You don't know what your power has done to me

I want to know if I'll heal inside

I can't go on with a holocaust about to happen

Seeing you laughing another time

You'll never know how your face has haunted me

My very soul has to bleed this time

Another hole in the wall of my inner defenses

Leaving me breathless

The reason I know

That I am stricken and can't let you go

When the heart is cold, there's no hope and we know

That I am crippled by all that you've done

Into the abyss will I run

((alright guys, where the he-eck are all the reviewers?!? I got 2. Out of the five that I'd like. Whaz goin on? –searches crowd- ooooooo reviewers… Where are you? Anyways, thanks to Bubble Blower and silverswift. I know that there's more of you reading this. Yes, you. –hypnotic eyes-))


I frowned as Fang signed off suddenly, sinking into the recliner. I couldn't believe that he would leave me hanging like that. It seemed too… phoney, like something bad was going down wherever he was. I chucked the phone into the chair beside mine and pressed my hands into my face, taking a deep breath and counting to ten.

Polo walked in, brightening the room.

"You heard from Fang yet?" he asked in his creamy, velvet voice. I nodded, shoving a strand of hair from my face. Polo paused waiting me to continue. I stayed silent, massaging my forehead.

"So what's the plan? Where is he? What's going on?" he said, sitting down beside me, then jumping up to move my phone.

"I don't know. He says he's safe, but nothing else. He said that he did something to his wing and his leg, so he couldn't come. He was at some girl's house, and said that they were kinda like Dr. Martinez and Ella. I'm giving him a week before I go find him," I mumbled. He grabbed my hands and pulled me into his lap, burying his face into my hair.

"Don't worry, if he says he's fine, than he's fine. He would have figured something out to signal us. Morse code, code, secret language… something," he muttered, taking a deep sniff of my hair. I sighed. It was hard to stay angry with him beside me. I just nodded again, curling up against him.


Would you rather A) be on crutches while a girl who's been taking care of you gets beaten to hell by an enemy who you thought was dead, or B) get attacked by an enemy you thought dead instead of the girl. I'd rather have the enemy beat me instead. I ran at the eraser as fast as I could. The only thing that kept me from crying out was the years I'd spent in a freaking lab with abusive whitecoats.

I shouted hoarsely at the wolf guy as I football tackled him to the ground. A fist smashed into the side of my head. Holy shit, this guy was strong. I returned with a knee in the stomach, and the breath whooshed out of him. I gave him a punch of my own, and felt the fingers on my hand crack. He stuck his foot against my stomach and flipped me over my head onto my back. I felt my wing crumple, and I hissed in pain.

In the instant it took to suck in some air, the eraser was on me, smashing me to a pulp. Despite the pain, I felt vaguely in awe of this guy. He was stronger than anything I'd ever faced. Slithards, erasers, flyboys, even Ari, they all paled in comparison to him. How was he that strong?

My vision started to fade, and I heard a strange, hissing voice that was cold as ice.

"Slow down. It's not going to be as good if we kill him in an alley. We need to wait," it breathed. I heard laughter in its tone. The speaker stepped into my view. A man with light brown hair in a casual disarray stared down at the eraser and I was slightly startled at his appearance. He looked pretty handsome, and I'm a guy, so that's saying something. He looked about my age, fifteen. He smiled at me, apparently noticing my scrutinizing stare. His teeth were pointed, and I realized that he had black irises. Slithard.

"So? I won't kill him, just give him a taste of what's to come," the eraser said. His voice stirred something in my memory. Someone horribly familiar…

"That's enough, he's already beaten up enough. I didn't mash her face nearly that bad. We need to keep him from getting too hurt. Seven days, remember?" the slithard purred. Eraser man nodded slowly, staring into my eyes. Once again, I felt like I should know this guy.

He stepped away from me, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Okay, let's go," he muttered, tearing his gaze away from me. He turned around and walked to the back of the alley, his fur dissolving and his form shrinking as he de-morphed. Blackness swarmed in front of my eyes, but not before I caught a glimpse of a young figure with blonde hair.


I woke up to erie silence. My eyes slowly opened to see blue sky above me. Good. I wasn't in the Home or the School, and it wasn't nighttime, so I wouldn't be too late getting home. According to my watch, it was 3:45. I'd only been out for 15 minutes, so it wasn't a horrible blow.

Glancing around, I saw none of my enemies standing there with a gun, or any horrible traps. No slithards, no flyboys, no whitecoats… I then noticed a figure lying on the ground about ten feet away. I swore loudly, startling a group of pigeons from a trash bin, and ran toward Fang.

"Fang!" I shouted, shaking his shoulders. He cracked one eye open at me.

"Oh. Hello," he mumbled, struggling to get up. I had to help him, and he leaned heavily on me.

"Now we're going to fit in with my story easily," I joked nervously, a bit of hysteria in my laugh. He gently touched my black and swollen eye.

"It's somewhat true, at least. Now it's not a total lie," he mumbled.

We made our way to my house, agonizingly slowly. Sue came running as soon as I got inside, before I'd even gotten my shoes or jacket off.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, taking in our appearance. I saw how we looked in a mirror behind her. I had a heavily swollen black eye, and a bleeding lip. There was also a long scratch on my head, with congealed blood streaking my face. Fang had two swollen eyes, a bloody nose that had stopped sometime along the walk, and an array of bruises along his face.

"What happened? Who did this? Who is he? Are you okay?" she sputtered, helping me take off my jacket and shoes, then helping Fang with the same.

"It was some stupid gang in an alley. They attacked me, and Nick came out of nowhere and kicked their butts," I lied easily, drawing out Fang's name from school. It made me feel slightly guilty about how well I could lie. Sue believed that if you stared into someone's eyes, you could tell the truth from lies, but that wasn't true. My eyes were clear and honest, betraying nothing.

"Nick's got a pretty banged up leg, and his folks are away on a trip. They're missionaries, and they're gone to… Guyana, so he's staying home alone for a week and a half. Can he stay here while he gets better?" That should give him enough time to heal. I didn't want to think about after he left.

"Sure. Um, Nick can stay in the guest room," she suggested, working along with the plan perfectly. Normally, she wouldn't allow someone to stay here, but she was a sucker for injuries and she had always been guilty about not going to church enough.

"Sam, can you go get him settled in?" she added, smiling. "I'll make some snacks. Sam eats like a pig," she said, laughing. She thought I ate a lot? Wait until she sees him.

I helped him up the stairs, and we tumbled onto the guest bed, laughing at our success. I punched his shoulder lightly.

"That was great! She doesn't suspect a thing," I said, cackling.

"My karma's gonna really get me for this one," he chuckled, making me laugh harder.

"My karma has been out to get me ever since I was born. If it was real, then I'd have died a thousand long and painful deaths a long time ago," I giggled. We looked at each other, with our black eyes, mashed faces, and huge grins, then fell against each other, practically howling.

About two hours later, after we'd finished our snacks and my homework, we laid on my bed, making a song on my laptop. He was arguing about the lyrics while I made a few changes with the bass.

"They're too rhyme-ie. Come on, you must have something better than that," he said, pulling a face. I glanced at them.

"I know, they've been driving me nuts. I can't figure out what's wrong with them, and I have to have it done by Friday," I moaned.

"What for?"

"Battle of the Bands."

"You have a band?" he said incredulously, giving me a strange look. I nodded.

"What's its name?" he asked, doodling a row of diamonds on the lyrics sheet.

"Klash. With a 'K'"

"Nice," he complimented, erasing a word and writing a new one in.

"Hey, what are ya doin?" I asked, yanking the sheet from him. My eyebrows raised.

"Ohh, you're good," I said, mumbling the words to make sure that they fit. He smiled, brightening the room.

"Thanks. I try."


I glared at the wall of my room, sitting hunched against the headboard. Why did we have to wait? It would have been all too easy to just kill them. All too easy. Too easy wouldn't be fun. I wanted to take him down in combat, be the one on top this time. Fang had defeated me all the time back in the old Ari days, but I hadn't really been trying as hard with him. Max was the one that I had wanted, so I wasn't as focused.

Fang. I'll show him fang, I thought, grinning suddenly. I needed to think up a cool thing to say right before I tore his throat out.

"I'll show you fang," I snarled, trying it out. Sounded good, but I thought I could get better.

"Who's a freaking fridge now?" No, that would never do.

"Max picked me over you," I hissed. Oh, that was great. Something harsh, that would add insult to injury.

With a sigh, I dropped plotting and decided to go online, look at Fang's blog. I clicked on the link, which I had set under favorites, and scrolled down. Nothing new, nothing about him being with Sam.

After Sam had left, the higher-ups had allowed me to go in and use a newly created gas on their house. It put them to sleep and was colorless, scentless, and even tasteless. Then I snuck in and carefully did a bit of work on their memories. It was a complicated type of biotechnical equipment, and I can't explain the details here. It pretty much stopped some of the brain charges from getting to certain parts, denying them specific memories. It was incredibly difficult to do, and we had to have samples of their brain tissue, and each 'Zapper', as they were called, had to be specifically programmed.

To make a long story short, we Zapped their memories slightly. Certain events could easily disrupt the net around the gray matter that we created, and they could get their memories back. A concussion, an electrical shock, stuff like that. Also, if that person was to think too much about things that we hid from them, then it could possibly come back to them.

I was a bit worried about what would happen if Fang got his memories back. Maybe I could make him get them back before I killed him. Pain inside and out, not a bad idea.

It would make up for a little bit of the pain he caused Max and I. I blamed my death on him, even though he wasn't even really present when I had died the second time.

But still, everything was his fault.

((shortish, but it's four pages in word, not double spaced or anything. PLEASE review!! Press that purple-ish gray 'go' button and type me up something! O, and I have a new poll on my profile that I'd like you to go and enter something. If I could get three more people to vote, then that'd be awesome. And don't think that I can't tell if one person has voted three times, because I can. So there.))