A/N

The sequel to Graveyards of Understanding is here! *dramatic music plays* I have a feeling you will all like this one. It is much like the other one. I know the title is confusing, but as you read more of the story, you will grow to understand it. Enjoy.

I do NOT own Invader Zim.

Blankets wrapped themselves in a lulling cocoon around her resting body. Gaz smiled thoughtfully in her sleep and for once, sweet dreams existed in her mind. But something was wrong. Very wrong. And it showed as she shot up and gasped.

"Zim!"

A soft beep filled the room. The stench of chemicals fogged his mind. Frozen metal restrained his limbs.

Let me go.

Got to get out.

It's so bright.

Never trust a human.

Never trust a human…

With eyelids peeling open, a beam of light scalded his delicate eyes. He squinted and frowned, wriggling and squirming to get free but to not avail. Avoiding the light, he peered through hazy eyes at the being sitting on the chair in the corner. Eyebrows furrowed, mouth frowning, he felt something snap within. Dib.

"You…" his unrecognizable voice growled.

A nearby metallic table cradling knives and beakers caught his attention. One in particular, with water gently boiling inside, triggered a reaction in the young Irken. Only then could he feel the flesh and tissue inside the passage of his throat cracking and tearing from lack of hydration. Even if it was the very element that held the power of burning him, for a reason unknown to him, he found himself craving it.

Soon a group of men clad in lab coats, entered the room, holding various objects. The head of the group, a man with black hair and goggles fastened firmly to his face, stopped by Dib and began a conversation.

His father, his mind groaned.

He watched closely, though his line of vision was cut off when a man stepped before him and pulled the sleeve of his uniform back. A shock of pain shot through his arm like a bullet and not much later did he see the cord of an IV running down his arm and piercing his flesh. In the pouch at the end, a purple liquid floated lifelessly inside.

Though he knew not of the substance, panic struck his mind. His body begun to shook uncontrollably, his vision fading. He screamed loudly before fainting.

Behind his still body, the Professor rested a hand on his son, who stared thoughtlessly, clutching the Irken's wig and contacts.

"You have done well, son."

A/N

Wow. That was a little harsh. I know you are probably hating me right now for the obvious cliffhanger, but don't worry! I will update soon :). Thanks for all of the support for Graveyards of Understanding and I hope you enjoy this story as much as you did that one!