Alrighty then! I know that I haven't posted for awhile, but I have been caught up in my other writing work, and preparing for school (college starts in two weeks yo!). I have a writing challenge for myself, for the month of August, that is quite disturbing me, as I can't seem to write anything. (Check my homepage for it.)

Either way, this chapter is from Pierrot's point-of-view (there will not be too many of these though), and this is what he feels while watching Ellie. It actually disturbed me to write this, so hopefully you'll feel the angst and sickness that festered in him through this chapter.

Enjoy, and review!

This chapter is dedicated to my made-of-awesome beta extraordinaire, Megan, who is extraordinary herself. Also, to the person who invented the word 'hootenanny.' Long story short, it is officially the most humorous word in the English language.


PROLOGUE - blood and antibiotic cream - "Prelude 12/21" by AFI
CHAPTER ONE - part from me my liar - "I Don't Love You" by My Chemical Romance
INTERLUDE - what you have hidden from me - "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" by Nancy Sinatra
SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN - dead or alice - "Never Gonna Stop" by Rob Zombie
CHAPTER TWO - where our story starts - "Darling You're Mean" by The Duke Spirit
CHAPTER THREE - the paper - "Closer" by Kings of Leon
CHAPTER FOUR - coward - "Haunted" by Evanescence
CHAPTER FIVE - dollface - "Varuna" by E.S. Posthumus
CHAPTER SIX - come out and say hello - "Nerve Damage" by Lifehouse
INTERLUDE - in which Pierrot dreams and dies - "Shattered" by Age of Information
CHAPTER SEVEN - on the road again - (unfinished)


Thursday, March 15, 2007 - Ides of March. James is attacked.
Friday, March 16, 2007 - James is in the hospital from his wounds
Monday, Nov. 5, 2007 - Ellie leaves James.
Monday, Feb. 4, 2008 - The body of Linda Crans is discovered.
Thursday, Nov. 5, 2009 - The story begins, Jannifer Schilling is murdered. Mrs. Blakely is murdered.
Saturday, Nov. 7, 2009 - Justin and his "cousins" move in next door to Ellie.
Sunday, Nov. 8, 2009 - Ellie is sent a copy of the Bay City Gazette and is informed of Jannifer Schilling's death. The first note is recieved.
Monday, Nov. 9, 2009 - More notes arrive. Ellie is kidnapped by Pierrot and his men.

INTERLUDE [in which Pierrot dreams and dies]

I admit – I watched her – I like to watch her while she sleeps. I admit it. I admit it.

I like to watch the pulse in her neck throb, because it's an angry wound. And the soft tilt of sun in her hair, because it's the reminder that thrusts itself into my jugular. And the way her hands clench when she dreams, because it's the bitter taste of her still on my tongue. It reminds me of the way things had been. But then again, those times are dead. And I should not dwell on them.

I should not dwell on them because, well, that person is dead. Gone. Not necessarily buried of course. If you rip off my mask and tear it to shreds, and rend my face into little bits of confetti, the face of that person will stare back at you. James Briggs, I think his name was.

But that person no longer lives here. Elvis said it best when he crooned, "No such person. No such zone."

It makes me want to tell little Ellie – tell her that her husband really is deceased. Tell her that I am only a shell. Just to see what it would do to her.

But then I would also have to somehow explain to myself why I am doing this to this woman, specifically. And that makes it seem that James really is still alive, but only a little. He is a minute testament to the fact that there is good in everyone.

And I want to know what happened to the kid, too. Where is it? In a filing cabinet under 'O' for 'offspring'? Hitchhiking to Arkansas? This is a case for 'Unsolved Mysteries' here. The old one with the guy who kissed Deanna Durbin, not the new one with Detective Fontana from 'Law & Order.'

I even feel somewhat responsible for the kid. I was the half-pint's father a long time ago, and it shares half of my genetic material. And even I will admit that old feelings take a long time to die. You can hurry along the process if you want, smother them in blood and joy, drown them out in a wash of flesh and bite, but even then it's a long time before they're gone completely.

Ellie is stirring now, and we wouldn't want her to wake without a welcoming party now, would we? I don't have any Hawaiian leis though. She won't mind.

I cannot resist the temptation to touch her, to run my finger along the length of her arm and watch the hairs as they rise up from my touch. From behind my mask, I can see her eyelids twitching and I think she must be dreaming about me. About James. Same difference. I narrow my eyes and concentrate on her forehead, imagining that in her dreams, there is blood suddenly dripping out of every pore of James' face.

I can hear her screaming at the sight of it in my ears and I can just feel her hands as they clutch at me to save her. I whisper, "No."

I'm telling you, I'm not in control anymore. I can see her writhing in my head as a child is expelled from her body, and there are fluids dripping from her thighs. There is blood everywhere, even on my face and hands, but instead of reveling in the warmth of the liquid I am silent. I feel like I should laugh or grin, or walk away but I am not allowed to.

I am not in control anymore. Her screams keep me here – they do far more to me than any I've heard before. When she was hurt and caught under the bed and crying out her noises tore at me. Tore at the part of me that he rubbed off on. These make me tumble like an unstable tower of blocks.

In my hallucination, in her dreams, she's not moving anymore. She is sleeping peacefully again, her legs curled up and an arm under her head. There is a child tucked into her chest. A child with blue lips and an unmoving chest. I can still feel the blood cooling on my cheeks.

Her eyes are open to me. They are filmy gray and milky, like the dead, like me. She's sitting up, letting the child fall to the ground, but I push her back down. I don't want her any closer to me.

I'm not in control, still. And I really don't want her near me anymore, but I move towards her again. Ellie does not react, just lays there on the ground, her mouth gaping open and the child half under her splayed left arm. Her shirt has been rumpled and pushed up and I place my hand on her hip.

Down the center of her lower abdomen is a line, raised and pale against her flesh. It runs down below the line of her pants and is neat, like a surgeon's stitch or a signature. I place my hand on the mark, press it down, and feel a nudge. A bump just barely there that reacts against my palm

All in her dream. Of course.

James is really gone. You should believe me. I can convince everyone better if you believe me.

The other man in the mirror shakes his head, and whispers, "No." Like I had to Ellie. "No, I don't believe you." He looks like me.

But he is gone, vanished like my life. It is only Pierrot that lives here now. No duplexes for me. This is a single family unit now. I don't share.

I look down. My hand really is on her stomach, on the raised line, pressing down like I'm trying to feel something, and Justin is staring at me. There is nothing.

Thanks so much to my reviewers, lindzypops and XxXMusicSavesMySoulXxX - your revews mean so much to me! Thanks!