Dear followers and favoriters,

To start, I apologize that this isn't an actual chapter (but read to the end and you may just win a prize). Usually I don't do this but when I realized that Out of Punishment was coming up on a year since the last update I almost screamed. So let me explain myself. A.k.a. let me prattle off excuses for essentially forgetting about OOP.

Basically, the story goes like this: I lost my inspiration last year after the most recent update, hit a depression-spell which lasted the entire summer, and when I started getting back into the swing of things I had to put it all on hold again to transition to University. Of course, Uni turned out to be a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be and I was definitely not prepared. The last three months saw another bout of depression, a huge work-load, and the loss of any interest in my hobbies (i.e. writing). Needless to say nothing got done the past few months. Because I suck.

Where am I going with this? I've been getting back into the swing of things but I'm having a huge dilemma in knowing which way to go with the story and hating every aspect of my writing style. Which means I've been switching between rewriting the past few chapters and writing the next few chapters. But it's horribly slow-going. So I'm writing this update to let everyone know that I haven't given up (you can all thank my dear friend Ariah for getting on my case for that) but I also have a request for those who have the time or energy.

If you can spare a few minutes I'd greatly appreciate if you could send me a message on my tumblr - anon is enabled: awritersbatcave . tumblr .com and let me know your thoughts on:

1. The pace. Is it too fast? Too slow? Acceptable?

2. The descriptions. Are there too many details? Not enough? A tolerable number?

3. Suggestions. About the plot, characters, etc. Any good ideas you'd love to see (with any of the characters)?

Just in case it wasn't obvious I am incredibly stumped right now so suggestions would be more than welcome! AND JUST TO REITERATE! PLEASE SEND MESSAGES VIA TUMBLR! I don't check my email often enough to catch any feedback through fan fiction. PLUS I will be replacing this chapter when I get back into the hang of things so it's slightly pointless to leave a review now - those logged in won't be able to leave a new one when the chapter is replaced. And you'll get feedback right away (as soon as I see a new message on Tumblr I'll reply ASAP).

PLEASE SEND MESSAGES TO MY TUMBLR!

awritersbatcave . tumblr . com

And as a thank you, here's a super super super rough start to chapter 6.

That Wednesday another three murders were the focus of NYU gossip.

At first Emily didn't pay much attention to the whispers. Every city had its share of deaths and they didn't seem that important in the long run; there hadn't been a single announcement by police that said murders had even happened. But as the day wore on and she heard more and more bits and pieces that didn't quite add up - that uneasy feeling lingered in the pit of her stomach. It was when she overheard two classmates use the term unexplainable that Emily's curiosity was struck. It was too familiar. Without having a clear reason why she began asking questions: keeping them subtle to avoid raising suspicion. Though, why it mattered if her classmates questioned why she was fishing for information was beyond her. It was simply reflex.

All those years trying to subtly question her younger siblings about touchy subjects paid off.

Her mind was still swimming with what she had learned when she parked her car in the garage. Immediately she made plans to do more snooping around as soon as she made it back to her room - assuming she could dodge the two assassins who roamed the Tower the past few days. It didn't seem too big of a task. So long as she could manage to avoid running into anyone on her way to her room she was sure it'd be fine.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

While waiting for the elevator she took her hair out of its ponytail and shook it out. As it bounced around her face and shoulders, her mind focused on that uneasy feeling. It didn't feel like bacteria scrapping the walls of her stomach, it didn't feel like the tickle of moths, nor did it feel like the aftereffects of a rollar-coaster ride. There was a darker undertone to it: a foreboding feeling of unrest. 'Just what is going on?' She sighed, her fingers gathering up her hair once again.

In the midst of putting it back up, the elevator dinged and she mumbled 'finally' before stepping forward.

Looking up just as the doors opened she bit back a scream.