A week passed since the trespassing incident. Caroline was worried, but she recovered her bombastic behavior, and Bill Hawks continued his life, duplicating the security system in his house.

But the suspense was gradually morphing into a blight that stubbornly refused to dissipate.

Since the police couldn't find any evidence of the burglar being the same madman, the investigation was discontinued. The prime minister tried everything, without avail.

Bill Hawks couldn't take it anymore. Despite his wife's warnings, he needed to go out and get some fresh air. His neck ached,and his hands were filled with sweat.

After some consideration, he neatly tucked some of the documents in his folder,and stood up, walking out of his house, leaving behind the worried protests of his wife.

The zephyr of the late afternoon was a good change of pace, and with a contempt smile, he watched the hurried pace of others with hidden mirth.

'Ah, the hard-working men still try their best to improve our city!'

He continued walking, until he reached the city center, and mindlessly entered to the first drinking place he found. He knew that it was still early, but he needed to loosen up. The black dove.

He didn't like that name.

After some swigs of the strongest alcoholic drink, he noticed that he had company.

"Bad day?"

He just nodded, too tired to answer.

"Here, my treat."

The stranger poured another cup of the contents in the alcoholic bottle. He took a swig, without noticing that half of it dripped from his mouth.

"Where are my manners? I am Klaus Culver. I am a journalist."

The stranger stretched his hand, and Bill Hawks sloppily shook it, and slumped in his chair once again, not caring in the least who was the unwelcomed individual.

They remained silent for a moment, until the man leaned closer, almost sinisterly snarling.

"Life is a funny thing. I met once a prime minister that was corrupted and rotten to the deepest flesh of his heart. He had no compassion, nor feelings. He only cared of his position. He was a murderer."

When he obtained no response from his collapsed companion, he smiled pleasantly and called the waiter. Paying the bill, he headed outside, apologizing for his companions' repulsive behaviour.

I was disgusted by the sight of Bill Hawks. But I couldn't let my chance slip by.

The goddesses were helping me, and I obliged. Ever since entering into his house at the pretense of being a technician, I couldn't find a new way to approach him.

Kill the pig! Cut his throat! Kill the pig! Bash him in!

I was giddy with glee and I couldn't help but to let the grin break into my face. Whistling, I carried the slumped body of the soon former minister of this land.

Life was not fair.

But soon it will be.

Life was an enigma.

And death is a paradox.

I hurried my pace, to the rendezvous point, not caring anymore if Bill Hawks lost a leg or an eye.

After all, only the grand finale waited. I could already feel the ghosts and spirits of the dead chanting, merrily dancing around the Minister, aware that a new soul would soon join them in the underworld.

Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!

Bill Hawks opened his bleary eyes when the sound of falling raindrops resonated through the room. He squinted in the darkness, trying to see the morning light with no avail.

He was bound.

The prime minister struggled, wrestled and fought, but he couldn't move.

He tried crawling across the floor, until he hit his head with the ceiling. He tried feeling around, and he realized that he was in an exact square made of cement.

One of the walls were still damp, showing that was closed a little ago, and the whole "box" was full of minuscule holes, that let the air in, as well as the drops of water. No light was filtered through, and a sickeningly saccharine smell inundated the place.

Until he realized that he was covered in ooze that radiated the odour.

Bill had to retain the remaining dignity to not scream in disgust, when he heard crackling of a speaker, surely coming from the outside of the box.

"I am sorry that it had to come this way, but none of this would happen if YOU weren't here in the first place!"

Bill could swear that the voice was from the beast that had abducted him 6 years ago.

"Any last words for the world?"

"Wait-Wha-? Th-This is PREPOSTEROUS! Unhandme at once!"

"It's too late now. Too bad. Enjoy! After all, you won't be leaving anytime SOON. I'll tell your regards to your family, if you have one, that is."

"Wait-!"

The speaker went mute. There was an eerie silence heavy in the room.

Bill Hawks glanced at his feet anticipating for something, and discovered that several toenails were missing. blood red flesh mingled with the stale air, and he had to bite his lips to not scream in horror. He couldn't feel the pain since the ropes that tied his feet cut the blood circulation, but it was an appalling sight.

That was until he discovered a crimson ant curiously skidding on his knee. Bill crushed the ant, disgusted and shocked.

He could hear faint snipping sounds from afar.

Snip,snip,snip.

The tired and bound minister thought that the police and the ambulance were cutting through the set of traps that the madman may have laid across the place, and rejoiced.

Until he discovered that the holes in the concrete box he wan in was bleeding.

Trails of red poured from the outside, slowly filling up the concrete box, and Bill scrammed to the farthest point, trying to avoid the sloshing pool.

But they weren't liquid. They had eyes and feet, and were slowly coming to him.

He tried to crawl and escape from the red army, and every time his feet touched the concrete ground, his naked toes left a trail of blood.

They were following him.

Snip,snip,snip.

They were all over him.

Snip,snip,snip.

He screamed in pain every time a shearing jaw closed down on him.

He wriggled every time a new flesh was torn apart.

He agonized every time sound of jaws echoed throughout the small box.

A.N: Sorry for the late update. I won't say excuses, because they are what they are: excuses.

I had to tone down the level of violence in this level to keep going in T. (Is this even considered T?) But then, the original one was much darker than this one. My little sister told me to hold back since she, unlike me, had some sympathy on Bill.

Do you like it? I think I do. (I still prefer the original version better though.) This site kept messing with the line brakes. I don't know what wrong, so I had to continue fixing it.

And yes, there are some of Lord of the flies quotes.

Those were Dorylus ants. They are carnivore, (I did a research, but there are no records of them eating humans, but bear with me. I know that they are used as emergency stitches in case of wounds. You have the ant bite down on you in both sides of the open wound, and tear the body off its head. They will remain for days, so your wound can naturally heal meanwhile.)

And Klaus is the Japanese version of Clive's name and Culver means Dove in Old English. I had to give him a false name, since he can't run around with his famous crime tag in his name.

And here is the last chapter. Bill Hawks gets what he deserves. Maybe I'll post an epilogue, maybe not.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing this chapter, and I thank aquamelon, Redsparrow3 and Ryoko no Kimi for reviewing.

Aquamelon: Thank you for taking your time and reviewing. I don't think I deserve your praise. I'm glad that you liked it.

Redsparrow3: Thank you for reviewing in every chapter until now. I'm really happy. Thank you.

Ryoko no Kimi: I'm glad that you liked this fic. Thank you very much, and I hope you liked it.