"Good evening Paaolla. How are you this evening?"

"..."

"I hope none of the other members of this facility have bothered you in anyway."

Paaolla shook her head.

"Well, seeing as though you're being brief and quick with me, I'll do the same so I'm out of your way and you can return to where you're being housed presently." There was a chuckle, then quickly replaced with a soft wince. "You had an adopted father before you came here. But, do you recall anything about your real father?"

There was the sound of paper shifting along the table. < I never called him father >

"What did you call him then?"

< He was my enemy. >

"Your enemy? Did he hurt you?"

< Yes. He attacked me before. Many times. To teach me. >

"What did he intend to teach you by attacking you?"

< He trained me to be ready. For when he died. >

Her hand swiveled the paper around before flipping it back once she had finished adding to her words, a list.


< 1. Words can be twisted against me. Speak sparingly or not at all.

2. Hesitation kills. Do not.

3. Ever Vigilant. Always watchful. Even in my sleep.

4. Honor is pointless. Carry none.

5. Everyone is a traitor. Trust no one. >


There was a brief pause. "Why was he teaching you these things? What was he teaching you to be ready for?"

< For when he died >

"Did he die?"

She nodded plainly, not even the look of memories playing in her head or the briefest hint of discomfort in bringing up the topic.

"How did he die?"

Her response was quick...




< The force of a hammer to his trachea >