There was a heave, a dry one at that, as a blue eye opened. There was a groggy cough and an attempted roll. When she didn?t move she looked at her arms and legs with a gasp. Whimpering she tugged at the chains that bound her to no avail. There was another cough, and a dry heave. She lurched in her spot hands shaking neck sore as she felt her neck throb at the spot the dart had hit. Again she lurched and shifted her pale face tinted green.

There was a groan from her lips as she lurched again. Trying to roll on her side, still nothing was coming out. Groggy she looked about. Everything was blurred as she lay there tugging at the chains that wouldn?t release her. Choking again she managed to turn her head and spoke softly,? Where? where? am I??

A crash, the echoing sound of shattingering glass and a blaze of light and electricity illuminate the darkness in a nearby chamber. Then a cry of outrage splintered that sound of glass and light.

"I can't remember anything. Can't tell if this is true or dream. / Deep down inside I feel the scream. / This terrible silence stops with me. / Now that the war is through with me. / I'm waking up. I cannot see. / That there's not much left of me. / Nothing is real but pain now."

Another thunderous crash and illuminating lightning splinter the shadows with more screams a managerie of voices.

"Wish I was. Too dead to cry, the self afflicion fades." / "Stones to throw at my creator" / "Masochist to which I catered." / You don't need to bother. I don't need to be." / "I'll keep slippin farther. And once I am done, I won't let go till it bleeds."

Spurs jingle in the following eerie silence as light erupts closer to the chamber entrance offering the image of a hanging portrait. Though it's face remains in shadow a cold auro eminates from it with only the faint showing of pale white as if the illusion of fangs in the shadowy figure.

"Wish I was too dead to care. If indeed I cared at all." / "Never had a voice to protest. So you fed me." / "Shit to digest." / "I wish I had a reason. My flaws are open season. For this I gave of trying. One good turn deserves my dying."

Those impossibly thin shoulders begin to shake as the turned away figure gazes upon that painting. Music plays from nowhere the sound filling the catecombs impossibly loud, dust falls from the cavernous cieling as a multitude of televisions blast to light. The lyricists face clear as day.

"Wish I may. Wish I might. Have this wish I wish tonight." / "Are you satisfied?" / "Dig for gold. Dig for fame. You dig to make your name." / "Are you passified?" / "All the wants you waste. All the things you tame." / "And it all crashes down. And you break your crown. And you point your finger. But there's no one around."

That voice a perfect chameleon of the original artist, just as it always is. Never a word spoken in the singer of songs own voice. Always playing another soul to do it's endeavors. That face showing nothing but rage as it focused on the painting.

"Just one more thing Just to play the king. But the castles crumble and your left with just at thing. Where's your crown King Nothing. Where's your crown."

A sudden shift. Enraged contours calm instantly. A change in music and a change in tone.

"Walking, waiting. Alone without a care." / "Hoping and hating. The things that I can't bare." / "Did you think it's cool to walk right up. To take my life and FUCK it up! Well did you?" "Well did you?" "I see hell in your eyes!" / "Taken in by surprise!" "Touching you made me feel alive." "Touching you made me die inside."

The anger returned instantly. Channeled through the music as the pretty poppet remained ignored, though her wounds were cleaned and dressed. Wouldn't do to have the angelic one die on him now would it?

"I am watching the rise and fall. Of my salvation." / "There's so much shit around me. Such a lack of compassion." / "I thought it would be 40 days. But instead it's all the same." / "I want something to do. Need to feel the sickness in you." / "I feel the reason as it's leavin me no not again." / "It's quite decieving as I'm feeling their flesh make me bad."

Knees bend in that moldy home to touch jeans against the grimey cobbled floor. A rat scurries from the shadows to dart across the entry way, it's path quick and fearful not to be caught.

"What does it mean to you!" "For me it's something I just do." "I want something. I need to feel the sickness...in you."

Another change, a flickering of images then a flash of static until visions settle showing five women, each going about their business, though the last lay chained just behind him. Chains moving with struggle.

"When I look into your eyes. I can see a love restrained. Darlin when I hold you. Don't you know I feel the same. Nothing lasts forever. And we both know hearts can change. And it's hard to hold a candle. In the cold Rhydin rain."

Vested shoulders fall back against the ground as that pale being collapsed, a reverberation of power lingering in the air from the changing music and the chameleon voices of their rightful artists. As that warped soul fell to the sleep of death, another flicker shook across the televisions. Memories began to play.

"Fortune, Fame, Mirror Vane. Gone insane. But the memory remains!" / "Heavy raindrop fingers wave. Another star denies the pain. See the nowhere crowd crying nowhere chills of honor." / "Like twisted vines that grow. I'd have swallowed ancients whole. Dim the light of an all ready faded Prima Donna!" / "Fortune fame, mirror vane. Gone insane. Fortune, Fame, Mirror, Vane, Gone insane. But the memory remains."

The nights would pass until on somber night, if the Angel opened her eyes those hues would be silver, not blue. Silver hair would glitter there as the Angel?s wing tips grew darker despite the tender care of her captor. Then the Angel, little Face, would hear him saying her name, Hina, at last that Angel would open her eyes to seek out dear Skid. Though she still slumbered in the catacombs, glowing in the lights casted on her, small and tender silver dove, Hina. As those eyes opened, Hina would have no time to close them again. Hell fire would wrap around her specter and consume it.

Sweet Hina would come to scream and writhe against her binds as the burning blaze tore at binding chains with in her. There was Michael, warrior, friend, love, throwing her down from the clouded grace in to a child, fresh with new innocence. A crimson haired Kaze scooping young Hina into a birthday present embrace, blue eyes of a five year old beamed with joy at the sight of a new toy. Dearest Father, Dominic, ran through with a demon?s blade as the twelve year old discovered those pure white wings. A dancing couple, Hina in white, Gakobe in black, both smiling in glee, such an emotional memory. Gakob was hitting her, screaming, calling her a waste, but she loved him. Angels love all the best they can despite those who wronged them. Hina baring a still child, the blame of such a loss was used to her husband?s advantage. More fists would connect with her face until nexus took hold of her fate. How she saw that loathed thing as her savior! Skid sitting on the bar with Hina sharing an acid green glowing ale. For the first time, in a long time, Hina would know great joy. Shaking hands would sign a set of papers, Skid would faint at the sight of them, and Hina would be free from another captivity. Glittery greed from a silver necklace, born on black wings would come a beast, Hina?s innocence was now deceased.

Then there was the next night. Cain at last would come to see Hina?s specter. Singing with another?s voice he?d mute the screams of the demons as they crawled on the inside to burst out. A way ward hand would dispel that specter, into her body where she?d see dreams. Memories that weren?t her own would come flowing to her.

Hina?s breath slowed. She whimpered against the dream in despair, yet her body went limp. Neck turned to the side, ever so easily as her breath faded, but did not die. Calm at last she didn?t fight her binds or try to move from them. Lying limp, her slender form succumbed to him, at last he would have his chance.

Ring around the rosy,

Pocket full of posies,

Ashes, Ashes,

Hina falls down.