Yay! After many good reviews fer part one. I did part two! YAY! Sorry about killing Gaz off, but she dyed bravley **Shrinks away as a Game Slave flys where she once would have been** err...she's still mad at me.

I'm going to try to make #2 a better one than the first, break out the rice wine and the whipped cream...WE'RE GONNA PARTY LIKE IT 2001!! YEEHAA!! **Coughs* Okay, enough of my caffein high, on with the tale.

Disclaimer: I don't own Zim, too poor. I need money...GIVE ME YOUR MONEY!! Send it too 'Feed The Joker Foundation', Don't Sue ME!! Sue Dib.

Notes: this Death is inspired by Neil Gaimen. but not quite the same. A little different. PS: For this tale ____ lines are used a lot, so don't thin it going to end so soon.

MASQUERADE

part 2:

For Whom The Bell Tolls

Written by: The Joker Of Wonderland

Ask Not for whom the bell tolls

It tolls for thee...~

He paced the room in which he slept, turning Gaz's words over and over in his head. Trying to find the meaning, the POINT, in them. Who could defeat him? Who was she? How in the name of Irk could this...this persondefeat him anyway?

He had reached the conclusion that her words had been nothing more than a fevered attempt to frighten and confuse him. He smirked at the fact that they had failed and walked down to the throne hall. The words meaningless as the human herself had been, they held no hidden threat, no terrifying unseen knowledge. They were just words, nothing else...

Wasn't that right?

He irritably pushed that thought away, no use letting paranoia get the better of him, he was above all that. Such thoughts were for the fearful and un-certain. Humans namely. If he kept thinking like that then he would become like Dib had been, fearful, jumping at every shadow. After all, he would live longer than any of these pathetic creatures, and when he found a suitable concubine (definitely not any of these filthy human females) he would have a child to carry on his proud name and kingdom.

He ignored several of the sulking slaves that scurried out of his way, he walked with pride towards his richly deserved throne. He entered the room and was just about to call for a drink when he saw something that made him choke with rage.

There was a stinking, disgusting, dirty, human-slave beast sitting on his throne!

She was dressed in what appeared to be a tuxedo, cut so as too be feminine and 'sexy' (how males found their revolting counter parts appealing he would never understand), the black plants tight and, to top it off, a top hat place on a head of black unruly hair. Her eyes dark and a strange trinket hung from her pale neck.

Zim's rage was so great he could barely speak.

"Wha-What in the name of irk do YOU think your doing?!!" He tried to scream, but it came out as a rather strangled shout.

The female looked at him and smiled, her lips where also painted black.

"I've been waiting." She replied. Looking straight at him, straight through him. As if she could she the inner workings of his heart and brain, stripping him piece by piece until he was as bare as a child...eyes that dragged out his worst nightmares, worst fears, sucking him deeper...deeper...

He shook his head clearing it of the trance like state it had been in.

"Waiting? For what?" He needed to ask, it may have been a growl, but the question needed to be said.

She looked at him and smiled, the frightening thing was; she looked just like Gaz had before...

"For a man. Well, not really a man, maybe...one who doesn't know how foolish he really is." Her words shot his memory away. Spinning it in to the depths of his mind.

"Oh? Who?" He feeling of dread rose in his chest, his heart was fluttering like a trapped bird.

"I'm surprised you can't guess..." At those words, he turned and ran, bolting down the hall and skidding down the corridor. He slammed the door of his bed chamber behind him and slid to the floor, staring into the blackness that had seemed to suddenly swallow his bed room whole. He closed his eyes, willing it all to fade. But seconds after his eyes, images filled his brain...

Men running into flames, burning, screaming...

The sounds of gunfire, fading into the screams of pain and agony of the dying, the injured...

City exploding in flames, the smell of burning flesh, sickly sweet ...

Children playing a simple game of hopscotch by an iron gate, through which is a cemtery, swollen with graves...

The thunder of horses hooves as they ride into battle, screaming as they fall...

Skeletal bodies walking, lurching, in a thick fog-like world, blank eye sockets reveling nothing...

Eyes filled with misery, face twisted in pain...

And blood, rivers and rives of blood, the sky above red and thick with smoke...

It rains blood, splattering all beneath....

....

He clutched his head in both hands and screamed. The presser filling up, images behind his crimson eyes, overflowing with information, dragging put every twinge of guilt, every shadow of fear. And through it all, the urge to bleed...bleed it all away..

"She comes for us all, we're all equals to her." Gaz's words chased in his head, he knew. He lifted his head slowly, the pain causing him to speak each word carefully, slowly.

"It's...you. Your the one she spoke about." Zim watched the figure nod.

"Please...take this pain away." He begged, gripping his head even harder in his hands, a if he might crush it to stop the pictures marching in his skull.

"I will, but it'll also prevent this future from ever happening." She paused, as if waiting to see if he would protest. Zim was now curled up in a fetal position on the ground, still holding his head, blood trickled from beneath his finger nails.

"Thank...you" The words were mere whimpers.

The woman lifted her hand, and he sank into merciful silence, soothing darkness...

"ARRRGGGGHHH!!! GIR! Get of me NOW!!!" Zim screamed, pushing the hyperactive robot off his bed, wiping his face clean of the maple syrup that GIR had been using on his pancakes that morning.

"Disgusting.." He muttered, then peered out his window, he watched Dib try to sneak onto his lawn while Gaz watched from behind. Or rather, played her game slave.

He swung himself out of bed, preparing to face his enemy. As he walked to the door, he tried hard to remember what kind of dream he had had. But it danced back every time he tried to push it forward.

Something dark...something...sad...

With a shrug he marched out the door, yelling at his gnomes to seize the infidel. After all, one little dream was the same as the next.

Death watched from the cusp of sight, behind dreams and nightmares that were so often given to the young. With a nod, she walked away into Shadows. If one had listened carefully, the might have noticed the faint smile gracing her beautiful features...