Okay, it's been a LONG LONG time since I updated. Sorry.

This chapter's kinda morbid. . .

"Jizabel," Cain whispered, not surprised to see him.

"Hello, Cain. Have you come for you beloved?" He said in an almost possessed tone.

Cain fiddled with the pistol in his hand. Why hadn't he brought something more? It was obvious that Jizabel would be here. With a swift movement, the gun was pinted directly at Jizabel's forehead.

"Feels a bit like deja vu, eh brother?" The wicked man said with a smile. He too had a pistol, and it was wedged under Cain's chin. Cain pushed the gossamer-haired man further into the dark building. Only a few small torches lit the industrial building. It appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. There were large steel windows and brick walls with sticky white paint. Cain had Jizabel in the middle of the one-room building now, and their eyes were locked onto the others. It seemed that they were communicating; expressing passionate hate that words cannot describe. Out of the corner of his eye, Cain cought sight of Riff, passed out on the cold concrete floor.

Cain stepped away, walking behind Jizabel to look at Riff. He turned around to face his half-brother, now Jizabel's back was facing the door. Cain raised his gun once more, this time to Jizabel's heart. He slipped his other hand in his pocket, desperately searching for a knife or something sharp enough to stab his brother with. When he found nothing, he shoved his hand in his coat pocket, grasping the handle of a tiny dagger. His knuckles tunred white as the rage flared hotter than the flames of the torches.

"Oh, you foolish little man," Jizabel said with a deadly smile, "You really think you can win. But you see, your confidence will be you demise." He chuckled. "I've brought you hear for a reason. See, there used to be a doll shop here. Not a normal one. They made the most beautiful dolls, with pale porcelain skin and shiny glass eyes. Some were even more beautiful than real girls. The dollmaker was not satisfied though. He lived alone; no wife, no kids. He wanted to have a daughter as beautiful as his dolls.
So, one day he got the idea to put a human heart in a doll. He killed one of his workers, and used that heart. The doll came to life, but could not move. So, one by one, the doll maker killed all of his workers, and used their organs in his dolls. He made many beautiful girls, but all of them had one thing they could not do. Some couldn' talk, others couldn't blink, some just made gurgling noises and bled from their eyes.
He was so sad that he burried all his dolls and himself here. But, I've brought him back to see you."

There was an agonized moan that came from the doorway. Cain turned around to see a walking dead man. His flesh was peeling from his bones, his eye sockets were filled with maggots. Blood spurted from the heart that faintly beated from underneath what was left of his ribcage. He carried his immobile doll in his hands. Cain raised his gun. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

When he opened them, twenty dolls stood before him, covered in dirt. They hissed and the spat at him, screaming and crying. He shot the nearest one. She had thin red hair and no left arm. Immediately, the doll died and fell lifelessly to the floor. Just as Cain thought that this would be easy, the dolls screamed and began attacking Cain. They scratched at him and bit him. He shot four more, and the rampage grew more hectic. The dollmaker weapt on the floor. Cain shot another five. Only ten were left.

With each doll he shot, the dolls that were left grew angrier and more powerful. By the time Cain had shot them all, the dollmaker was as rageful as the dolls. He maoned and charged towards Cain. Cain pulled the trigger on his pistol. Nothing. He was out of bullets. He threw the worthless gun on the ground and pulled out his dagger.

He grabbed the corpes by its rotting neck, and with the other hand he took out the dagger. Cain shoved his hand in between the ribs, searching with the heart with his dagger. When he felt the dagger go into the bloody organ, he grasped it hard to pull it out and stab it again. It didn't budge. It was stuck. The dead man cried out as his heart spewed even more blood.He fell to the floor and seized. He coughed and a thick black substance came from his mouth. With his last cough, a small, dark, metallic pellet came out. Cain leaned into look at what is was. He examined it for a half second, then sprinted to the other side of the warehouse.

Just as he reached the other side where Riff and Jizabel were, the far corner of the warehouse burst into flames with a loud boom. All that was left there when the smoke cleared was the heart of the dollmaker, still beating. The small bomb hadn't as much damage as Jizabel thought it would.

But before Cain could blink, Jizabel was standing with his back to the door and a gun pointed at Cain's head. The man chuckled. "Goodbye, Cain!" He laughed.

The sound of a gunblast filled Cain's ears and he snapped his eyes shut. But surprisingly, he opened them to see Jizabel dead on the floor, and Mary stanging in the doorway with a huge gun in her hands.

"Mary!" Cain shouted. She ran to Riff, and she and Cain tried to wake him up.

"Riff," Cain whispered into his ear. "Riff, wake up." He heard Riff make a little sound.

"C- . . . Cain? You're. . . alive?" He opened his eyes slowly. "Cain!" he sighed.

Cain smiled. Riff smiled back. He leaned in to Riff, kissing him softly.

"Oh, get a room." Mary scoffed.

Cain just smiled through the kiss and flipped up his middle finger.

- FIN -

I hope everyone enjoyed it! :D