I'm awfully sorry that I haven't posted for awhile. You see, my computer at home is riddled with viruses (667, must be a record… TT). Anyway, here's Chapter… 8... Or is it 9?

The Terror of Phantom

Rolan was lost. He had gone looking for Alviss in town, thinking he was going in the direction of the café. People had shunned him and even stoned him whenever he came near. He had wondered hopelessly down an alley. Now he was lost and stuck down a one-way dank dark alley. As he was about to turn away, a person stepped out from behind a trash can, laughing.

"What do we have here?" the guy sneered in a familiar voice. "A little mouse?" Jeering with laughter answered him as several scraggly men popped out from behind the trash cans. Rolan staggered back, his heart racing. He remembered these guys. They were the muggers from before.

"A pretty little mouse," the guy added, advancing on the petrified Rolan. The other guys laughed cruelly at their boss's joke.

This time, Rolan was alone. He had no ARMs to defend himself and he knew he was too weak in body to fight off the muscular giant that was still advancing on him. Alviss wasn't here to protect him this time.

Before he could run away or yell out for help, all the guys pinned him against the wall and gagged him. Rolan squeaked, being half crushed against the slimy rock. He was absolutely horrified. He didn't know exactly what was going to happen, but he knew it was bad and that it would hurt.

"I'm going to fuck you up good boy," the leader said, moving closer. Back towards the guy, Rolan understood what he was about to do. In blind terror he thrashed about, trying to get away but the guys were holding him with an iron grip. He tried screaming for help but it was muffled by the sour-tasting gag. "I haven't done this in awhile…" the disgusting man (who now stood behind Rolan) whispered in his ear, licking it with a cold slimy tongue.

Rolan couldn't take it. He was beyond terrified, his stomach boiled and burned, his sight dimmed, his heart felt as if it was going to burst painfully out of his chest and to make matters worse, a warm dampness in his pants told him that he had wet himself. He closed his eyes, silently pleading for someone, anyone to help him.

'It was black once again. Rolan quickened his pace as he raced down the dark hallway, the sound of his footfalls bounced off the cold stone walls. At last he came to two wooden doors, which he opened tirelessly and stepped through them. He stood now in a large spacious room. In the front of him were a throne and the enormous tapestry boasting the Chess symbol. On the throne reclined leisurely was Phantom. His legs were crossed and his head rested on his hand. His head was turned and he seemed to be having a pleasant conversation with the man standing beside him.

"Phantom," Rolan murmured, knowing that it did not matter if the man was enjoying his conversation or not; they were both dead. "Help me please." Phantom turned his head and looked at Rolan's helpless body. He smirked, his eyes squinting closed. "About time…" '

Rolan snapped his eyes open. His magical power burst forward, throwing the guys back, some smashing bodily into the opposite wall. He couldn't control it. He heard Phantom's laughter in his ears screaming at him to kill them all.

A kind of sick pleasure took over his entire body. He started to enjoy what he was doing as he threw himself around, burning them with his magic and killing them with jolts of condensed energy. Blood and yells of fright splattered whatever was left of Rolan's sanity. He laughed, causing mayhem everywhere he went.

"We must cleanse with blood and pain of humans!" Rolan thought he heard Phantom say, not realising that the words were coming from his mouth. "We rule with fear and wrath! We are the Chess Pieces!" Rolan collapsed amongst the charred bodies of the half-dead muggers and bits of what once was their leader. He was panting from all the effort, his body too tired to move. He twitched, his head was pulsating and he tasted blood in his raw throat. He continued to laugh madly, not able to stop himself. To think he was going to laugh himself to death!

"Rolan!" a voice gasped near him. Alviss rushed to his side, grasping him and holding tightly to his chest. Letting out a small sob as he took in all the chaos and destruction around them. Then he pulled himself together, standing up calmly and peering at the half-mad man at his feet. He didn't know what to do. When he imagined their reunion, it was nothing like this. "Oh, Rolan," he sighed, his eyes burning. He was too late.

"Al?" Rolan mumbled, his crazed laughter coming to a halt. Tears rolled down his flushed cheeks, washing away some of the grime and blood that stained them. "Al… What have I done?" he asked in a weak voice, his eyes distant and looking as if he was piercing Alviss's soul.

"They were bad people," Alviss comforted as he recognised who they were. "And I'm sure they deserved it." Rolan clung to Alviss's legs, far too tired to stand. He stared tearfully up at the man standing before him. He thought of Nanashi's question and at once knew a definite answer to it. He DID love Alviss. He wanted the man to hold him naked against his bare chest; he wanted to feel things that he had never felt before.

Alviss made a strange noise - something between a sigh and a moan - and then bent over, lifting Rolan up in his lean arms and carried him home, Rolan blushing furiously all the way.

The rain that had lightened considerably bucketed down harder. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Rolan buried himself fearfully into Alviss's chest, nearly falling asleep. He could get used to this…