A/N: Second update of the day! I had fun writing this chapter up, so I hope that you all enjoy reading it. And, well, that you let me know what you liked about it or what I can change about it. Now, I know a lot of people hate it when authors grovel for reviews, but put yourselves in my shoes for a little bit. Hearing what you all think of my writing is what makes me want to write more - and, at the moment, I've had a hundred people read this story and a single review.

"Bastard child," hissed the voices, all hoarse and low. Threatening like nothing else that Todd had heard before - except, hadn't he heard these exact sounds years ago?

He didn't know. Didn't know who was talking, or where he was. Just that it was dark. Dark enough that, in his mind, a different word should have been used to describe the chasm that he suddenlt found himself in. Black was a little better, because that was the only color that he could see.

Just black.

"Fuckin' loser," hissed another voice, and this one was right in Todd's ear. He tried to scream and run from it, but found that his feet were rooted in place. Everything was stiff and sore, and all that came out of his throat was a rasping rush of air.

Fear coursed through the young man; because, really, he was still young. Or was he old now, and almost done aging?

Todd suddenly couldn't remember. Then he couldn't even hear his own thoughts.

Around him, the rough voices had risen to a crescendo. They weren't low now, weren't whispers. They were screams; loud, earshattering screams; horrid sounds, that could have come from a beast just as easily as they could have come from a man.

"Fuckin' worthless piece of shit!"

"-left because no one needed you!"

"Retarded shit! Can't do anything right, can you, you fucker?"

Over and over, louder and louder, until all of the insults and names were just merging into one ring, ear-piercing and shrill. Todd didn't remember when he'd started to sob, just that the tears running down his face had started to burn away at his skin, leaving trails of ash and blood behind. That it burnt and everything around him was turning red, red, red!

He tried to claw at his face, but his arms were pinned to his sides. It was like someone had tied iron weights to his wrists, and they were tearing at the fragile skin there.

Todd knew pain, and he knew the screaming, shrieking laughter. He knew dark and black and red. Then he knew hands, clambering at his body and they weren't hands any more but claws that were trying to rip away his skin. Trying to wrench him open like the frogs Miss Kiowatz had once tried to get him to dissect, way back in eleventh grade; like the nameless doctor, who had just pried and pried and pried until Todd's voice gave way and he couldn't even breath.

Then, he didn't know anything at all.