(A/N: legal mumbo jumbo; I don't own soul calibur, Namco does…which makes me sad TT weeps & the lyrics are from Strength Through Wounding by AFI

I've been getting some great reviews from ppl. I love u all.

Shattered Farewell; TT I know he can't see. But he does kinda have a sixth sense though. thanx for the inspiration! Yay cookies::munch::

SamanthaMae: I'm going to be updating more often, both ivy & voldo are unpredictable hee hee

heaven-monument; the Italian language always fascinated me. It's such a beautiful language (it ain't called one of the romance languages for no reason heheh). I think I'm going to continue using some Italian for some of Voldo's more private thoughts.

To the readers; a little warning. I have nothing against French ppl. British & French ppl never had a fuzy relationship, lets just put it that way (and I quote from the French Prime Minister 'We don't trust people with bad food (the British)' so um yea. Plz don't kill me. On with the story…;hides;)

Chapter 3: Am I A Little Sick or A Little Saner?

Waiting was something Ivy didn't like. Patience was not one of her virtues. She would rather have things done quickly and gotten out of the way than to wait…it simply took to long. But for some reason, she didn't mind waiting, on this issue. She took more time in reading the poem she received over again. Thinking of all the possibilities of who could have written it. It couldn't have been Seigfried, he was too whiny by her standards. It couldn't have been Raphael, he was French…let's put it at that. Ivy hated him. Not Yoshimitsu, he was…Ivy just shifted her eyes around the room. She had no comment on the mechanical samurai...And thinking of weather or not Astaroth or Lizardman had written it was just plain disturbing in her book….Ivy's eyes shifted around the room once more. She placed her hand as a support for her chin. Nightmare was a self-absorbed bastard, so not him. Her eyes made one more circle around the room and she found a possibility. No, she thought, but it's not impossible….

Does this make me a little sick or a little saner?

Xxx

Voldo's white eyes stared into the single candle light. He moved the quill ever so slowly. Making every letter perfectly beautiful. Just like her.

"Non loro lascerò mai l'ha doluta, prometto," he whispered

Xxx

As Ivy pondered deeply, she heard a familiar metallic clamp. She slowly craned her head towards the mailbox. The red flag was once again up. Ivy shifted her eyes towards the grandfather clock as it chimed. 8:00 pm. She got up and walked to the steel box. In the same handwriting, layed a letter, with the words 'Ms. Valentine' written in that same calligraphy. She took it and went inside.

Xxx

Carefully opening it, she came upon another poem.

Through our bleeding, we are one!
Through the darkness breaks the light.
Through the light unending pain.
Deify the wretched ones till the darkness comes again.

Ivy smiled as her cheeks become a rosy red. She was willing to wait a little longer.

(A/N: translation: I'll never let them hurt you, I promise.)