Finally! Chapter 3 is here! Sorry it took a while, I kept procrastinating... I blame school, and distracting friends I roleplay with... But nonetheless! I actually listened to one song while writing a certain part of this chapter, the song makes me sad.. Song is named 'Don't you leave me' Meh, enough rambling from me. Read already! What are you doing, reading my incoherent, redundant author's note for anyways? XD

P.s. I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes

Arthur could feel the sweat beginning to form on the back of his neck. The sound of Michelle slamming the door behind her echoed through the room and Francis stood in the shadows for a few moments after the echoing stopped. He walked slowly 'towards Arthur until there were only a few inches between the two men, and Francis smiled sweetly, pulling Arthur into a hug and whispering into his ear, "Now, mon petit lapin, if you do not struggle then this will be over soon... I would hate to see you suffer, wait... I would love to see you suffer actually but you must be taught your lesson. Don't you see? If I do this then there is no way that you will try and run... I can't have you running from me now can I?" Francis bit Arthur's neck softly and walked away from him, the nibble made Arthur flinch and a slight gasp escaped his lips. Arthur rubbed his neck, his eyes and mind filled with fear.

"What... what is going to happen to me here? Is this man for real? I don't want to die here!" Thoughts like those ran through Arthur's mind as he stared blankly at Francis, even though Arthur knew this man was about to torture him, he couldn't help but admire Francis' looks. Francis looked like the perfect man... only, he wasn't really human was he. Arthur looked took this time to look around the room before Francis asked him to do anything. The room was relatively large and very poorly lit, the same bleak shadows and shapes that danced in the hallways also covered the walls in this room, Arthur can see one torch in the room, right above... shackles? Arthur's face lost its color and he had to look away, for next to the torch there was a lifeless body, it looked as though it belonged to a small Chinese man... Michelle, she talked of their last pet, and he was Chinese wasn't he... "I had nearly forgotten about that one..." Francis laughed demonically as he looked to the lifeless corpse that laid on the ground. "Shades, hear your master. Dispose of this corpse, it is going to scare my pet, oui?" After that last word exited the Frenchman's mouth the corpse was covered in dense shadows, the shadows remained there for a few seconds and Francis smiled. "That takes care of that.. Now, are you done looking around Arthur? I do believe you and I have a date." Arthur looked to the Frenchman with fearful eyes and then back to the corpse... wait, where was it?

"Th-those shadows... The corpse, what... what just happened?" Arthur said shakily, his voice cracking. Francis chuckled and the noise made Arthur jump, his voice sounded so demonic... so very evil. Arthur quickly looked around the room again, trying to avoid looking at his captor or the spot where the lifeless corpse used to lay. The room smelled of death and it was almost sickening, the walls in places were covered in blood and there was a dark cabinet in one corner of the room. Arthur pushed the cabinet out of his mind, he got the feeling that he would soon find what lied in it. The floors were made of stone and the walls that were not covered in blood looked as though they were made of wood. Arthur heard a noise coming from one side of the room and Francis was standing there, while Arthur had been looking around he had walked over to a pair of shackles and opened them, he had also removed his shirt which Arthur could not help but notice. "Are you bloody serious? You expect me to walk into my own torture? You must be out of your mind!" Arthur sneered, realizing a moment afterwards that he shouldn't have said anything. Francis smiled and his features seemed to darken.

Francis suddenly disappeared, and reappeared almost simultaneously behind Arthur, twisting his arms painfully behind him. He let out a yelp and Francis smirked, leaning over Arthur and whispering in his ear, "I though I told you that if you didn't struggle then this would be over sooner. Did I not? Or am I going to have to force you into those cuffs? The choice is yours mon petit lapin." Francis let go of Arthur's arms and pushed him to the floor. Arthur slowly stood up, rubbing his wrists and facing Francis again. The Frenchman looked almost happy to see Arthur in pain, could he just be that sadistic, or that twisted? Either way Arthur knew this wasn't going to end well for him, so he decided to make it at least a little easier on himself. He turned away from Francis and walked over to where the cuffs hung from the wall, every mussel in Arthur's body was shaking and his mind was telling him to run, but run where?

Arthur didn't know the answer so he obediently took his place under the cuffs with his back to the wall. Francis smiled sadistically and walked over to where Arthur was standing, "What a good little one you have already become! If only I could get you to be a little more obedient then I think we will get along fine, don't you think?" Francis revealed a few sharpened teeth and Arthur jumped slightly. After chuckling softly Francis grabbed the Englishman's arms harshly and one by one held them up to the shackles and locked them. Arthur closed his eyes, wishing that this would all be over, all of this had to be some terrible nightmare... but just as Arthur thought he would wake up he was jolted back into reality. Francis undid Arthur's shirt and a searing pain began at his collarbone, and slowly ran a pointed fingernail down to his belly button. Arthur refused to let himself scream, He couldn't show Francis that he was weak, but he did allow himself to open his eyes. Francis was standing in front of him, licking his fingernail that had what appeared to be blood on it.

"That is some tasty blood you have running through your veins. AB+ if I am correct, that blood type is so rare.. and it has been so long since I have eaten..." Francis' eyes began to glow again, his demonic features becoming more present and his smile became frightening. "Only a taste... that is all I need." The Frenchman cooed to himself softly, his eyes were glazed over with hunger.

"Wh-what are you doing Francis?" Arthur asked softly, even though he was being tortured he couldn't help but worry for the Frenchman, how long will he last with Francis looking the way he does anyways? Francis suddenly snapped out of his trance, looking visibly shaken.

"Jeanne? ... I hear you.. where are you my love?" Francis muttered silently to himself, Arthur could barely hear him and he looked puzzled. The Frenchman looked to Arthur again, his eyes and face returning to normal. "Oh... It is just you, I was torturing you wasn't I? Alright then mon petit lapin. Let the fun begin." Those words sent a shiver down Arthur's spine. "He sounds so different.. Almost more violent, shit this isn't going to end well." Francis laughed. "I seem to have already made the fist cut. That's good at least." He ran his fingernail down the same path he took the first time and Arthur closed his eyes, gasping as a million little shocks ran from the cut. The Frenchman smirked while watching Arthur in pain, the looks of pain on Arthur's face are so intoxicating, almost addicting. Francis' face almost glistened as he smiled demonically, walking back to the wood cabinet in the corner of the room and whistling the French national anthem.

Arthur tried to think of anything other than what the half-demon was doing. Until this point he was convinced that he was dreaming... but now... now he was sure this was real. And he was sure that he was going to die here. "There are so many weapons here to chose from... but which one, which one? Hmm... I should save the Cat O' Nine Tails for later. Hmmm.. Ooh, I haven't used this one in a while.." Francis muttered to himself as he pulled a Black Sjambok from the cabinet. Arthur's eyes widened in horror as he looked upon the whip. A thousand thoughts raced through his head. Francis licked his lips as he walked up to Arthur, leaning in to whisper into his ear. "I promise this won't take long." Francis then walked slowly backwards and cracked his whip. Arthur felt a sudden pain run through his chest and he cried out in pain. The whip was cracked a few more times, each time in a different spot, but receiving the same reaction from Arthur. The pain began to spread and his chest reddened. Arthur began panting, just realizing that this wasn't a dream, and this was not going to end with him waking up. Francis traced the thin red marks on Arthur's chest, watching as the Englishman winced in pain, he could tell that Arthur was trying not to scream, but Francis wanted to hear the man scream in pain... Francis retreated a few steps cracking his whip a few more times on Arthur's bare chest...

"Un... Deux... Trois... Quatre... Cinq..." Francis muttered in rhythm with the cracks of the whip, slowly smiling as he notices the tears welling up in Arthur's eyes. After a few more strokes and some undistinguishable noises that escaped Arthur's lips Francis began to sing to as he whipped Arthur, "I have sailed the world, beheld it's wonders... From the Dardanelle to the Mountains of Peru.. But there is no place like London!"

"Th... there's no place... like L-london?" Arthur manages to choke out, a small bit of blood ran from his mouth and Francis licked the blood from his lips. The Englishman jumped slightly and then grunted in pain from his chest. Francis grinned and backed back up to where he stood moments ago.

"You know why you are being punished, oui?"

"Because you are a sadistic bastard maybe?" Arthur laughed, grunting from the pain yet again.. If he was going to die here today then he was going to give that Frenchman a piece of his mind.

"Tsk tsk tsk... Now, now mon petit lapin. Where was the sweet agreeable disposition you had earlier? I liked that version of you a lot more than this one. Ten more strokes to add to the total for the backtalk. I think that sounds fair." Francis said as he cracked the whip across Arthur's face, blood trickled down the Englishman's cheek.

"Fair? Ha! How can you talk about fair when you forced me into this house and into this position? If I die here at least I will die having given you a piece of my mind! I don't believe you are half-demon but I do believe you are one twisted son of a bitch!"

Francis only laughed softly, and his eyes began to glow red again. "You want to see the power of a demon, little pet? Then you shall.." Francis walked backwards into the corner. The lights in the room seemed to dim and Arthur became frozen in shock, he looked onto the true form of the Frenchman and was lost for words. The thing in that corner definitely wasn't human, and Arthur, for one of the few times in his life was genuinely afraid. "Do you still not believe me?" Francis asked, back in his human form and suddenly standing in front of Arthur. The human could only nod, because he was frozen in shock and because of the pain searing from his chest. "Nine more strokes, oui? That is where we were. And I am punishing you because you are disrespectful, also if I had you leave then things would turn difficult for Michelle and myself." France began to hum as he finished the remaining nine strokes, watching gleefully as Arthur whined from the pain. After the ninth stroke Francis dropped the whip, calling out to the shades. "Shades! Hear your master, heal the human.. I need him fresh, make sure you heal him properly." As he finished the last words the shadows pealed themselves from the walls and surrounded Arthur, dissolving the cuffs and watched as Arthur closed his eyes tightly.

"No... please don't kill me.. Francis! Don't let me die!" Arthur stuttered out before he was encased in shadows, Francis was frozen where he stood, his light blue eyes frozen in time and a tears began to well up in his eyes. Francis stormed out of the room as quickly as he could, nearly running up another flight of stairs and into the large master bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Jeanne..." Francis muttered to himself, "I heard you again, in that mans voice.. Why did you have to leave me? I can't take this! Even after all these years I can't forget you..." Francis grabbed his face, tears fell from his eyes as he fell onto the large bed that was pressed up against one of the walls, slowly his vision shifted... he was remembering...

-One hundred and sixty five years ago-

"Oh come on Francis, it will work! Please? I want to be with you forever, Je'taime." A blond woman looked deep into Francis' blue eyes, her pouting was drawing the Frenchman in, but he snapped out of it.

"Non, Jeanne.. There are too many complications, what if something went wrong? What if you died? I don't think I will be able to live without you..." Francis tried to argue but the woman was persistent, she hugged him tightly, her long hair falling from its tie and her nightdress became caught in the buttons of the Frenchman's shirt. Francis returned the embrace, sighing into her hair, it smelled of roses. "Jeanne... I can't, please understand.. I may be a half-demon but I love you with every fiber of my being, and I can't shake the feeling that something may go wrong. I can't lose you... Je t'aime..."

"Don't worry my love. I am not going to leave you, I promise.. Every year I get older and you never change. I can't take it! We finally look the same age, please.. I can't grow older than you... I can't.." A tear ran down Jeanne's face, and Francis took her face in his hands, wiping away her tears. "Please Francis... help me perform the ritual. Let me become a demon with you, please? These last five years have been the best years I could have ever dreamed, let me live with you forever. You are my soul mate..." She began, but broke into tears again, shortly after.

"There, there. Don't cry... I don't want to see those beautiful eyes soiled by tears. These last years have been the best years of my life as well, but I can't lose you.."

"Stop focusing on the negative silly, just imagine what life will be like with us together forever, s'il vous plait?" Jeanne stroked Francis' face as she spoke those last words. The two of them sat there in silence for a few moments, just gazing into each others eyes. Jeanne and Francis had meet a little over five years ago, by accident in a bar. She was looking for the man who had mugged her younger sister and ran into Francis instead. He helped her out and "took care" of the man for her, they began seeing each other more frequently and eventually he asked her to accompany him to dinner. They began to date each other and their feelings grew. Jeanne eventually found out about Francis being a half-demon and she was fine with it, under the condition that she would one day become a demon with him.

"... Fine, I will help you... but I don't want this for you. You should be able to live a normal life, not one of the damned.. if you do this you will never be able to live happily. You will never see if there is a heaven out there. Please think about this more Jeanne.."

"I will be happy as long as I am with you, this I promise. Please just help be perform the ritual! I will do whatever I need to." Jeanne kissed Francis softly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Francis returned the kiss and sighed softly, "If you are so sure about this then we shall do it tonight. I have the pentagram ready.. I just need you to lie in it. I can recite the spell, and you will have to drink a small amount of my blood.. And then it will be done, hopefully. Are you sure about this? You will never have a human life again..."

"Oui! I am sure, just tell me where I need to go!" The two of them stood up and walked into the next room, hand-in-hand. There was a pentagram carved into the floor, and Jeanne lied down in the middle of it, looking at Francis eagerly. "Now is finally the time when I become like you, I have waited for this.. We will be forever together, mon amour." Francis sighed and walked up to her, kneeling beside her and cutting his wrist slightly with a pointed fingernail, letting some of the crimson blood drip into Jeanne's mouth.

"Now I just have to recite the words, this may hurt.. but I promise you that you will be okay. I won't let you die here... Je t'aime Jeanne."

"Je t'aime aussi Francis. Don't let me die here." She laughed softly and waited.

Francis walked out of the circle and stood right outside it. "Nunc, Domine mortis accipiatis collectam Meam. Et qui creavit humanam animam tuam ante te. Tolle daemonium animo relinquat. Solam manus non possum. Amabo, quaeso nunc succurre mihi. Partum a daemon et accipe anima. Sed facere fero scelus!" He recited, over a few times until the circle began to glow with an eerie red light.

"I think it is working Francis.. n-noo..- Jeanne let out a shrill scream and blood began to run from her eyes. Her body began to violently shake and her eyes rolled back inside her head. Blood gushed from her mouth and her limbs became twisted, a voice that was not her own came from her mouth,

"You ignorant fool, did you really think I would let her live? I don't care if you are my son. You should know better than to fall in love with a human." And with that the strange voice disappeared, and the red light faded. Leaving only a carved pentagram and a twisted body in its wake. Francis stood there in shock.. Jeanne was gone.. her body.. no.. why? Tears rolled from his eyes and all he could do was stand there, frozen..

"F...Fr-Francis?" A light voice came from the seemingly lifeless body. Francis quickly rushed to the body, taking what was left of Jeanne's hand in his own.

"Oui, mon amour. Talk to me, s'il vous plait!" Francis said softly, gently moving her hair from her face.

"I... I am ... gl.. glad that... I ... meat you... I... I lo-love y.." And with that Jeanne fell silent, her hand relaxing and her eyelids sliding closed. All Francis could so was sit and cry. The love of his life, his soul mate.. and the first person he had ever loved lied in his arms dead.. and it was all his fault. He should have been more stern, he shouldn't have given into her request. And now he will never see his love again, he will never be able to feel her warm touch again, or feel her soft lips against his. Francis sat there for days, crying to the memories of him and Jeanne. Their long walks on the beach, and their nights cooking together. All of them gone... Francis wished that he was dead, he wished that he would never feel any emotions ever again...

-Present-

Francis lied on his bed, crying into his pillow. Why did those memories have to hurt so much? Why did Jeanne have to die that night, after he had promised her that he would not let her die? Francis wiped his tears away, in the years since her death he had hardened himself, feeling little emotion and perfecting his hunting.. He could not let his past make him weak.. he had to face his father one day, and for that he has to be strong. There was suddenly a knock on the door to Francis' room, quickly knocking him out of his thoughts. "Who is it?" He asked harshly, and Michelle peaked her head into his room, smiling brightly.

"Hey Papa, are you alright? I found Arthur all healed by the shades and I put him in bed, he is pretty asleep.. Oh, and there is someone here that wants to talk to you." Michelle smiled brightly as a loud, obnoxious voice rang down the hallway.

"Francis! Bro where are you! You can't hide from my awesomeness for long!" A few moments later an albino with red eyes and white hair entered Francis' room. "There you are! Ha! Did you miss me? It has only been about a hundred years!" He yelled, even though Michelle and Francis were close to him.

"Bonojur Gilbert. What are you doing here?" Francis asked, trying to sound friendly, but a little annoyance seeping into his voice.

"No need to be like that! I know you are jealous of me.. but c'mon man! I am here to see you!"

"Merde..." Francis muttered before lying back into the comfort of his pillow.

Sooooo? What did you think? Personally I cried a bit, but that's just me. I used Google translate for the Latin, so here is what it's SUPPOSED to mean..

"Nunc, Domine mortis accipiatis collectam Meam. Et qui creavit humanam animam tuam ante te. Tolle daemonium animo relinquat. Solam manus non possum. Amabo, quaeso nunc succurre mihi. Partum a daemon et accipe anima. Sed facere fero scelus!"

"Now, oh lord of death, take my offering. Create one of your own and take the human soul of the one before you. Take her soul and leave behind a demon. Not by my hand can I do this alone. Please, I beg help me now. Create a demon and take the soul. I summon you now to do my deed!"

Other than that... Leave me comments! Tell your friends! And hug a spotted owl... although if you do that take pics so I can see! Remember that comments save Hitler babies!

Fare-thee-well my lovelies! Je t'aime mon amis~ -hugs for all-