A/N: WARNING. This chapter is pure nightmare fuel, because a certain character deserves no less. Ye be warned.

...sorry for the delay, something is wrong with me.

I don't feel like myself.

Not sure if its my depression or what, but I feel...off. My mood is high, then low, then high again. Its affecting...well, everything, to say nothing of my energy levels. Sometimes its an effort to just get out of bed, get dressed, and drag my self to work. I can feel it eating away at me, sapping my motivation bit by bit. Thanks to Slifer and Advent, I'm fighting on, but its still strange.

Trying my best to endure, here.

So here we go. The fate of this story depends on you, the reader. Your feedback determines the fate of this tale, and many others.

As ever, I own no references, quotes, memes or themes. They're tributes to legends one and all, far greater than me.

I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time.

In other words...its up to YOU, the reader. Do let me know~!

Minor verbatim from Arcane here.

"Fiddlesticks is just a story...yEs...JuSt A sToRy...

...NoThInG tO fEaR hErE, nOoO...

...nOtHiNg, BuT fEaR...itSeLF...

...RuN...sTaY dOwN...HiDe...

..ToO lAtE."

~?

FeAr (Scarecrow)

Fear was Fiddlesticks.

And Fiddlesticks was fear.

Always there. Always here. Ever near.

There could be no one without the other, no separating the two. Yet separated he had been. Torn and ripped and butchered, yes. The red one had sundered him, pulled him apart, beaten him so badly as to force his very existence to change. But fear could never die, no, no, no, he had learned, and so sought a new vessel for himself. A better body, forged not of sackcloth and rusted iron, but something...better. It had taken time. Much time, time in which to gather itself and become stronger

It had LEARNED from its mistake, inasmuch as it could learn.

Whatever didn't kill you made you stronger.

Or stranger.

Fiddlesticks didn't much care for the distinction between the two. It sought fear and hunted fear, just as before, but now things were different. For you see, it had thoughts now. Images. Ideas. Emotions. Crude caricatures of true intelligence perhaps, a pale shadow of a proper mind, but there is nothing quite so terrifying as a monster that thinks for itself. Its very being perceived the world in a different light and it LIKED what it found. So much fear here, so much to hunt and sow and reap.

It sought the strong-fear-smell as before, but it was distant, hidden, unable to be found.

So it sought others in the hopes that the fear-smell would seek it out.

Tonight, it would hunt.

"Fiddlesticks is just a fable!" it grumbled angrily to itself under its breath, snarling in a voice like so many nails scratching on chalkboard. "A story to scare children! Just a story! Just a story! Once upon a time, once..upon...a time...

No! Not a story! Never a story!

"REAP! RIP! TEAR!"

Loping forward through a rotten alley, the creature muttered to itself as it slinked along, keeping to the dark. It wasn't as strong as it had once been; it needed more time to recover, more fear. It must avoid the Red One for now, but not the Blue One. The girl of violet eyes who had the fear-stink about her. She would be a feast.

"High above the rotten rows. Cloth and metal. Teeth and crows...

By sheer chance, it encountered an old drunkard nursing a bottle of brandy. He would do.

Skittering closer, it clamored over a wall, around a pile of trash, and down from a broken roof like some sinister spider.

The man-thing did not see him yet, did not stink of fear; that would not do.

With infinite delicateness Fiddlesticks reached out and tapped his back.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice, now.

Annoyed, the man-thing turned and squinted at it. "Whuzzat now? Sod off, m'having a drink...

Gradually his bleary, milky eyes adjusted. Comprehended him in all his horror.

The bottle fell from the man-thing's grasp and shattered upon the street.

Fiddlesticks leaned in and smiled with its many, many teeth.

"HeLLo."

The man-thing recoiled. "WHAT ARE YOU?!"

There it was. The fear smell. And something far, far, FAR more pungent.

A wise man once said people scare better when they're dying.

He was right.

Fiddlesticks bit down on his head. The streets ran red.

And it fed.

"Through the field. Down the lane. Voices never heard again!"

Someone screamed down the way. Fiddlesticks looked up and beheld a mother clutching a babe to her breast.

Yesssss...fear...sUcH feAr...!

It lunged at them.

"Leave them alone!"

A thug got in the way, brandishing a metal pipe. Against all odds, it actually manged to land a blow and bash him in the head. Unbalanced, the reaper stumbled and crashed into a wall, tearing opening a building with its momentum. The woman fled from it, forgotten now, as the rest of the city came alive, thusly awakened by the noise.

That would not do.

No, no, no, nonononNO!

It was no fun when they weren't afraid!

Indignant, it opened the nearest gangster from guts to groin and threw itself at the next. A gun barked, drawing an aggravated cry from what passed for its maw.

"REAP!"

It dodged around a man's gun and slashed down, ripping them apart.

Someone ran away with a torch and the ancient horror pounced upon its back in a murder of crows.

Not...enough.

Need more.

FeAr...

Yes, it would find the ones with fear and then...it would reap.

A murder of crows descended upon Zaun.

And its people began to scream.

"Fid-dle-sticks. End of men. Fid-dle-sticks. First of ten!"

Glutting itself on fearful slaughter, it popped another gangster's head as one would an overripe grape and threw the remains down at their feet. A squad of gangsters, once so bold and brave, paused now in the face of its snaggle-toothed frin

"Rip AnD reNd...!"

The survivors turned and fled.

"I'm coming to help." it loped after them with a raspy cackle, broken joints popping and lurching and cracking. "Where are you? I can't see you. I. Can't. See you."

Something sharp and stinging and scarlet slammed into its jaw like a hammer, sending it spinning through a shop out the other side.

Confusion. Disarray. Pain.

It did not like pain.

"Oi!" A familair voice shouted at it, a hated voice it knew so well. "How many times do I have to teach you this lesson, scarecrow?!"

Fiddlesticks dragged itself up like a drunken spider and screamed its defiance.

Someone roared back, a noise that gave it pause.

It beheld its prey, teeth gone sharp, eyes glowing a baleful red, scarlet light even now shimmering over his skin. Recognized him now, as he stepped through the gaping hole he'd made.

Fiddlesticks had no heart to beat, but something twitched in it all the same.

"ReD mAn...

Flee!

Abandoning subtlety, it crashed through a building and fled.

The Red Man gave chase with an outraged snarl.

Fiddlesticks fled into the underbelly of Zaun.

One monster chased another.

(.0.0.0.)

Reality lurched back with a painful start.

Jinx reluctantly opened her eyes.

And heard the screams.

"Aw, crapbaskets...

A/N: See, this is what happens when you don't finish off your enemies, Naruto!

THEY COME BACK EVEN SMARTER.

Well? What say you? Would you like weekly updates again? Do let me know!

As ever, we're following the Ember's Rule for this and other stories. That's no joke. Really, it isn't.

If folks don't like this...well, it will remain, but I'll not be able to continue it. Every bit of feedback helps. Reviews are the fuel which keeps me writing in these crazy times. With my tight schedule an' bouncing between two jobs I simply don't have time to write a story folks don't like. Without them, my inspiration cannot take wing and I can't write a word. So by all means, speak up!

As ever, reviews are my lifeblood, my fuel, my sustenance. Without them, I cannot write.

So In the Immortal Words of Atlas... ...Revieeeeew, Would You Kindly?

And enjoy the previews. References are strong here...

(Preview)

...what happened here?"

Little puncher...little coward...yes...you smell of fear...

And what do you know of pain?

"Don't forget again."

"You never learn. Its almost sad, really, how utterly predictable you are...

"I warned you."

"Black and white and gray, I don't know what to do with gray...

"Enough! I won't let you get away with this!"

The blond berserker righted himself with a grunt. "Nice hammer, pretty boy. Lets see if you know how to use it."

EDIT: Hey, you made it! Sorry for the lack of length. Still down with the sickness, as it were.

As ever, the Embers rule remains. If folks don't like this story...well, it will remain, but it won't be continued. With two jobs, and rent to pay, my free time is at an all time low. I'm lucky to have four hours to write a day. I can't afford to pen stories that no one enjoys. So by all means, speak up! Every bit of feedback matters here! Truly, it does! That's no joke!

Looking forward to chatting with you all when I get back from work,

~Nz.

R&R~!