felt like crap, no two ways about it, and the glare and reflection of the room was not helping his eyes nor his brain. Nevertheless, he was happy to have the window.

Sunlight woke him up much more than natural light ever could. He had spent a total of three days in the white halls of the infirmary. His mind was working better than it had in quite a while, though that was not an entirely good thing.

He was processing time again. He knew they would be back for him soon. They never let him rest more than three days except for the first time he ever came and was in for a week. It was impossible to explain how scared he was. He forced air through his lungs once more, realizing had become lightheaded.

It was warm, sitting there in the sunlight. His clothes had been ripped and shredded enough so that the Vatican had finally decided perhaps it was best to give him decent clothes again. So it was much warmer than he was used to.

Still, he could feel the cold, the pungant smell of the lower floors reaching up to try and snare him. Drag him down, chain him, gag him, bind him, suffocate—

He convulsed, his breathing stopped. He fell over, clutching his stomach. His arms twitches wildly, sending jolts through him every time. Every flick—

"Ahyc—" His throat clenched suddenly. Six times. His heartbeat grew abnormally loud and it rang in his ears. Throbbing, moving his whole body. His stomach churned hatefully, twisting inside of him. He clutched his stomach tighter, despite his trembling arms. God, he felt like he was going to throw up. He choked again. His legs buckled under him and he fell from his squat to the floor. His heart was still throbbing in his head, now with the rapid flow of blood through his ears. He was going to be sick—

It finally stopped and all Allen could do was roll over onto his knees and try to aim for the puke bin at the foot of his bed as his stomach convulsed once more. His throat heated and a horribly vile tasting thing came up and tout through his mouth, heating his entire face, inside and out. The chunks came out along with the thick liquid. I looked as horrible as it tasted and the smell made him want to puke all over again. His stomach complied quickly.

He whimpered, rolling against the bad as slowly as he could, holding his stomach. Remains of the liquid dribbled down his chin as he gasped for breath, the vile taste still haunting his mouth, made worse by the air. The sun still shown through the window, falling onto him, warming his trembling body. He kept his eyes closed as he just tried to focus on the sun rather than the smell and the taste and the aching of his limbs. His breathing slowed down gradually, not as frantic. His heart gradually slowed down, as did the rush of blood in his ears.

"Shit"

He lay still as he heard quick footsteps coming towards him. A cold rag touched his face and he flinched, but was too worn out to do anything more than that. The warm trickle of bile from his mouth was wiped away and a scraping sound signaled someone had taken away the throw up bucket. His limbs still hurt and his face was growing cold with the water on him.

He felt himself being lifted and the sunlight shifting it's glow on him. He thought numbly that he must be on his bed again. He had only managed to move on his own the other night and he was already back in the bed. He wasn't quite sure exactly how long he lay there, just breathing and feeling the sun on his now even more abnormally pale skin. He wondered vaguely if he would get sunburnt because of this, but decided he really didn't care but so much. He was quite sure he had fallen asleep for some time, because it seemed so suddenly that the sun had disappeared.

His eyes flickered open and discovered that he had indeed fallen asleep. The earlier blindingly white walls of the infirmary had dimmed to a light gray with the absence of the sun and the rising of the moon. Allen looked up and realized that the window's curtains hadn't been drawn shut. The moon was full as it's light wavered into the room. Allen sat up slowly, realizing sheets had been drawn up over him. He rubs his arms and the bandages on them, trying to gain some warmth as the room had cooled in the night.

He glanced at the grandfather clock across his bed near the door of the infirmary's office. It was long past midnight. What on Noah's Ark could have possessed his body to make him awaken at this hour?

He realized then that it had to be the rising voices outside the door.

He gasped and froze, recognizing both of them.

"Stand aside, we arent going to kill him."

"No, you're going to have someone else kill him! I saw the carriage, you're going to have him added to a body count!"

"Not a body count. He wont die unless he's truly that useless, and if he is, there will be no loss."

"What by the Gods? Malcom, you're losing it! Use your common sense, he's a child—"

"—A child who we need to work without complaint. Trust me, like the others, I know what I'm doing."

"You said that when we had Lenalee here. You said you had everything under control and that you knew exactly what you were doing when you—"

"—Lee was an unfortunate case, but in the end we did succeed, correct?"

"Because Lenalee had someone come and love her again! If not for Supervisor Komui coming, we would have lost her entirely and now you expect a miracle like that to—"

"Stand aside!"

There was a thud and the door flew open. Allen pressed agasint the headboard of his bed, like he was hoping to be sucked into it, or at least to have some distance put between him and Levirrier as the man strode through the door. The man looked absolutely insane. Allen caught a fleeting glimpse of Link helping Nina onto her feet behind Levirrier, but he soon found out that Levirrier wouldn't let him be distracted. He stepped into Allen's line of vision and almost forced Allen to meet his eyes with his glare. The glare that promised only bad things to come.

And then the man smiled. "You're already awake. That's good," Allen trembled, his blood running horribly cold in an instant. Then Levirrier changed back to the glare again. "Come."

Some other inmates of the infirmary had begun to stur and wake. Some turned to watch the spectacle, the two involved never noticing a thing.

"Ih... ih d-d—" Allen stuttered, his throat still healing over. "Ahha—" In a moment, Levirrier's hand was clasped around his neck. It slowly crushed him, pulling his head up and strangling him. Allen's hands clawed at the restriction on his throat as he gagged and choked beneath the crushing hold. His eyes grew wider when he realized Levirrier was in the perfect mood to kill him.

"Pah— sta—st-stap!" He cried, withering beneath the man as his head slowly grew light and his vision fuzzed over, though his thoughts were as clear as they'd ever been. "Ih— Ih gow!" Levirrier's hand dropped and Allen slid down the headboard, carefully covering his throat with his own hands. He gasped quietly for air while Levirrier glared down to him from above.

"Well, Allen Walker?" Levirrier asked. Allen trembled. In the moonlight, Levirrier's face was cast in shadow, but his golden eyes glared down at him with more fury than even the Earl might be able to muster up. It was absolutely terrifying to have this thing glare him down. So he trembled. What the hell was Levirrier planning to do with him this time? "Are you getting up or not?"

Allen nodded weakly, trying to lift himself up off the headboard and the bed. He wobbled and gripped the side of the bed when he got up, trying to regain balance. Levirrier snorted and Allen's face colored lightly. He could stand fine earlier in the day. Espidan caused pain, but not servere injuries. It still affected him like this, though.

Levirreir turned, walking briskly across the floor and out of the infirmary. Allen stumbled, trying to keep up with him. He passed Nina outside the door and Link grasped his arm as Allen came toward him and helped him walk. "Be careful, Allen," Link muttered in his ear as they trotted behind Levirrier. "This isn't going to be fun for anyone."

Allen nodded. He had realized that quickly, but hearing Link verbally voice concern for him made it much more dangerous than he would have thought. Link tightened his grip on Allen's shoulder, making Allen wince. The grip loosened immediately. Link could feel Allen trembling under him. He himself didn't not know what had possessed Levirrier to stage something like this... though that was a lie, he knew exactly what had made Levirrier react so radically to everything.

Allen bit his lower lip. He was starting to get truly frightened as they walked down the spiraling hallways. It wasn't the way to Espidan's room, nor to his cell, he was sure of that, and that made him even more worried. And suspicious.

They hadn't even bothered to bind his arm.

...long reviews today, please? I have to go to school tomorrow and face all the people who want to hate me... I need something to be happy about!! TT-TT Guesses about what's going to happen? Why Levirrier's acting so weirdishly? Being angry about how I just typed 'wierdishly'? ANYTHING??