Well here we are, a second chapter! I wasn't sure if I was going to do another one but I have been forced to. This chapter will contain Jizabel and Crehador by order of Emma and since self-determination is for losers and all the cool kids are digging the peer-pressure thing that's what I'll do.

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It was evening when Jizabel walked out of a shop. He had been standing in said shop for the past twenty or so minutes reading the more interesting newspaper articles before putting it back down and leaving without paying for it. He truly was an evil man.

As he walked down the road he mulled over the news, it seemed to him that people really had rather a bad habit of dying, not in particularly classy ways either. To him 'tragically and brutally murdered to death with an axe,' is not evidence of a very classy murderer. In his opinion, if you were going to be deranged you may as well do it in style.

However, the thought of all that blood was having…adverse effects on his body. The newspaper said her eyes had bulged when she was hit. Jizabel licked his lips and then suddenly realised he was acting very creepily.

He decided to leave all thoughts of eyes in the back of is mind until he got home to his room with his jars of eyes and his pictures of eyes and his small scale models of eyes where he could whip his one eyed man thing and… well, you get the picture.

For now he contented himself with walking down the long dark road and loitering under lampposts to make his hair shiny. He carried on doing this until he heard a voice from behind him.

"Hey girlie, you looking for some fun?"

Jizabel took a second out of his hectic schedule of being a complete weirdo to be offended. Just because he was looking at the way his long, fair hair shone in the light he was a girl. Then he realised that standing under a lamppost in the middle of London at midnight probably did make him look a bit like prostitute. He turned round to face the man who had talked to him.

"Sir, are you addressing me?" He did not feel the need to point to himself to get his point across as there was no-one else there so instead he let his hand reach towards his pocket and wondered if someone calling him a girl was a scalpelling offence.

"Holy crap you're male!" The other man exclaimed with a look of surprise on his face.

Jizabel noticed that the other man appeared to have lost his shirt somewhere which was a rather amazing feat considering he was still wearing his cloak. It seemed that two women had noticed his shirtlessness and were attempting to keep him warm by following him round and rubbing his chest. He wondered for a brief moment how they were staying warm as they seemed to be clad in nothing but scanties, then he realised he didn't care.

"Sorry," smirked the man. "I thought you were a woman. I'm Dominic Crehador." The man then pulled two business cards out of his pocket and handed them to Jizabel. One said 'Dominic Crehador – Medium' on it in big letters and below that 'I'm not a crook; I'm really magic I swear!' The second simply said 'Dominic Crehador, Freelance Pimp.'

'Both of them are valid so feel free to use my services." He smirked then continued strutting down the road clicking his fingers to signal that the scantily-clad girls should continue keeping him warm.

This whole experience had left Jizabel in rather a bad mood so he decided to head for home.

He had almost made it to his abode when fate let him to bump into his darling half-brother. Having meddled enough, Fate grew wing and flew off to point Jack the ripper in the direction of the last girl Cain looked at for more than five seconds.

"Oooh! Hi Jizabel! Hi! Over here!" Cain started jumping up and down and waving like a madman. As if him, standing under a lamp on a deserted street wasn't noticeable enough.

"Hello Cain," his voice was full of spite and evil and other nasty things like spiders.

"Hi brother," Jizabel flinched at this comment. "You're just the person we needed. We were about to go to daddy's to see if you were there but now we don't have to because you're here." Cain smiled and looked up through his big, green eyes.

'No! Must not think about eyes!' Jizabel reminded to himself. "What is your problem?" He replied being sure to keep his voice colder than a very cold thing.

"Well, Riff had to give the help a speech because we had a visitor and then the maid's kept talking and he had to figure out what they were saying and he used his voice too much and now his voice box has shrivelled up and he can't talk." Cain seemed to be able to talk forever without having to breathe.

"And you want me to fix it? What's in it for me?" Jizabel was now leaning very nonchalantly against a wall with a scalpel in one hand. All in all he looked pretty badass.

"Well… I can let you have the body of that girl who got brutally and tragically axe murdered yesterday. I know you like corpses, I've always wondered what you did with them to be honest, you just keep them in your room until they start to rot and smell." Jizabel blushed profusely and quickly replied.

"Yes, yes, okay." He rummaged around in his bag before pulling out a small box of pills. "Tell him to take one of these twice a day after meals."

"Thank you! Oh he will be pleased! Now he can keep telling me bed time stories. I'll have the body sent to you tomorrow. Now, we must dash, we have to make sure all the birds have these on." Cain lifted up a small curtain on a small curtain rail. "Bye!"

And with that he ran off with Riff in tow.

It reminded Jizabel of when they were younger and he has murderous intent. He used to lock his younger brother in a cupboard and he'd come out saying whatever jibberish the help had been talking about. It was quite a good technique for spying on maids.

Finally he made it to his house, well, his father's house. When he entered he saw that the candles had all been blown out, a sure sign that Alexis was home and probably plotting. Not that you could tell if he was plotting from the lights, god no, but he's always plotting so it's a pretty sure bet.

And lo and behold he walked out of the living room.

"Good evening Jizabel. I trust from your countenance that you have had a pleasant dusk?" Alexis was looking over his glasses in a very sinister way, apparently he was too set in his ways to get bifocals.

"I suppose it was pleasurable enough, you were spared a visit from the cursed boy."

His father looked taken aback at this. "Who? Mr Hyde? I'll have you know I rather enjoy his company."

"No father, Cain" Jizabel relied with a sigh."

"Ah, the demon child himself, the one with the cursed blood of endless sinning generations. Born out of incest and raised like a freak…"

Alexis had started getting rather loud and waving his arms around, Jizabel had heard this speech many times before and so decided it was time for him to retire to his room. After all, he had some eye business to sort out…

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Huzzah! I don't think this chapter was as good as the last one to be honest but it's alright. I would really like to write more of Alexis but I don't think I could keep up with the speech.

Also not much Crehador (sorry Emma) BUT he was topless so I guess that makes up for it.

Sorry for sins against grammar, it's too late to think of such things.

Also my spell check says that 'jibberish' isn't a word, it lies.