Absolute Truth
Chapter 1: Blood of the Sacred, Blood of the Damned

What was the start of all this? When did things get so out of hand? No, those questions no longer mattered to the assassin anymore. All that mattered now was survivel.

The assassin jettisoned the spent magazine out of his beretta, and slammed another one in. He cocked the gun and held it parallel to his face. A rumbling in the distance? Reinforcements? No, just the eight-o'clock train. Good a time as any...

The assassin launched from his cover, his action was met with a hailstorm of bullets. Three in all, each brandishing a Kastekniv, better known as a AK-47. The rifle rounds left a trail punctured and pulverized debris behind the fleeing assassin.

"This plan is flawless, my freund! Truly, God could not have conjured up so perfect a scheme!" Vlad. Was he responsible for this? No, Vlad was nothing more than another pawn. No, Vlad was more of a Tower piece. Wielding more power, more control, yet still expendable.

The assassin didn't even bother to return fire, to do so would either slow him if he took aim, or simply waste his fast dwindling stock of ammunition. His pursuers darted behind him, seemingly spraying bullets after him. They were too good for that, the assassin knew. Was he being herded? No time to think, just react.

"Do you want me? Do you wish to make love to me? Show me what you want..." The assassin could swear he could still taste her lips. Her heart beating against his. The scent of a woman, a shadow of what at one time he wanted. Was she the start of all this? No, like everything else, she seemed like an illusion at the time.

The assassin sprinted down the hall. At the far side were a set of double doors. The assassin knew this place, and knew the doors to be unlocked. Chance's were, so did his pursuers.

"When your path is blocked, carve yourself a new one." Funny, after all these years...

The assassin slammed his right foot down, ducking low, he raised his gun high and blew out the window next to him. He sprang from the ground, diving into the moonlit street. Miraculously, even after the eighteen foot drop to the pavement, the assassin landed on his feet.

Thunder sounded in the distance, and the thirty-ought six round found its mark. He simply didn't realize he had been hit, he just thought he was still falling. His head slammed to the pavement, the force of the shot knocking him off his feet.

He had been hit, he knew it now, though he knew not where. His life was no longer up to him. His continued existance was now a matter of chance. All he could do now was watch... was think... was blame...

It came to him then, as the darkness began to engulf him. Those words, spoken... God, was it that long ago? Six years? It seemed so long yet so close.

"Welcome, children, to the Valley of Death." The words that started it all.

==============

Six years ago...

It was like being born again. Birth, is that not the ultimate cruelty? To realize one's own existance. To touch, to feel, to breath, to smell, and yet not understand the self. To look into the mirror, and see naught but a stranger returning your gaze?

One by one, the children awoke to a world and existance beyond their understanding or memory. One by one, the awoke in a small plain looking compound. Lined up on either side of the long, barracks like building were twenty-four beds, each with an occupent slowly gaining conciousness. The beds themselves were uncomfortablely hard, and at the foot of each one lied a trunk. Green in color, the trunks each sported a sturdy looking padlock. There were no windows, however, several lights hung limply from the ceiling illumintating the complex. A pair of double door's lied on one end of the complex while a air-conditioner lied on the other.

It is here, the children, from little over ten years old to almost twenty, were born again.

A girl woke and rubbed her head, raking her fingers threw her short hair, a habit that would never cease. But, as she did it, she realized this.
i have short hair, she thought to herself. She looked down and began to collect her self, and realized what her body looked like. She wondered what her face looked like, but didn't fully care. She got up to sit on the side of the bed and looked around at the others waking.
Is it military? she thought, rubbing her left wrist with her right hand. Another habit that wouldn't die. She looked down at herself again, assessing the clothes, and how they matched that of the other kids
"looks like it" she said quietly to herself. Rather gracefully, but without the owner knowing, her body moved up to stand and look around. Even without her memories, her curiousity still lived. She peaked over to the trunk at the end of her bed, seeing the others. she bent down and tried to open it, but failed, and realized again that the padlock was to answer for. She unbent, standing the full hight, and feeling neither tall nor short. She looked at the bed post to get a general look at her own face, and found it rather freckly, but not as if she had been in the sun much. She felt her own face, around her eyes. Curiousity about herself sated, she looked around to the other kids.
"does anyone know why we're here?" she said, in a normal tone, as to not wake the sleeping but still be heard by the awakened.

At the very end of the barrack like building, in a corner bed...there lies a boy, seems not to be older than 16, probably less. White long hair, crystal blue eyes, skin both rough and smooth at once....

Two marks were hidden now, they always were when he slept...
The cross scar between his eyes, and a hourglass birthmark...

Hazzy in mind he slowly woke up, looking half asleep he wondered how he got there, and why...
He looked at himself, clothed in black...arctic camo pants, heavy boots, tanktop and a pair of finger-less fighting gloves....

"Where am I, is this military?"

"For that sake, who am I ?!?"

He slipped his view at his hands, holding them at waist height...tightening the grip.

"Damnit!!!"

Shouting in anger he punched into the wall, making a mark on it....
Slightly he felt watched, all the eyes were on him...looking strange at him...

The children were locked in a barracks of sorts. They each awakened at their own pace. One awoke slowly. At first he merely stirred, but eventually his movements grew stronger. Soon he was sitting upright. He had absolutely no recollection of who, what, or where he was.

Name? he thought. Name, name, name, name, NAME!

What is my name?

Why am I going through this torment?

Why must this sort of thing always happen to me?

Who the hell am I, anyway?

The boy's breathing quickened. Soon he was almost huffing, gasping for breath as he awaited the next chapter of his life to unfold. In the meantime, he looked around at the other children. Many were still asleep. Those who were awake appeared to be going through similar thought processes as his. Some children were older, some younger. There were adolescents, young adults, and even mere ankle-biters, who couldn't have possibly been much older than ten or eleven. Nevertheless, they seemed intelligent enough to be distressed, and the boy felt empathy for them.

He laid back down in his bed and waited for the moment when everything would be revealed.

A growling from one of the many barracks of the childern the russet eyed and pale tendriled girl awokened, her ocuclars glaring about almost in a pouty annoyed way her mind raced of htoughts that perluded things that would be in the future of her owns self. Her arms Wrapt about her knees holding them sombelry to the large mounds of her breasts, lips mumbled a few un auditable words of confusion and hunger noticing others awake in thier clells and cell blocks with their own gurmbles and questions. Lips parted shallowly as her speech was soft her cell mate as it seemed wasn't awake if they were paired with other childern.


"why...what who? what is going on, who am i and what are they using me for?"

sullen innocence on a guildted frame of femmism, and sheer comatosed spates wriggling her toes after the whle her questions seeped from her voice box. Her hair short and barly missing her thin roudned shoulder flipping out crazily as if it was bedhead issues, eyes fathomless and swirling waiting for something to happen which was inevitable to the facts something will. Peahc colored lips mumbled a caressive of words huddled like a ball her heart raising in its beats per minute like about to ahve a heart attack.

Her breath rolled form the pink tongue, her teeth chittered a little bit as her skin color was a pale frosty mocha bean coloration a tropical sensitivity to it all. She began to wonder with the malfunctions of her mind creating or trying ot place fuzzy memories that wer enow wiped clean from her mind like a computers database to re start all over again still she wished for something to grasp on to and take hold like a blight. comfort wasn't present in this place her rear started to ache like god knows what watching the shadows form and play on the flooring and walls of their homes almost agrivated yet afraid as her foutain of intellegence fluttered in the occulars which were hidden form the from the world behind thick tendrils cascating form her skull. In her mind soon something will happen to them all feeling that sensitiviy that they were used for something more than plain slaves. Her Slender fingers tented holding her chin up pausing again to try to recollect what her name was, the voice soft and liquid like a motion of many trinkets in the wind of colors.

" ...what is my name?"


Utterly confused but yet tired of her mind feelings that were unplaced of what should be there to take heart. Easily knowing she was one of the elderlings brough here a cold shallow place of no love and prosperity what so ever the else of the females at the least as her face keeped form her cell. Arms wrapt about her limber form fingers touching and feeling the odd bumps and indents of the burn markings shuttering coldly they were the shape of wings as her pale fingers felt/. With her pale occulars hidden by the thick locks of hair watching clalously starting to find dispise for the limp lights that hung swinging a litlte bit form the cumbling cleing. it was only the beginning she minded her self only the begining.

a twinkle in ones dying eye

--------

Kill the sig. Warning #1.
-Penguin

Sitting on the nondescript bed he was unsure of where he was, then again he didn't care either, He scanned the room, Easily the oldest he swung up and onto his feet.

Straightening his clothes he sorted out his thoughts.

Who the hell am I?
Where the f#ck am I?
Why am I here?

He mused over these thoughts, he didn't have the answers, it'd be a waste of his time trying to aswer those questuions as well.

The sound of crying drove into his thoughts he looked around a small girl around ten was pouring a river. Shaking his head he sat next to her...

"Hello, Please don't cry" he said

The girl looked at him her eyes wide fearful yet desperately needing someone, he hugged the girl andpicked er up, and continued walking around the room.


He spotted a girl around his age, twilight hair he decided to talk to her, the room was filled with kids.

He reached her cot or bed thing.

"Hello"

(Don't touch my posts again Eva.)

Slowly, a young girl with short, jet-black hair sat up from her bed. One hand crept up to her face to rub her eyes while the other stretched up above the head as she gave a yawn. She then slumped back on the bed and looked around with tired half opened eyes.

Strangely, many in the room were acting strangely. For one, the boy who slept in the cot beside hers had been mumbling to himself for some time before punching hard against the wall, leaving a huge dent on the poor innocent wall.

Her tiny hands snaked to her side almost naturally and groped against her long black hair. Unconsciously, two hands worked together to form a long braid that reached down to lay like a snake on the white sheet that covered the bed. She slowly sat up and yawned again before her mind finally awoke, fully. It was then that questions ran through her mind as quickly as a cannonball.

Who was she?

What was her name?

Why was she there?

She searched her mind for the answers but found none except for the unending darkness that her mind had become. She could not even remember how old she was. She looked around and realized that the others must have felt the same. Perhaps she would be able to understand more about them now.

She sighed and turned back to the unwelcoming bed and decided to go back to sleep. Maybe they would be able to get an explanation about the cause of their mass amnesia later.

Breathing deeply and regularly like one who was asleep, a girl with shoulder-length black hair streaked with brown shifted slightly on her bed. Eyes of the deepest warmest chocolate brown opened to stare at the wall in front of her with the cold intensity of an Arctic iceberg, exuding a maturity that should not belong to one of her age.

One would wonder what the girl had been through to have her mind so early matured, but one could never find the answers with her, for she herself have no recollections of what happened before she woke up. As opposed to the reactions of the other children in the room, she merely seethed with controlled icy fury inside as she pretended to be sleeping.

The questions of 'who am I', 'where am I', 'what am I doing here' had ceased to run in her mind long after she was awake, even as she heard a boy hit the wall with frustration from an obvious source. It was from that little happening, and the many whispered inquiries that she gathered the group of children in the barrack-like room also suffered from amnesia.

She accepted that she had no past memories at all and had proceeded on to wonder how did the relevent people manage to get so many children of around her age together and of course, how and why were their memories erased. She arrived at several conclusions and none of them seemed good. In fact, all of them pointed towards a future she would most likely hate. She almost regretted wondering so much but somehow, she felt that it was not in her habit to regret her actions.

Giving up on pretending to sleep, she sat up and pushed herself back to lean comfortably against the wall and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. Her eyes, her cold and collected but hostile eyes, moved slowly to gaze around the room, taking in every details. She waited, patiently, to see if her musings became true.

Waking...

Did he want to wake up?

What do I want?

Why would he want it one way or the other? Awake or asleep?

How do I know what I want...

He knows who he is, doesn't he?

Who am I...?

With that last thought, a young boy suddenly opened his eyes and sat up as if struck by a bolt of lightning. No one else noticed though. There were others.. Children, some, nearly adults, others. They all had the same blank, vacant expression on their faces that the boy assumed he had as well. He quickly looked around the room, assessing every facet of it as quickly as his eyes flicked over the corners, beds, trunks near aforementioned beds, and other children. No windows. Illumination came from several lights hanging from the ceiling.

A sound.. Harsh, sharp.

One of the other occupants of the curious, barracks-like room had punched the wall, after uttering a loud curse. The boy made a mental note that this one had apparent anger management problems.

What to do....?

This thought was the most important one of all. The boy knew nothing. Well, that's not true. He still knew common things, basic math skills, assessment of situations, had quick thinking.. Still knew what a flower was, for instance. Just memories of himself, he couldn't recall. None of them, no memories at all. His head hurt, felt almost half-full.. An odd feeling, to be sure. Sliding off the bed, he walked to the foot of it and knelt by the green trunk there. It was shut, with a heavy, metal padlock that he couldn't hope to open without a key.

Suddenly wary, he hopped back on the bed, and backed against the wall, trying to keep everyone else in sight at all times. Who were these people, how could he trust them? Sure, they looked like they were in the same situation as him, but it could be a ruse. Intelligent, blue eyes darted around the room, taking everything in at once. No one else had moved.. Much. He'd shut up and pay attention for now, and see what happened.

After all, a small voice in the back of his head said, Information is the best of weapons.

With more and more children awakening, this older girl made some hasty, unbased dissions.

"uh, if no one minds, i'm gunna see where that door leads."

unintrested with the thoroughly explored room. It was the same all over. It looked like military. She had also taken notice that no one knew why they were here or who they were, so perhaps some one outside this building would know. She walked over, feeling most incomfortable in her prepicked clothes. She walked almost all the way to the door, constantly on the alert just incase someone came in, or someone desided to take advantage of her amnesia.

She past by a few more beds, seeing younger children scared without their usual knowledge. The older children seemed more angry then scared, as she jumped at the sound of the pounding the kid gave a wall. She turned around, thinking perhaps it'd be best to make sure nothing more then a wall and a fist got hurt. she then saw another older boy pick up a crying girl. Near the door, she asked again, just to make sure,

"does anyone know whats going on?"

Her voice now louder that everyone was awake for the most part. She looked to the older children, though if she didn't know, why would they?

Images of nothing, black walls enshoruded in even more black filled his dreams. These were the last images the boy remembered before being awakened by crying. His eyes had been shut for so long he struggled to open them with ease. The dream and the room did have something in common. They were completely black, he could hardly see his hands right in front of his face. The only sounds heard were russling of clothes against the beds, and children whimpering and crying. He slowly stared at the bunk on top of him, where a young child was weeping. He saw some dark phantom come up to hug her than walk away.

"Thank God somebody shut her up..." he muttered.

It was then that he realized he had no idea where he was. He had no idea why there were all these children in this dark room. And he certainly had no idea why he was there among them. He tried to move his legs onto the floor, but they like his eyes were stiff and hard to move. He tried to realize what his name was, yet he could not come up with an answer. The answer pondered in his mind like trying to remember an old memory. He moved his hands slowly against his forehead, feeling small bumps across them. Another question that he could not answer.

He now fully stood up, his back sore from the firmness of the bed, almost suitable for a dead man in a mausoleum. Again the room was still black, like his dreams. He rubbed his eyes one last time, and then started to walk around the room, avoiding any children in his way.

Eyes like stone and body like the dead.

Cringing with the lights shining down on his open eyes, his hands rushed up to sheild them. Legs retreating up for the protection of the upper body. Goose bumps covered the body and a shivering started. Blood rushed towards the brain, the face turning red. Eyes of white and hands crossing the chest. A scream escaped the lips to let off the tention of the body. Digging his heels into the bed he pushed down to the edge and spun. Screaming again he threw his hands up with such force his knuckles struck the head bar of the bed. He rolled again to the left and fell of the bed, his head hitting the floor. Uncontrolable spasms took over, fists clenched so tight his nails cut his skin. After a minute he slowly stopped and his body moved no more. Eyes returning to a forward gaze he raised his head.

His blond hair waving back and forth each time he looked around. His breathing was heavy and hoarse, coughing all over the place. His mind was that of a child, empty and dark. All at once his mind was flooded with images of animals, buildings, planes, names, words, places. Like a computer bank kicking on he blinked a few times before looked arond again. He tried to remember how he got here with all these other kids. Nothing came to mind so he started to make up reasons why he was here. He knew all there was to know but he did not know himself. His callus covered hands ran through his hair then down the back of his head. He looked around at the beds that littered the area then at his own.

He did not know his true purpose, none of these people did. He was like a drop of dew on a new morning. He fell back down to the bed and stared at the ceiling covered with the lights that only moments before were his only enemy in this world. Putting his left arm over his eyes he was again asleep. His breath was now calm and collect, the horaseness had stopped. Though he found no comfort in the waking room he would find none in the dreams he would soon have and in his future days.

Her sapphire eyes slid open to see the dull, grey ceiling. She could feel the rough sheets covering her thin body. She sits up and a chill runs down her spine.

"No clothes..."

She notices a grey uniform sitting on a trunk at the end of the bed along with some plain white undergarments.

"Whose are these...? Are they mine...?"

Seeing no other alternative to her nakedness, she dresses herself and sits back down on her bed. Taking a look around the room, she sees many other boys and girls. She recognizes none of them and when she tries to think of herself, she cannot recall anything.

"My name...? My home...? My parents...?
No, I have no name. This is my home."

She looks at the men standing guard at the only exit of the room. Both of them wear similar uniforms to her own. They are big, scary men. The kind you see in movies. They carry small black machines. Guns? No, not guns. Sticks. Sticks with small forks on the end. She takes a lock of her hair in her hand.

"Red. So, that is what I look like...

"Die Dame" watched them come back to the world of the living through the monitor with more than a passing amusement. It had taken her and her father quite a while to locate and gather suitable children for their benefactors. She estimated eighty percent were the type of person... no, specimen, that she had hoped for. A smile crept its way onto her usually stoic lips, and she looked down at her father, sitting in his wheelchair. His ancient, pale face held a smile as well. "Die Dame's" smile grew all the wider, amused that even if her father would live long enough to see his new specimens graduate, he would never see them in action. He would never see the fruits of their labor.

She turned her gaze to the only other person standing in the room. The young female drone stood perfectly erect, her hands at her side, her eyes blank and devoid of emotion. Zuerst, by name, Die Dame had her to thank for getting them this far. Zuerst was pretty, her long, brown silk-like hair was neatly trimmed, her dark-skinned body was expertly crafted by Die Dame herself. She looked innocent, and thats how Die Dame wanted it. Just like these children now...

A humming in the distance broke her train of thought. Helicopters from her benefactor were nearing her complex. Zuerst looked up at her master, and nodded. She walked behind the old man and took the wheelchair's handle bars. "Die Dame" walked to the lone door outside her observation chamber and slipped a keycard through the door's electronic lock. A accepting chime rang as the door popped open. The desert's heat hit her pale skin hard, but the doctor shook her head through it.

The helicopters were already making their final approach, and the lone trio waited for the two helicopters to make their landing. The larger of the two, the Puma HC-1 transport helcopter landed first, choosing a spot near the bases fuel supply tank. The Huey landed shortly after, alongside the Puma. The Puma's back doors and armed men, mercenaries most likely, piled out. They moved in pairs, carring large sealed containers between them. Stacking them up a respectable distance from the choppers, they fell into rank. A man who looked like he was the veteran of some war or some such started shouting out orders, sending his men scurring off in different directions setting up camp. "Die Dame" counted sixteen men in all, and moved like navy seals. The cream of the crop, just like her benefactors had promised.

The Huey's door opened. A broad shouldered, tall man wearing sunglasses and a black tux stepped out first, and surveyed the landscape. And stepped off to the side, cupping his hands behind his bad. Next a cultured man, thin and of respectable height stepped out. He wore a long flowing trenchcoat, off-purple in color. He cradle a cigerette between two fingers, and looked apathetically out on the desolate landscape. "Die Dame" took his appearance as her cue, and she approached him, arms held out wide.

"Guten tag, Herr McGuire!" Die Dame greeted wholesomely, as if they were old friends. "Vit iz ann honor vat--"

"Where are they?" McGuire cut off the good doctor.

Another occupent of the Huey made her way out the door. A tall caucasion woman looking to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She wore a respectable buisness suit, blue-grey in color, that did more to hide her striking beauty than most women would allow. Her long brown hair hung past her ample cleavage to just above a butt almost any woman on the planet would kill to have. She flicked her hair out of her face to behind her ear.

"Die Dame" watched her get off the helicopter. "Ov course, Herr, right thiz vay," she put out her hand, gesturing to her specimens sleeping qaurters. The doctor gave a nod to the commander of the mercenaries and lead the newcomers, along with her father being pushed by Zuerst.

The VIP's stood in a line about fifteen feet from the door while the mercenaries took up their stations. The Lietenant, as his men refered to him as, stood protectively in front of the VIP's in his charge. He gave a nod to one of his men, as they opened up the door to the barracks.

The wave of heat engulfed the barracks and mercilessly rolled over the children. Easily it was over a hundred degrees outside, and it poured upon them with almost an sentinent glee. About six men, each brandishing a rifle of odd design, rushed into the room. The roared orders, but were drowned up by the frightened cries of the children, especially the younger ones. Two more men rushed into the room, roughly pulling kids out of the havens of their beds, shoving and kicking them out into the bright world that invaded their mysterious haven.

Snorted in the tension it was so palpable she could taste this in the air waves, oculars darted to and for before she got up and made her way to the male whom started towards her only to be silenced with all the hoarse shouts from the house side and the jingle of the lights. The femme's cranium tilted up wards looking at the fine white dust that fell from the ceiling and the lights that swayed erratically from the movement of the earth still pondering before, the screams of younger children arose form their small throats. The doors peeled open like an orange with a flow of bright sunlight form the out side world which was new watching as men ran in with their strange automated weapons howling out orders as they grabbed children whom were still sleeping on the uncomfortably stiff bed and in to the blast of razor sharp heat. This heat was sticky like an inferno form the chilled burgs of the sleeping barracks of the children, it blasted each in a stove like appearance ready to bake their tender flesh till dry from the UV rays that the sun spurted form its mass of flame. The Femme opened her mouth to scream in this unknown horror and the light that blinded the stunning oculars of rich scarlet and strands of gold as her medium sized frosty arm was grabbed roughly from where her feet planted it felt so desolate no love no hope yet again spinning her around yelling at her to move and shoving her in to another elder childe with an oof. Her breath sucked in fluxed by thick dust swirling like vagabonds of gold and platinum, her flesh tingled in this unknown either of the fear an emotion so new and strange scared as children screamed with her own mouth silent as smaller children seemed to give her the smallest of glances as if it was going to save them what was going to happen next on a journey of life.


They were hurtled forward like a group of cattle all different sizes some a bit roudned others scraggly each looked so different form their nations and lives before their thievery form their parents. They all seemed to run she was only following at the slower pace with all the other seemingly her age children blinking her oculars of russet at the new sights taking it in soaking it in like information on a sponge. Noting the people whom stood showing this as if they were important and better than them, her lips quivered as she mumbled inauditably to ones tuned ears as fear seemed to give them a sick charge from smaller children. tilting her cranium about in intrest a silent one not speaking duskily after the jubilee of excitement which was also happy for them at the least part looking up at the crisp sky and over her shoulder at the chidlern whom were following up after the elders and a few youngers. Speckles of small lighted dots dismally fluttered around her face in her vision of the stroke of the heat of the desert reigon observing more and sampling the dry air with her tongue poking out a litlte bit drowned out with words of others. Her audits listened idly at the words from the children as the adults howled at each other well the ones with guns as it was knowingly that would not settled them down of their passionate tears. New emotions stirring up form their crevases of the soul as her lips curled in a quiet smirk in a thought of a better place before it as returned to a dry flat line as her thick lashes quivered over her eyes.



Still Watching the "adults" form a corner of the odd red swirling fahtomless eyes like choice prime cut rubies or garnets observing their motions and ways of speech as if she could figure out or place little name tags on each person. Brows quirked about only to know that something was happening.


Another twinkle in that dying eye

The girl turned quickly, being closest to the doors, feeling the heat first. She was nearly instantly dragged out by the blury guards. She meerly shouted
"hey! i can walk!" and shoved the guards hands off her arms, walking outside. She looked at the adults
"can you tell me what the he*l is going on?" she asked with some ignorance to their position. She looked rather calm faced with what was going on, and looked in
"um, i hope your guards are well trained." She watched, knowing some of the other older kids wouldn't come as easily. She looked out
"why are we in the desert? i'm as pale as someone whos never seen the light of day. Why are we in the desert?" her previous display of calm was gone to intence curiousity. She turned a circle, looking around
"this is the military isn't it?" she kept turning, not waiting for an answer as kids began to file in beside her. She bent and rolled up her pant legs and sleeves, not paying attentiont to uniformaty. She bent up again, squinting in the bright sun
"i'm guessing i don't get many answers today, huh?" she said still looking around.

The boy had been lost in his own thoughts, only pretending to be still asleep. His heavy breathing gave away his consciousness, though.

I don't understand anything any more. I used to be on top of the world. I used to know exactly what was going on with my life, or at least, I thought I did. Now I have no clue what's happening. Would I rather take and believe the illusions I once believed in?

No, he answered himself. No matter how painful it really is, I have to know the truth. Without truth, I'm only living something false, something of a dream. I need more than that. I want to be alive, dammit! I can only live if I know...

He was roused from his false sleep by armed men bursting through the door. They moved from bed to bed, quickly rousing every child present. I know I need to accept that I don't know everything. It's not supposed to be my fate to know my own destiny.

That doesn't quell my desire, though. I need to know! I need to be in control of my own life! I can't stand living like this! I'm going insane already without any knowledge. I need to know, dammit!

I need to know...

A sharp pain to his side awoke the young man, he cried out in pain. Gripping the side that surged for a moment he looked up to see a man with what looked to be a gun at first sight, repeat what he had done to him a moment ago. He stood up and saw the rest of the room was moving towards a set of double doors. On either side was a guard pushing the kids out into the bright light of the morning. Moving with the crowd he inched his way closer and closer to the door with ever step.

The moment his face met with the sun he gasped at the heat and put his hands up. Almost every other child was doing the same, the younger of the crowd begain to cry. His eyes were not adjusted to the light and even when he opened them it was a blur. He left his eyes closed and just continued to walk. Soon he did not feel the once swarm of people around him, he opened his left eye only to be met with a strike to the face. He wobbled back as his nose became warm and he felt somthing slide down.

" Stay with the group! " yelled the person.

The blow had knocked him off balance and he could no longer stand. Drifting backwards his butt struck first, coming down hard on his back and then hitting his head on the hot ground. The moment his neck was even close to the rocky surface he sat up again with a yelp from the heat of the ground. He was grabbed roughly by the arms and dragged back to the noise that was the group. He was shoved inwards and disappeared from sight a moment later. He put his hand to his face and wiped what he thought to be blood away and rubbed it on his pants leg. Putting his right hand up to stop the blood from flowing anymore he stood around the area they had gathered...

Adults rushed in roughly pulling kids outside out of their beds herding them like sheep, One man headed straight for him, raising his hands up he walked toward the line of kids.

"Damn where the hell did she get too" he whispered, as the little girl he was carrying snuggled deeper into him her crying was silent he felt slightly saddened by her tears as they trickled down his neck.

Outside he walked, and yet another man walked up too him
"Put the girl down she can walk"

"No" the teen whispered.. only to find himself crumpled up, a swift blow to the stomach.

"The kid can walk" the man said and walked away.

Being herded into a group they were being lined up, it seemed youngest too oldest, He smiled at the girl he had carried and nodded as she was putt into her place. Knowing he'd be up at the end he knew simply because the was taller he assumed he was older.

Casually strolling to where he assumed his spot was, another man shook his head.

"You stand there" he said and pointed. Right next too the girl he had been about too speak too. He walked over and stood.

"Hello again"

He still wondered what the hell was going on here, His mind roiled, maybe just maybe his whole life had been this? No impossible, he'd remember wouldn't he? But but but... his mind burned with curiousity but he kept it in xheck he tried to show no sign of his inner struggle. He kept his face blank and calm. His pale features like a marble statue.

Why? he wondered Did I ever have memories? Is this real? or a dream? Or is everhing false he wondered... he could feel his mid shattering.... easier too just stop thinking... adapt or die. No he'd continue too think but he knew he would adapt or die.

She felt a desire to please these adults. She did whatever she was told without asking. The heat was unbearable, but she did her best to cope. Her sweat matted her long red hair and it stuck to her clothes and skin. She licked the saltiness off of her lips and kept in line with the others. Those who didn't obey or fell behind were beaten without any remorse. She knew that as long as she obeyed and showed no weakness, she wouldn't be harmed. Maybe they would praise her for it.

"I'm not going to be weak like them. I'm strong. I can keep going. This desert can't hurt me. I'm stronger than this heat..." she repeats this to herself over and over.

Not once did she question why she was here. Why she couldn't remember anything. She knew there was a perfectly good reason for it. She wouldn't complain or ask why. That would be a sign of weakness. Wouldn't it?

The young boy didn't know what to think as the soldiers (He thought that was the best word to describe them. Men in nearly-matching uniforms, with guns, quick and sure movements, too well-coordinated to be anything but.), burst into the building and began forcing the children outside. The ones that leaped up and went without argument didn't get more than a violent shove out the door. Others were literally beaten. Punched, kicked, thrown out the doorway into the blinding light, and the blistering heat. And oh, the heat! The room must have had some form of air conditioning, for when the door was opened, the temperature outside forced it's way in, hot enough to make the boy immediatley start sweating. As of now, he was blinking rapidly to keep the stinging, salty liquid out of his eyes. He was up and out of his bed before the men reached him. He had no intention of getting hurt like some of the foolish ones, the ones who didn't do as they were told without delay. When a large soldier arrive at his bed and moved to grab him, he nimbly sidestepped the reaching hand and bounded for the door before the man could turn and strike him, losing himself in the crowd of the other children and men. He heard the man who had tried to grab him curse, but he ignored it. Outside, the light nearly blinded him, and he had to squint to see much. He'd have to wait until his vision adjusted to the drastic change. There were several important-looking people surrounded by more armed men, whom he assumed were the cause of their rude awakening, and probably the cause of their detainment in the first place. He was in no position to ask questions, though.

When the children were roughly formed into a line, he didn't resist, just quickly got into place, once again, before any of the men had a chance to touch him.
I won't be part of their game, he thought to himself, as he shoved the anger and fear he felt into one of the far corners of his mind, mentally sealing his emotions off as surely as you sealed money in a safe, to prevent it from causing trouble. The same applied here. I'll figure their game out, he continued thinking, his mind, having absolutely nothing besides the current situation to think about, quickly came up with. If I figure it out, I can get through this much more easily, with less hassle, and probably less pain. No time to think. React, do what they say. If I'm fast enough, smart enough, I'll get out of here. Right now, his primary concern was on the adults around him, he blocked the other children out as completely as he could, ignoring the crying, the whimpers of fear, the raised voices asking what was going on. He wouldn't fall to their level. He wouldn't be used as a pawn in this game. No, he'd play the game himself.

Your move. He thought, looking straight at the people in the middle of the circle of guards, his lips turning up in a slight grin.

The girl with black hair streaked with chocolate did as she was told in a docile manner when she saw the treatment of the children who resisted. Her impressive brown eyes was dark and clear of thoughts, as well as unphantomably passive. She behaved every bit like an obedient puppet as she, along with the other children, was herded out of the room they woke up in.

So I was right... but like somebody once said, knowing doesn't make this any more pleasant. In fact, I may fare better by being ignorant. For a moment there, she regretted her advanced thinking but she gave it a firm mental shake. Still, at least I know what may happen and can be mentally prepared for it. Even if it is death...

As her thoughts became pessimistic, she jerked herself out of the darkness in her mind violently. No! I will not let myself die! Not until I find out what is all this about. I will survive. I must survive! I'll do anything to survive until I know the truth, until I get back my stolen memories. I will not die. I will not let the people who steal my past to have the satisfaction of destroying my life. I will not die.

Even as she made a grim determined promise to herself, she moved to line up with the others obediently and pulled herself out of her thoughts. Silently and inconspiciously observing her surroundings and the people around, she noticed the blond boy standing beside her looking at a certain direction. She turned and search out his focus, out of curiosity and saw a group of seemingly important people.

How interesting. She noted as she discreetly made observations of both the boy and the group of people, as she waited for whatever that would happen to happen.

[OOC: Pengu, your cue ^^;; please help me control my char if something urgent happened while I'm away ^^;; sorry to trouble you and thanks in advance XD]

She moaned and turned to her side when she felt the heat coming into contact with her delicate skin.

"Someone turn on the fan please..." she mumbled, curling up into a ball.

She was barely reaching the gates of dreamland again when suddenly, a large hand gripped onto her silky hair and dragged her away from the white bed, onto the dusty ground.

She screeched and flailed for a moment before feeling her body dropped onto the cold, hard floor. Clutching tightly on her precious hair, she looked frightfully at the owner of the hand.

"W-what is g-going on?" she stuttered as she looked at the big burly man.

She was met with an impassive face and another kick to the side. The implication was clear. She wasn't supposed to ask anything, but to follow them.

Understanding what it meant, she stood up, her body still quivering in fear, and half jogged to where the other children in the room were. Her head was still sore and her eyes were slightly teary. However, she did not do anything but to follow the others, feeling just too tired to do anything else.

The sun burned his naked back, the sand intensely hot began to burn his palms, yet the boy still did his pushups, he was nearing 100 a small pool of sweat stained the sand underneath him, his arms shook.. his body not used too such exertion

His arms gave way, he collapsed in mid push falling to the sand, too tired to care he lay therethe sand burning his chest it didn't matter pain racked his body already he was beyond the point of caring
The sound of a boot crunching in the sand brought him back to the harsh reality


Before he could resume his excrcises the boot smashed into his ribs, once twice three times

The boy snapped, his anger at this abuse at the treatment of himself and the others overflowed a burst of adrenaline kicked in, He got up and threw a punch.
Hawkeye Reaver: The guard not expecting retaliation was caught unaware, the fist smashing into the jaw and lip, knocking him onto the ground
Hawkeye Reaver: From behind two guards rushed up and smashed into the boy, batons pounding at his kidneys the guard he had hit got back up snarling blood trickling down his chin

"Stupid kid" he growled his foot drew back and connected savagely with the boys face.

The boy lay there on the sand bruised and beaten... the guards moved on.

As he lay there he felt a pair of arms wrap around him.....

The VIP's looked on in silence as the children were herded out in front of them. "Die Dame" clicked her tongue in annoyance at the harsh treatment of her specimens. "Colonel, do be gentle vith the specimens." The colonel said nothing but his men spread out, leaving only the giant of a man colonel between the VIP's and a staggered line of children.

McGuire, along with a beautiful women, stood silent, their icy gaze silencing many of the crys and moans of the children. They seemed to dissect the children with a sort of stoic glee. "Their memories...?"

"Gone, ov course," the women in the white remarked proudly. "All, but procedural processies."

"Have you named them yet?" the pretty woman spoke up. McGuire's gaze snapped to her, but at the same time he lost none of his culture. The woman shrank back a bit. The more individuality granted to these specimens, the more unstable they become, McGuire knew that all to well. But he supposed it could not be helped. The cultured man nodded to Die Dame, who smiled.

"My predecessor, Scythe Master's naming system vas adequete, so..." Die Dame pointed to one end of the line. "Ein, Zwei, Drei, Vier, Fünf..." She named each child. No not named, titled, each child down the line.

For the first time, the children could visibly see the cultured looking man cringe. Despite the intense heat, the trenchcoat, and the plethora of armed men around him, the cultured man showed no discomfort. Until, that is, the german woman spoke the word Ein, even more so when she said Zwei. He remained silent and still until she spoke Vierundzwan, titling the final young girl in the line.

At the cultured mans side, sat a old man in a wheel chair, behind him was a girl of comparable age to the "specimens." The young girl was busy writing on a notepad, probabley recording the names of the children.

Die Dame looked up at the cultured man when she finished. The cultured man gingerly brought his cigerette back to his lips, and the german's smile grew wider. She nodded to the young girl behind the wheelchair. The girl came to stand beside the older german woman.

Die Dame threw her arms out wide. "Welcome, children, to the Valley of Death."

"You v'all obviously 'ave meny questions," the german slipped her hands into her back pockets. "Vee first veing who you are, yes? To answer, iz simple." She flicked her hair out of her side, "Vu are a tool. Vat you once vere, iz gone. From vis dah, vu are... well, ve will get to vat in time."

"But, I am a... fair person. So, if vu vant me to return your life to you, all you have to do iz," she paused, and pointed to the cultured man, "Kill that man v'ere." The cultured man did not make a move, indeed he did not even looked feared. The large, broad-shouldered man in a tux made to move to block McGuire but stopped wit a wave of his hand.

"So, veny takers?" She asked innocently.

She was staring at the woman in white curiously when suddenly, a long finger pointed at the first person on the line and said, " Ein." and viered it to the right where she said " Zwei." and continued to steer it to the right, saying "Drei.". It continued on until it reached the last person in the line.

What exactly was that for? she thought to herself and pulled out, in her mind, the previous scene that she had seen,

"My predecessor, Scythe Master's naming system vas adequete," she had said. So these are our names? Then whats mine? I think i remember a little. Was it Neu or Neur? she thought, her mind pulling out yet another picture, the one which the lady had said all those strange little words.

Oh right! Its Neun! she thought, her mind dancing in excitement. She was almost lost in it until the woman spoke again.

"Welcome children, to the Valley of Death." she said, throwing her arms wide in front of her.

The valley of Death? What's that? Neun asked mentally.

Her attention was caught again when the lady began to speak again.

"You v'all obviously 'ave meny questions, vee first veing who you are, yes? To answer, iz simple.Vu are a tool. Vat you once vere, iz gone. From vis dah, vu are... well, ve will get to vat in time." she said.

As the accent in her voice had slightly altered the words, it was hard to decipher them and some of them, Neun could not even understand. She struggled to hear more when the lady continued yet again.

"But, I am a... fair person. So, if vu vant me to return your life to you, all you have to do iz," she paused and raised her long and bony finger to point at the man beside her, " Kill that man v'ere."

WHAT??!! Neun thought frantically. She wants us to kill?? She had understood most of what the lady had said, and knew that the idea of being able to get free was all too enticing. The price to pay, however, was definitely too much. She would rather stay.

"So, veny takers?" The lady asked.

This woman, Neun thought, is definitely crazy. Who would kill just to get free?It's impossible.

She was proved wrong, however, a second later as a boy whose build was almost twice of hers shot out from the group, straight at the man.

"Give me back my life!" he shouted as he approached the unmoving man.

[OOC: I hope i did this right. If there are any errors or wrongs, please do correct me. + If anyone wants to take the boy, feel free to.]

"Give me back my life! Crazy witch!" The boy, numbered Zwolf, charged headlong. However, he did not charge at the cultured man; he directed his attentions toward Die Dame. He drew back his fist and let out a real rocket of a punch aiming directly at Die Dame's face.

"Hmph. Zee boy eez crazy," she audibly muttered, unperturbed. She grabbed the boy's wrist, stopping him in his tracks. The boy kicked hard with his right foot, but Die Dame knocked it aside with a deft movement of her own left foot. As soon as that foot was on the ground again, she delivered a swift kick to the boy's gut. He groaned and fell onto all fours. A kick to his face finally caused him to collapse, spurts of blood leaking out his nostrils.

"Zat, leetle cheeldren, eez vat happens to those who oppose zer fate. It is futile to resist. Any other takers?"

The remaining children only sat in awe. Die Dame snapped her fingers, and the guards roughly picked up the unconscious boy and deposited him in the empty space in line, dropping him three feet to the ground.

-----------

Kill the sig. Warning #2.
-Penguin

"o so we can ask questions now? um!" the girl raised her hand "i only have two questions that haven't been answered yet, uh, is there any water for the next 5 miles, and whats my name again?" she said, otherwise unmoving, realizing emotions wouldn't be a good thing now. She put her arms behind herself, clasping them and rubbing her ring finger, wishing she had a ring to run around it with.

The woman answered her questions sharply, and Zehn put her head down, trying to memorise her own name "i don't like this. We're like, numbered." she mumbled then spoked up again "are those numbers?" she asked as she kept playing with her left ring finger, her legs together as she awaited what was to happen next.

She looked down the line of numbered children "this is weird" she thought to herself. "i wish i could say i wanna go home, but i don't even know if it was a good home to return to," She finally gave up and looked ahead, her eyes loosing all sense of emotion. If she was going to be a tool, she might as well start acting like one and make it easier on herself.

Die Dame regained her composure after Zwolf's attack, but she looked far from put off. She smiled at the fallen boy. That one was definately one she was looking for. She had estimated that a twenty percent margin of error concerning choosing the right specimens, and was convinced he was not part of it. Ironic, and Die Dame would have to thank her father for forcing her to take all those Judo classes as a child.

However, back to buisness. "Zat, leetle cheeldren, eez vat happens to those who oppose zer fate. It is futile to resist. Any other takers?"

She shrugged off Zehn questions and looked over at her benefactor who looked unconvinced. "Now, vor a proper demunstraution." The young brunette at Die Dame's side stepped forward. "Sieben, Acht, come vorward!" Die Dame had high hopes for those two since she first aducted them. "This is Zuerst, my mozt prized creation." Die Dame introduced the young girl. Zuerst was pretty, about the same age as Sieben and Acht, but shorter. But despite that, she wasn't like them, that much the two girls could tell. Her gaze, her glare, seemed inhuman. The cultured man and the soldiers were cold to be sure, and the german's were cruel, but her gaze... it seemed to cut right through anyone who obstructed it. She wore a black skin tight suit, although the children could make out what it was made of, which were cut off at the knees and just under the shoulders. Around her neck, she wore a matching collar.

Just when things couldn't have gotten more cruel, the girls, Acht and Sieben, saw Zuerst reach behind her back with both hands. What the heard just before she pulled them out in front of her was a ringing of steel on leather. Two bowie knives suddenly appeared in front of the girls. The blades of the knives, about three inches long, stuck into the ground, the hilt suspend into the sky.

A few murmurs from the soldiers betrayed to the others that they were looking forward to what was going to happen next. Die Dame, merely shrugged. "Girlz," She spoke coolly, "Fight or die."

Zuerst, without a word, reached behind her head and drew a smaller knife from a sheath she had hidden in the collar. She reversed the grip, and took a low stance, knee's bent, blade held far out in front of her defensively.

McGuire, the benefactor, looked on silently.

So my name will be Acht from now on... The female black-haired girl rolled the word on her tongue several times after it was said by the heavily accented woman. Isn't it 'eight' in German? How nice, at least it's a number, not a series of them.

She watched and listened intently to what the woman said, not wanting to miss anything out. Everything and anything could be important to just about everything and anything. Valley of Death... appropriate. If these people are doing any of what I suspect they will be doing, this place just may become a graveyard.

Acht was not even the least bit surprised when the woman asked that they kill the cultured-looking man who cringed when they, the children without memories, were being named. She thought briefly if what the woman asked for was just a test and found the possibility of it being very high. That was enough reason for her to remain where she was.

The attack on the woman was not unexpected and how the boy, whose name she could not remember yet, was treated was certainly expected. Acht nearly sneered when she heard the girl named Zehn asked questions were most unlikely to be answered. However, she was surprised by the command that called her out. She obeyed nonetheless.

Flatly, she looked as Zuerst, cold blade-eyed Zuerst, pulled out two knives and sticking them onto the ground very quickly. Flatly, she stared at the sharp blades even as she heard the order for her and the other girl named Sieben to kill. Still as flatly, she darted forward and jerked out one of the knives, then looked up at the one she was supposed to kill.

Sorry, but I'm not going to killed today. Acht thought even as she began surveying her opponent, her dark brown eyes giving off no hint of thoughts, emotions or warmth.

[OOC: Okay, let's see what you'll do, Sammy ^^ Don't hurt my character too much, okay? ^^;; Anything short of permanently damaged will be just fine.]

Zwei titled her cranium to the side as her pale oculars stared for like shimming depths watching the actions of the others and how the adults reacted to it noting and filing these things in to her mind as the bodice of the 16 year old female shivered in large quakes that seemed to make her pale frosty flesh ripple out in goose bumps. Watching the display in a loose affection to it all listening to the welcomes and the names that were handed out like T.V Violence on toast lips pursed in a thin line watching the cultured man named McGuire cringe at each name driven in to each childs mind as if it was a horrible thing like watching a mass genocide of one days worth of bagels. Here it would be anything as if one had a horrible itch they couldn't get no one else would do it for them they were surrounded by the scape of rolling sand and barbed cacti that stood ridgid holding its water a natural survival tactic. Noting somethings about others and craven it to her mind inside her body she smiled but out side she was dying of the misrable heat that skrimished each child in a stoic caress of death, still as Zwei asked the quesiton in a tropical slurring over each letter she spoke.

" Madame.......why did you choose us over other childern that seemed more of a possiblity........even if we were to succeed in getting our past lives back......where would be go from then? in to the death trape of sand and no water and the fry of sun?"

How she spoke was broken up erratic almost, she wasn't perfect no it wasn't a stutter but a human speech driven by the internal ecosystem that was slowly giving in to the sticky air that rolled in through the windpipe. Oculars half open hued of rich reds and stringed golds almsot alight in a deahtly gleed under her clothing her muscles slack even though Zwei never batted an eye at the German female waiting for an answer to the speech of question spooring form her mouth. Her Bodice's design was so for from simple to pretend she was a meek shy emotionless creature with out memories only to have fuzzy images wreak havoc in her brain only to know and store them for later uses of face, seemingly shy but not at all seemingly soft and unusefull for combat wasn't so. Zwei before this all was brought up in a family that wante dher ot be strong to defend her self and stand up for what she belived in and what was right and wrong that was for ever shaved in her habits. what was Defend and standing up was placed in through out the years since five years of age a list of Swords Fighting, Akido, and other arts of combative skill levels including one that seemed to teach instead of the knives she soon forgotten to fight with old fans an uneasy task now locke dinside of her all of it. unknowning of it all.


Still inside here were the fighting reglias that were hard to erase form simple drugs and hypnosis, as her back was straight wathcing formt he thick tendrils of twilight as a fight was going to brew from the forceful words of the German and her mockery to show off and see what would happen to the two females. A flicker of her pink tongue over frosty peach lips contrasting to a pallid mocha flesh that wrapt about her skeletal frame, and muscles with organs and cirtulatory system. Thoughts flickered like pyreflies in and out of her mind one ear and out the other as her fingers twitched nervously almost it would seem but not exactly needing the movement once again before her body went in stablisis of daydreaming. Drived up was a gurgle from her belly eyes widened from the half moon stasis as a hand floated over the belly seemingly unkowning what she hungered, still as the eyes reverted back down half opened the pupils strange pinpricks hidden by thick tendrils of pale twilight hair milky and soft as lips like budding roses of a mixtured sunset parte din a thin heavy breath that rolled off her tongue.


Zwei looked to her sides noticing another one of the childern named of the german word of five, He didn't look childish at all in her odd eyes more like tall and almost lanky dark black hair and iced eyes that seemed to be cut from glaciers. It seemed her gaze was observing his facial structures smiling only a little bit feeling the motions of gaurds that moved switftly about like wraith ghosts haunting an old building. Adoration or seemingly intrest in how the male was, or what he was he was the one whom spoke to her in that seemingly lavish bunker of plywood beds and noodle like lights and their zttt of lightbulbs. Still nothing held her attention for long besides the fight and the withdrawl of metallic blades that crunched in to the compacted dirt below their feet a small gulp of her throat as her head tilted more about swiveling observing each individual in a 25 feet radius which was all of them pretty much as the air simmered over the rolling rills of burning sand.

Images danced in the slivers of death smiling on her placid lips rare to amusement as a hawk circled over head a large looming shadow as Zwei looked up to sheild her eyes from the light. Loving the shrill cry it proluded from its beak as it wheeled over head waiting like vultures that were soon to arrive if they left the body behind for the midnight scavengers of the sea of dead sand. Zwei grunted as relatity snapt back in her mind now watching the two figures of the females looking at each othe rin narrow eyes with thought sof I am not going to die.

A dance of death and midnight scavengers.

Sieben totally ignores her knife. Picking it up would waste time. With a blood-chilling scream, Sieben tackles the other girl to the ground, pinning both her arms to the ground with her hands. Sieben's face is twisted into a sadistic grin, her eyes hollow and totally devoid of emotion.

"Die die die die die die die!" screams Sieben.

The two of them fight over the knife, fumbling with each other's hands in order to gain control of the blade. Sieben didn't think she'd have to resort to childish means of fighting, but, the situation called for it. Sieben slowly raises her head upwards and violently brings her forehead down on her opponent's face. The shock was more than enough to loosen the other girl's grip on the knife. Sieben grabs the blade and moves it ever so closer to the other girl's throat. Both her hands are on the hilt of the knife, while the other girl uses both hands to stop the knife from getting any closer to her throat.

"I'm going to be the best, no matter what! And I'll kill anyone who gets in my way!" screams Sieben.

She releases her hold on the girl and hurls the knife directly at the head of the man that, moments before, Die Dame had instructed them to kill.

"DIE!"

Zuerst recovered much faster from the head-butt than Sieben had thought possible, and faster than any girl of her frame could have. Zuerst ducked low as the knife was pulled away from her throat and tucked her hand behind her back as Sieben prepared to throw the blade. When Sieben's hand snapped forword, her target the cultured man, Zuerst own hand snapped upwards, clipping Sieben's wrist mid-throw. The blade launched directly into the air, and Zuerst moved her own hand behind Sieben's left knee, jerked forward, while at the same time slammed her shoulder into the taller girl's stomach.

The airborne blade landed a scant few inches in front of the cultured man's foot, about the same time Zuerst brought Sieben to the ground. The world was a blur for Sieben, as Zuerst pounced into the air. The silent girl came down, fist hammering once between Sieben's breasts... then again. Reality spun for the fallen Sieben, as she teetered on unconciousness.

Zuerst turned to Acht, her expression unchanged. Cold, emotionless, inhuman. Slowly she started to approach the knife-bearing Acht, the image of her opponent locked in her eyes.

Die Dame cackled. Not because Zuerst had won, but because Sieben had put up so good a fight. Zuerst was rarely caught off gaurd, and the german woman couldn't recall her every being so cleanly disarmed before. Yes, she was correct in her hopes for Sieben. That brutality Sieben displayed... that primal instinct... *that* was a thing of beauty. Yes, she and Zuerst would shape that one into a work of art. The german doctor looked over at McGuire, who himself was staring blankly at the knife impedded in the rock-sand at his feet. She could tell, even with his blank, seemingly disinterested expression, that he was harboring similar thoughts.

The demonstration was going well.

She fights well. And very fast. Acht watched Zuerst quietly and unobtrusively as Sieben was defeated. One could say that her presence can equate to that of air; you can know it is there but you will not pay particular attention to it until you need it.

But now, the 'air' was starting to brew violence in its depth as it was hostilely locked on. Acht could not only see, but feel Zuerst's predatory stare and she returned it with her habitual indifferent and blank gaze. Carefully noting the distance and moving stance of Zuerst's approach, Acht switched the knife in her hand to a backward hold which she found more accustomed to and sprinted forward.

The blade of the knife went for whichever part of Zuerst that was in front and missed. Acht anticipated it and leaped back out of range. In actual fact, Acht planned to miss, so that she could judge how fast was Zuerst's reflexes. The answer was not optimistic but she had discovered that her own speed was not too bad. Instinctively she crouched into a low fighting stance that came naturally to her, for reasons she may never be able to discover. Her weaponless hand reached down and wrenched the remaining knife on the ground out quickly, her chocolate eyes never once leaving her opponent.

With a sudden burst of speed, she charged at Zuerst again, but this time round, aiming to inflict damage. Her body was kept low to the ground out of nature and with her centre of gravity and balance well-maintained, she utilized her speed in ways she did not realize she knew. Slashes, well-aimed and well-measured slashes, flashed towards parts of Zuerst's legs, especially the knees, as Acht made nimble moves away from Zuerst's blows. However, Acht knew that the stalemate will not last long and she pushed herself faster.

Determination flashed once and disappeared behind the chocolate-colour round masks called eyes, as Acht's attacks got faster. Even if she was going down like Sieben, she would not allow herself to be taken down without taking some of her opponent's blood with her.

Zehn tried to be emotionless as the girls were called forward. She tried as the first to attack fell, and she gave up when the last began to battle. She cheered once for Acht, but was quickly silence by Die Dame's cold glare.

She blushed a little, and continued to watch, learning about Acht's techniques and the other girl's, trying to observe as much as she could. She didn't know if she knew how to fight, so why chance it? She gave herself a proud imaginary pat on the back as she realized how well she was taking it in and remembering what was happening. Perhaps she could be intelligence rather then the brute force, she hoped.

Her eyes darted around, following the fighters carefully, making a quick mental note of each attack and each counter. They were equally matched, at least at the beginning. Eventually one girl fell in a swirl of similar clothing. Zehn had to actually think about who had fallen, and wasn't entirely surprised that it had been Acht after all. Zehn hugged her arms and looked again up to Die Dame, wondering what would be next.

Zwolf finally awoke from his unconsciousness to find himself lying down, with the other children standing around him. They were not watching him, though. Their attentions were trained fully in front of them.

Grimacing, and finding it difficult to breathe through his nose, Zwolf stood up and looked to see what was going on. As near as he could tell, he was a spectator at some sort of arena. Sieben had already been felled by someone, he wasn't sure who, and was lying in a similar position as he himself had been. Only Sieben was being treated by a doctor; Zwolf could tell he had not been treated.

Currently in the ring were Acht and another one of Die Dame's officials; he hadn't caught the name. Zwolf saw that Acht was putting up a very good fight; he would have to study her tactics, her body movements, to see if he could learn from her. His humiliation at the hands of Die Dame had increased his resolve, his passion to fight.

Zwolf wanted nothing more than to escape, to return to his former life, whatever it had been. He wanted to remember, but that would be too much to ask. However, if he ever were to escape, he would have to learn to fight, and fight well.

(OOC: I guess I'm sorta late. Didn't get accepted for awile though. Any way, here's my opening post.)

Sechs was one of the small group of children that had fought the soldiers when they entered the barracks. Being larger then most children his age he was able to fight them for some time. But their experience soon got the better of him and he was knocked unconcious.

He awoke later his green eyes meeting the blazing sun. His face and back burned as he layed on the sand. After his beating he decided it better not to ask what was happening. He stood up and looks around. There seemed to be a center of attention for all the children. As he slowly took his place in line he asked the boy beside him what was going on and where they were.

After a short conversation he found out that his name was Sechs. He also found out they were tools stuck in the valley of the dead. If they wanted their lives back they would have to kill a man who looked like he was the leader of this. He also learned The woman's name was Die Dame and that she had done this to them. She had just now told two girls to fight. Sechs found this all very intresting. He wondered if his former life had been good. But he knew there was only one way to find out.

Sechs snuck away from the group. His footsteps quiet on the crunching sand. Not heard by anyone he snuck up behind the man he needed to kill.

"Give me back my life!" he screamed screamed as he brang his fist across towards the mans head, aiming for the temple. As Sechs prepared for the blow to strike he felt a peircing pain in his side. he turned his head as he fell and saw he had been struck in the side by one of the soldiers. The soldier kicked Sechs in the stomach.

"Be good now. You'll get your chance." the soldier said quietly. After hearing the scream most the children had looked over to him, but had already refocused on the fight.

Guess I better make some allies. Or I'll be dead by morning. Sechs thought as he scrambled back to his spot in line before the soldier could strike him again. He now took the time to look over the man. He flicked his hair from his face and felt his eye burn. I also guess I should leave this eye covered.

Sechs anger soon died down. He knew he could find a better way to channel it. Especially if he got picked to fight next.

Zuerst was expecting Acht to be more prepared for the fight than the emotion driven Sieben, and she allowed her opponent to set the pace of the battle. Despite being unarmed, it was obvious who was the superior fighter, as Zuerst weaved her hands to deflect Acht's attacks. Her motions seemed to be natural, she did not even need to think to deflect the assualt.

Acht continued her low assualt to the legs with ceaseless abandon, and it seemed she was finally gaining ground. Acht began to push Zuerst back, inch by inch, and a creeping hope of victory started to well into her mind. However, to those who were accustomed to watching mortal combat, they knew the victor was already decided.

Acht saw an opening and she took it. Reversing the grip on her blade again, Acht's right arm pulled a backwards strike, the blade leading in an upwards thrust. The blades target: Zuerst's throat. It happened in an instant, in less time it takes to breath. Acht felt it, she felt the blade rip through Zuerst flesh, the skin offering a feeble resistance the the steel.

Die Dame gasped, she had not expected this. McGuire was also impressed, and the beuatiful woman at his side brought her hand to muffle a silent scream.

The blade's tip hovered a centimeter in in front of Zuerst throat, Zuerst's hand sat impaled on the hilt, cupped around Acht's hand. There was very little blood, and despite the wound, Zuerst showed no pain. Only then did Acht realize the gravity of the situation as her oppenent tumbled the her right. In letting her hand be impaled, Zuerst had gained complete control over Acht's right side, and rendering her left side useless. When Zuerst tumbled, she brought Acht with her. The professional killer twisted Acht's arm, forceing her to the ground and wrenching the blade, still impaling her hand, free from Acht's grasp. Zuerst pulled Acht arm into a half-nelson. The Zuerst didn't bother to pull the knife out of her hand as she thrust at Acht's throat.

Lucky for Acht, Die Dame composed herself just before Zuerst hit the fatal spot, "Enough!"

Zuerst froze, the blade stopping just under the surface skin of Acht's throat. Acht's blood ran down the length of the blade, flowing into Zuerst own wound. They sat there for a moment, Zuerst ensuring the fight was gone from Acht, before she got off the fallen girl.

Zuerst looked at her horrid wound with a blank expression. She held her wounded hand in front of her and quickly pulled the knife out of it with her other hand. She winced in pain for a brief second as she cleanly jerked it out, but went back to her blank expression and walked back to Die Dame's side.

McGuire nodded, "Start their training." That command given, sounded more like consent. With that, he performed an about face and led the beautiful woman, and the large man in a tuxedo (who looked like he was about to suffer a massive heat stroke) to the waiting chopper. Die Dame smiled, the demonstration had went well.

"I am Die Dame, an'd you... you ar' Schatten, vrom this day vorward." Die Dame threw her arms out wide. "Veturn to vour barracks, lick you wounds. Your training begins tommarrow."

She began to turn and leave, but stopped, "You are free to vander about as vu vill, but there iz no hope to escape vere. Ven again, even if vu do, v'ere vould vu go? Vu vill find that not only 'ave vu forgotten the outside vorld, but vee vourld 'ave vas forgotten vu as well. Look around, I and your fellow Schatten ar your familly now."

Lick my wounds eh? How appropriate. Acht pushed herself up with the arm that hurt less and glanced once at Zuerst passively as she limped towards the barracks, away from the crowd of whispering children. Her demeanor was almost similar to the girl whom she was fighting with, except for the limp she acquired from landing rather heavily on a leg at a slightly wrong angle. Apart from that sole exception, she moved as if she could not feel all the pain screaming from many parts of her body.

Beneath the indifferent mask that already was a habit or had started being one, Acht's thoughts were running with much less calm. She was surprised and a little shocked at how Zuerst reversed the tables on her. She knew that her chance of winning was slim from the start and even when she took the opening, she was merely slightly more hopeful than she was at the beginning. But she had not expected her opponent to bait her and deliberately get hurt to retaliate with an upperhand.

When Acht had gotten over the initial shock, she had begun analyzing what she observed during the fight. She found herself wondering what kind of training created such a reckless yet calculated fighting style. Despite knowing that it would most likely be inhumanely tough, she felt herself curious enough to anticipate it. Acht allowed herself to smile a little, a small vicious smile that spoke of her nearly sadistic excitement.

Slowly making her way to the bed she occupied earlier, Acht silently and carefully lowered herself on the bed and lifted a hand to touch the wound on her throat where she could feel a faint trinkle of blood flowing down due to the pull of gravity. The metallic scent assaulted her nose as she lifted the bloodied fingers to her face, examining the red fluid with a certain fascination before she licked them clean.

Lick my wounds huh...

Zehn eyes widened with surprise. "Hey, is there a mess hall?" she said to no one and went in the opposite direction from the main group. Such a curious mind, she had. She didn't even seem to mind the blinding heat after a little while, and ignored the sweat beading on her forehead. She was much more interested in the other buildings.

She went to the first one, and, to her glee, found the mess hall. She smiled as she walked in and wandered around, alone. That's how she liked it, she supposed, as she felt comfortable in the empty room. Zehn went into the kitchen like area, instantly be ushered out, roughly to her dismay. But she was able to find some fruit, a treasured surprise. She didn't think such juicy things could grow in such desolate a landscape. She nibbled on the plum and went back out, taking care to make the open part of the fruit safe from sand.

She looked out, her eyes squinted nearly shut, and found the next nearest building, seeing some air conditioners outside. She saw it was similar to the barracks in which they were expected to live, and went toward the doors to enter.

"You are free to vander about as vu vill, but there iz no hope to escape vere. Ven again, even if vu do, v'ere vould vu go? Vu vill find that not only 'ave vu forgotten the outside vorld, but vee vourld 'ave vas forgotten vu as well. Look around, I and your fellow Schatten ar your familly now."

The boy.. No, Ein, had simply stared, simply watched the vicious fight with a gaze carefully devoid of emotion. As he had alrady assumed, this place was a pit of death. Whoever was in charge of them, be it Die Dame, or the cultured man, was barbaric, that much was for sure. Ein didn't know just what was going to happen to them, and until he did, he wouldn't give them any more information then that which they beat out of him. This included his emotions. He would keep those masked, to himself, for the time being.
Will they make me fight next...?
The thought crossed his mind as he stood in place, unmoving, after the fight. Obviously not at the moment, as everyone was leaving, Die Dame walking towards a distant building with Zuerst, the other children either moving back towards the building they had originally been pulled from, or wandering off across the grounds.
More than likely.
He responded to his own unspoken question. It seemed quite obvious that they would all be made to fight in the coming days. He had no way of telling exactly what was going on, but one thing was certain. He had to think fast, stay on his toes, expect anything, absolutely anything. From what he had just seen, it was apparent that Die Dame could, and would do any number of things to them. Although she seemed reluctant to let any of them die, and appeared slightly unsettled when any of them were seriously hurt, (he had gathered this from the gasp she had made when Zuerst impaled her own hand) Ein also had the impression that their future days would most certainly not be easy.

There were other buildings around, Ein noted, although he had no idea of what they may contain. He made himself aware of the exact building that Die Dame eventually disappeared into, and took note of it for future reference. She may have glanced back at him before she went inside, one lone child remaining where all the others had been lined up, calmly looking straight at her, but it may have just been a trick of the heat, which caused things as far away as the woman to shimmer and wave slightly. Oh well, first things first.

Ein walked back to the barracks, but, instead of entering it like some of the others, he walked around the outside of it. He took interest in things such as the hinges on the outside of the door, the ventilation, the foundation..
Why am I studying these particular aspects of the building?
He asked himself, and knew the answer even as he started wondering.
You're studying the hinges in case the door ever needs to be broken down, the ventilation in case covert entrance or exit is ever needed, and the foundation just in case the building ever has to be wiped off the face of the desert. And, from the look of it, it would take exactly...
The boy took some comfort in the fact that he was unsure of exactly how much C4 would be required to level the barracks, for such knowledge would have disturbed him. Not the knowledge itself, per say, but rather where he had learned it, and the fact that he didn't know the answer to that question. Completing his circle of the barracks, Ein walked off, heading over to the next closest building. He was already sweating profusely from the heat.
Might as well stay outside and get used to it as soon as possible. There's no telling when we'll ever have the option to leave this place..

Zwolf walked away from the arena more than slightly unsettled. He had no memory whatsoever of his former life, but one thing appeared abundantly clear from his feelings. It was obvious that Zwolf was never much of a fan of violence.

Even watching others, Zwolf could not stand violence. The sight of blood made him shiver, and weapons turned against anyone caused him to tremble. The very thought of bloody death gave him nightmares. Therefore, it was only natural that he be significantly off balance after the sight he had just seen.

Zwolf began to walk, away from the building in which the "arena" was, out toward another area of the camp. The place was not at all beautiful. The sight of grass was rare, and what grass there was was turned light brown under the oppressive sun. Gravel paved the roads, sand filled the lawns. Zwolf could think of several names to describe it. Prison. Boot camp. Hell on Earth. But whatever it was, he hoped it would soon be over. Nevertheless, he knew it would not, in his heart. His life was erased, and his new life began. Even so, his fear remained.

Zwolf sat down, leaning against a ramshackle barracks, not his own. There, he continued to search his soul, hoping to find answers to the questions that plagued him. None of them were ever completely answered, but one stuck in his mind and would not go away.

I'm so timid, and yet... knowing that I am weak, and knowing that I abhor violence... why, then, did I attack Die Dame?

Zwolf could not shake that question. When Die Dame had taunted the children, telling them to kill her to regain their former lives, why was he the only one who stepped forward? Zwolf knew he stood no chance against anyone. He wasn't even trained in a simple self-defense art. Despite his fairly tough-looking appearance, he was a weakling through and through. But what drove him to fight Die Dame?

Had anything in Zwolf's former life ever angered him? Zwolf thought hard. He could think of nothing from his old life. No names, no memories, not even the images of his parents' faces. He knew, however, that he had parents. But what were they like? Would they have missed him after his disappearance, or would they have gone on with their lives as if nothing had happened? Zwolf did not know.

It was all so incredibly overwhelming. Zwolf was on the verge of tears, and yet he was afraid to cry. He let them roll, but he did not cry. No crying, or sobbing, but only soft weeping. The slowest, most silent, and most painful form of venting.

Had he done this a lot? Zwolf did not know, but he did know he needed to be alone. And finally, leaning against the barracks, he was, for a little while.

The cry's of a child shook, if but for a moment, Zwolf out of his thoughts. A girl's sobbing, coming from one of a small and tender frame, reminded him that he was not alone. She sat on her bed, adjacent from Zwolf's own, hugging her knee's to her chest, and crying into them.

What was her name? Zwolf couldn't recall, this Die Dame had counted off quickly, and it wouldn't be surprising if a few of the children had missed there own christening. Was this why she was crying? The first moments of her life and she had missed hearing her own name, and while the other children were all indeed scared in their own way's, this one girl was left behind. Or was it just the sheer hopelessness of her own situation? Death seemed so close, the end of things. Perhaps in her own mind, she was already dead. Perhaps in a way, they all were. And yet things seemed to get worse by each passing of the moment.

But perhaps she wept for another reason, one that was simply so far beyond the understanding of anyone but her. Could Zwolf even fathom what this expierience is like for anyone else? To do so would be just ignorant.

Regardless of why she wept, the nameless girl looked up, and for a heartbeat of time, locked her gaze with Zwolf, before buring her face in her knee's again.


--------------------------

As Zehn approached the building of simular make of the barracks she awoke in, she noticed the most of the armed men who forced the children from their sanctuary were going into and out of it. The troops carried crates, which seemed heavy but Zehn could not hope to guess the contents, two by two. They brought it to the easily the largest man of the team. He'd give them a nod, point to one of the eight other building in the complex, and move onto the next while the men shuffle to carry out his instructions.

As Zehn neared, the large man seemed to only grow larger and more imposing. She could see now he was over seven feet tall, a veritable wall of muscle. Dark brown skin, with the only hare on his head were his eyebrows. His face was one of a warrior, someone whose soul purpose in life was to cause pain. Zehn stopped in her tracks, suddenly unsure of herself, longing that she had just stayed in the mess hall.

Then the worse happened, the large man's head snapped in her direction, causing Zehn's heart to skip a beat. The man shouted out, flicked his hand in her direction and gave an order to two of his comarade's who immediately dropped what they were doing, and began to stomp toward Zehn, each wearing the most unfriendly of expressions.

"At ease, soldiers," came a stern, but friendly order from Zehn's side. A figure stepped out from behind a pile of crates, which seemed to be there before the troops had arrived. A tall woman, who, at a distance, Zehn couldn't tell was indeed a woman due to her shaved head and uniform matching the other soldiers. But at this distance, she seemed handsome, not pretty, but handsome in a feminine sort of way. Her dark skin matched the large man who looked on for a moment but went back to what he was doing.

The soldiers stopped, gave a salute and went back to what they were doing without question. The unknown savior looked down at Zehn, with a sad smile, "I understand you've had a rough day, little miss. You really don't want to hang out around this barracks of ours, tho', men aren't thrilled about the heat."

The female soldier cocked her head to the side and shouted out an order to another pair of soldiers who decided to take an early break. Immediately they went back to work. "By the way, I'm Corporal Browning. Whats your name?"

========

The large soldier said nothing of Cor. Browning's interference with his orders, for he didn't really care one way or the other. As long as the mutts stayed out of the way. On second thought.... why give them the chance to get in the way.

"Millers," the large man called to one of his nearby troops.

"Yes sir?" Sergenent Millers perked up, for in fact he was lamenting about being brought out here in the middle of nowhere for this job.

"Take Private Henning and Private Baack round up all these mutts wandering around. Don't hurt anyone, but make sure they know its their bedtime," the large man ordered coldly.

Millers smiled, finally something to do. "Yes sir, Major Browning, SAR!"

Zwei snarled lightly her pale eyes glittering in the ferocity of the suns UV Rays sparking imaginary fires for ones heart as lips curled up ward shaking her head heavily the hair was feathery and thick best suited to be short and flipped out almost modern like. Tendrils of the dusky twilight hair filtered over one eye as they were narrowed as a flicker of the pale tongue darted over the lower lip watching the male observing his emotions and motions not minding the other children whom lingered past like stagnant ghosts for the shipwreck grave yard.


Thoughts were bloody and disputed trying to calm her self the endorphins in her body made her want to laugh hysterically until her mouth hurt and she keeled over in death holding her match stick ribs as the sand stuck to her lashes an indiscernible coat like glitter only more fathomless in tact to attracting males. It seemed like a lost instinct as the words drilled in to her mind as if it was a blank dry erase board with the pungent smell of markers squeaking over its pallid surface as lungs filled in smoky air things seemed to move in slow motion with each beat of her heat watching large soldiers take their residence in the barracks and other places with large crates heavy and carried by four each with a few trips back as she slinked to the shade of the rectangular buildings a cat like existence.


Cradling the notions so quite dear feeling the heat create her skin to sweat sticky rolls of liquid on her back and forehead as a feathery hand waved up whipping it form he surfaces grimacing her lips snorting out sand from her nostrils. Watching things roll by a somber of their cadences as her hand wrapped about behind her and lifted the hair off her neck to decrease the heat from making her sick to the pit. Fanning the body that panted a bit in the sparse shade as if sharing with everything wasn't enough glaring out grumpily miserable why would they say they were important to them yet treat them like they ere mangy canines? Everything seemed like it was in limbo a place of purgatory not earth more like galactic outer space as her question was unheeded and she didn't care moving past soon in due time she would murder that wench and her associates first was first for getting stronger and adjusting to the lack of memories and abilities to live in the real world.


Also was to build confidence and trust with the higher lackeys of this woman get in on what was really going on than being a tool all that was to know as her eyes drooped like sickles again glowing pools of molten gold and bronze. Shivering staying form any ones way trying to knaw on her thumb as two large males started loping up towards her vicinity as lips pursed jaggedly and eyes narrowed something was going down and it wasn't right still it was the middle of the day after noon's time than twilight of 8 o clock.


Zwei's body stayed stock still like an alabaster statue hidden as if a garden was there shriveled and disputed for medical and biological war fare than to go out for the sake of it. Lips peeled open hissing a little bit not speaking before hand as they came closer she snarled speaking quickly in an abrupt Italian before reversing it in to English for their idiocy.

"Go away."

They kept moving forwards in to her comfort zone as pupils dilated in to small pricks knowing they would do something to her by the looks on their faces after spotting her from turning their corners from confiscating other children in to their barracks. Again Zwei snarled and heeded them warnings lips curling she gave an aura that she was just a small fairy like person as the bodice flickered in a anticipated fight to keep her personal space.

"Again I told you do not touch me or do not near me unless you have something good to say or important because you do not know what depths each of us have in fighting"


She had a very valid point being pretty strong form her former life, eyes hooded as her body curled up wards standing blinking once or twice grumpily for the valid point was some memories were to deep for drugs to rember it was the muscle memories that held their truths such with scars, burns, wounds and tattoos it also withheld the knowledge of what they did in past life such as gymnastics or some sort of fighting either with weapon or hands and body techniques it soon would seep in to systems unexpected and surprise them still it needed to be triggered by something as the female stayed extremly still in life and breathing as if threatening to asphyxiate her self right then and there which wasn't the point of the speaking. Her Bodice quivered waiting for what they would do still it was a great mystery to her why her question was not simply answered upfront may be it was something that would unravel the operations yet still there was no knowlege for it as sand and scorpions flitered their daily life. Eyes haunted with what was done to her over things she couldn't rember but with other things the other kids were forced in to such as the fight and being beaten to the ground for questioing in malice as she stood her ground waiting and listening to them breath.



Alas it wasn't enough for her scooting away a bit in fear it was stil here.


Stone roses and Glass windows

Zehn smiled
"thanks for the advice, Corpral. My name, i suppose, would be Zehn."
She smiled and curtsied slightly
"Questions of bonds. Why was my memories erased? What is this camp suppose to put into our brains? How did we all get here. And will this knowledge immidiately proclaim my death?"
she asked. smiling only slightly now, but always thinking of why she was here. She didn't really care, but to know, was the true value of this knowledge such as this. She bowed her head respectfully
"though probably i'm breaking rules or regulations"
Her smiled broaded. She liked information. She recently found this out. but she did. So she hoped this new supposed friend would be able to hold some answers for her. She began to ring her wrist again, nervous, now that she thought, that she, infact, had been too prudent or outspoken. Another thing, she came to realize, that she didn't think before she spoke. She kept up the childish smile and attitude, attempting to be able to charm her way out of any impending doom

Minutes after the end of Die Dame's 'ending speech', Neun was found curled up in the middle of her bed, her loose hair splayed everywhere around her lithe body. Exploring could wait, considering the fact that she could hardly open her eyes for five seconds without toothpicks to support her heavy eyelids.

She found no reason for herself to follow the example of several individuals whom she had seen panicking. Perhaps it was her nature to take all in life easily. However, for all she knew, she could be an orphaned street rat before she came here. If so, where would the point of weeping or sobbing over the history be? She may even be happier here.

She turned again to find the view shift from the unending darkness to bright red. Waking up with her eyes half opened, she tugged at the cover to the green trunk, lying at the foot of her bed, hoping that it would open, a pillow would definitely be useful.

She was met with a negative response, and had no choice but to slump back onto the white sheets, attempting to use her warm black hair to protect her delicate eyes from the sunlight.

Having completed his circle around the barracks, Ein made his way to the next nearest building. Not slowly, but also not with any great speed. He moved at a casual walk, a speed that showed he certainly wasn't just aimlessly wandering, but also didn't indicate that he had some special purpose or goal in mind, either. The building he approached, surprisingly, had an unlocked door. Taking advantage of this fact, and glancing around once to make sure no one was within viewing range of him, (which no one was), Ein slipped inside, silently closing the door behind him.

Inside the building, the boy was greeted by the sight of several rows of tables, long an rectangular, all built from a solid piece of metal. Permanently attached to the floor. he noted, walking past them, to the other side of the room, which was walled off with a door on either end. The doors were on hinges, the one on the right side for walking in, and the one on the left for leaving. There were several windows along the wall, too. He knew that it was a kitched before he entered the door, but he looked inside to make sure, anyway. Everything was in place, it wasn't bare like Ein had expected. Instead of hiding the knives and other sharp objects, as he would expect captors to do in the case of their prisoners, the cutlery was simply hanging on the wall within easy reach. His mind reached the obvious conclusion in seconds. They know that we're too smart to move against them. Even if we did overpower all the guards, Zuerst, Die Dame herself, where would we go? Only endless desert would greet us. She knows we won't bother using weapons against her or her men, there's nothing to be gained from it. Ein then left the building through the same door he had entered, back into the blistering heat.

Lightly moving down the three steps that led into the mess hall, he noticed several armed guards moving the children back into the barracks. Their faces betrayed nothing, these were obviously soldiers designed to not let their emotions show. Ein carefully slipped around the NorthEast corner of the mess hall and kept walking, away from the barracks. He would continue his inspection of the compound until he was forced to do otherwise. After all, he had only seen guards moving children into the barracks, he didn't necessarily know that it meant he had to return. Was he being 'smart'? Maybe, but he would leave that up to his superiors to decide. Sadly, he didn't get more than twenty feet away before one of the men spotted him.

"Hey, kid!" The shout was obviously directed at Ein, so he stopped and turned, looking back at the man as he neared him. A large man, but not large as in muscle, or fat. Simply a large frame. Despite the fact that he could see no bulging muscles, though, Ein suspected strongly that the man was in peak physical condition. Resistance, if he felt like it, (which he didn't) would be futile. Instead of making a retort when the man motioned him towards the barracks, he simply began trotting over.

As he neared the barracks, he became aware of another man, smaller than the first but with apparent strength standing to the side of the metal doorway. Upon walking by, the man reached out, presumably to shove the boy inside. As the guard's hand neared his shoulder, though, something sparked in the back of Ein's mind, in an area that controlled reflex, not concious thought. Ein's torso twisted left, so the man's hand missed his shoulder. Simultaneously, his right hand swept up and backwards, his forearm hitting the guard's wrist, forcing his hand away and outwards, causing him to lean forward to keep his balance. Keeping his forearm against the man's wrist, Ein's hand snaked up and around, fingers clenching. This ended up with Ein's body turned in the perfect position for attack, all vital areas facing away from the man, while the guard was leaning forward, arm extended and twisted firmly in Ein's grip, torso and head completely open and vulnerable to attack. Ein noticed two things then. Firstly, his legs were already slightly bent at the knee, ready to kick. Secondly, this entire encounter still hadn't taken more than two seconds to occur. Before he had held the man's wrist long enough for it to actually be considered a hold, he released, letting the guard straighten up. Before he could hit the boy or retaliate in some other manner, Ein hopped the last two steps and turned around.

"I'm perfectly capable of entering the barracks on my own, sir." he said, spinning on his heel and walking to his bunk, feeling the guard's eyes on his back as he did so. By the time he fell onto his bed, the springs squeaking noisily, his brow was soaked in even more sweat then it had been earlier. Concious of the eyes of some of the other children on him, he wiped the sweat away with the back of his left hand. And where did that come from? he asked himself. Not surprisingly, Ein had no idea.

Corporal Browning put her hand on her hip, "Sh-t, girl, I don't know anything 'bout why you tikes are here." The female merc looked on as some of the other troops began to usher the kids back, and figured that the "Big Man" was getting impatient.

"Kid, I think you best return to that barracks of yours. Don' know what I can tell ya 'cept I think we're all going to be here for a while." A bad taste started to spread in Cor. Browning's mouth... subtle, though it was. The best thing now was to stick close to her crew, but there was something about the one... this girl, Zehn. That whole "deer-in-headlights" look about her... reminded her of someone she knew long ago.

The Corporal began to walk off, but turned around one last look to regard Zehn. "Lil' Z, careful round here. I have a feeling things are gonna get really hard for ya really fast. Don' worry none, I'll look out for ya..." Corporal Browning didn't know why she made that proclamation, and even speaking those words surprised her. Making it made her feel like she'd just taken the first step in her own grave.

===========

In the comfort of the "Master Complex", three figure's found their escape from the dessert heat. "Denkt so an was Sie die neuen Themen, Vater?" Die Dame asked the Wheelchair Man, although she could already guess the answer.

The Wheelchair Man sat still for a moment. The deep crevasses of his face and dark eye's marked him as a man who was beyond smiling or excitement. Or rather, was simply incapable to do so. "Angemessen," came the simple and expected answer,"tochter."

That drew a chuckle. Daughter, he says? What an odd way of putting it, of course it was said with more snide than affection. "Wann verlassen Sie für den zweiten Lager?" Die Dame asked.

"Sofort," came another cold, but expected answer.

Die Dame nodded and turned her attention to Zuerst. "And vat of vu, Zuerst? Vat do vu think of vee sub-jects?"

Zuerst rubbed her wounded hand, speaking not a word, and showing no emotion. But it was as if Die Dame could read her mind. "Vu 'eld back, Zuerst."

"Killing the girls would have served no purpose, and disappointed Mr. McGuire," came the completely logical answer.

"Bat, veeing vounded vu 'ave called vuor own abilities into vestion..." Die Dame chuckle again, she so loved teasing her pet. Zuerst stood silent, knowing full well the punishments for doing anything but. "Vat, itz can't vee 'elped. Vats dun iz dun." Die Dame flipped her hand in Zuerst direction, giving her permission to get some sleep.

It was going to be a long day tommarrow...

----------------------

The mercs went about their orders encountering only minor resistance, gathering the children, and not-so-gently ushering them back into their barracks. The children, after being securely locked into the complex, wandered aimlessly for a few minutes. Confused, terrified, some angry, but all were exhuasted. One by one they returned to their beds, odd though it was that all remembered which bed they had awoken from only a few hours before. Maybe that was becuase that was their first claim, their only claim, of something being their own.

And with that claim came too a small measure of comfort. Through that comfort, they managed to find sleep. They did not dream, nor stir, and perhaps that was merciful.

And yet the night did not creep by without a visitor. She crept in without a sound, and passed like a phantom through the large room. She stopped at the head of one bed, containing a sleeping girl, the recently appointed "Acht." The assassin stared down in silence, then pulled up her wounded hand.

Almost inaudibly, the phantom whispered , "The new me..."

And then she was gone.

-------------------------


The start of the new day came, although at the time the children did not at the time, at seven pm. And like the day before, it was the soldiers that awoke them and forced them into the blistering heat outside.

Once again the children were greeted by an audience. This time by this Die Dame woman, Zuerst, and a large man in military fashion fatigue's, the same one who seemed to be in command of the soldiers. The Wheelchair man was absent, as were the cultured man and beautiful woman.

"Listen up, MAGGOTS, this is the day I've-" The Large man started to roar but Die Dame cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Vat vill be enough, Herr Browning," Die Dame smiled devilishly. The proclamation seemed to hit the large man like a ton of bricks.

"Inferno hired us to do a job here, Mizz D! That was the training-" Major Browning seemed to lose his temper, but Die Dame, a testament of the power either she wielded over him or the power she represented, cut him off again.

"Vour contract stated vat vue verr to 'oversee' training, Herr Browning. At no time vas it mentioned vat vue ver going to 'ave a direct part ov vat training," Die Dame replied coolly.

"What!? You mean we were hired to babysit? In the middle of a f-ck-ng desert?" Browning, despite the heat, felt a chill creep up his back.

"In a word, yes. Zuerst vill be the principal instructaar vor exercizee's," Die Dame smiled that shark smile of hers, one that was already begining to plant fear in some of the students.

Brownning was silent, a boiling rage welled up inside him but he held his tongue. The steel gaze of the woman allowed no further discussion.

Die Dame turned to the subjects. "Zuerst vill guid you through vee opening exercises. Direct all questions to her." With that, the mercs started to take their posts, and Die Dame returned to the head complex.

Acht hated her entire body, especially her leg, at that particular moment, though her brown eyes showed no emotions of that sort. Last night's sleep had been enough to rest her fatigue body but it had done nothing good to her aches and injuries. As expected, every single muscles on her lean frame screamed bloody murder at her everytime she moved. Of course, none of it showed on her face.

Through passive eyes, she watched the little drama between Die Dame and the person called Browning, noting down details of their interaction with faint amusement. Her amusement deepened when she heard that Zuerst would be their principal instructor. Acht could definitely do with that. She had much to learn from Zuerst.

With her mind occupied with thinking, Acht absentmindedly shifted her weight onto her injured leg without knowing, and her leg buckled beneath her. Surprise flashed in her eyes when she realized that she was going to fall forward and tried to stable herself. But it seemed that it was not necessary, somebody had already steady her with a helpful arm.

"You okay?" Blue eyes glanced at her leg and looked straight at her as the boy spoke softly. Acht's eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to recall his name. Ein. Oh right, he was the first person to get named by Die Dame. Ein. The number 'one' in German.

Studying the boy's face quietly and quickly, she discovered that she had noticed Ein from among all the children several times before. Once before they were named. And another time last night, when he entered the barracks and nearly attacked the guard they had. She was preoccupied with accessing her injuries mentally that she had watched the little encounter without actually paying attention to it.

And now, she was paying careful attention to what she recalled seeing. Acht could tell that Ein was probably as good a fighter as she was, and that it would be interesting to fight him. And from what she observed, the boy was observant, and probably far more matured the half of the other children. He could easily become an excellent ally or a lethal opponent.

But Acht felt that it was not in her nature to be close to another, even if just to be acquaintance. She discovered a loner streak in her personality and was pretty much content with it. But still, she carefully kept what she thought of Ein in mind, resolving to observe further. She was not one to refuse anything that could help her survive, especially in such a situation that they were in. But for now, she would keep to herself and put her observation skills to good use.

"I'm fine, thank you." Shifting her weight again, this time correctly, Acht whispered flatly while looking into Ein's blue eyes before moving her gaze away from the boy, back onto Zuerst. At the moment, she was more interested in knowing what Zuerst will have them do for training.

[OOC: Tag, Peng ^^ I have fulfilled my promise and hope you're happy with what I have done. ^^; Oh, feel free to use Acht, I believe I told you enough about her personality. Besides, I'm going to be absent so waiting for me will put things on a terribly long hold.]

The endless miles of sand slowly came into sight as light spilled across them from the East as the sun rose, the area of visibility increasing every moment. The gentle light spilled over a not-so-gentle establishment in the desert then, an establishment where many children were about to wake up to a world of something rather.. Unpleasant.

Ein's eyes snapped open, and he lay still for a moment, allowing himself to come fully awake. When he was in control of his senses, he lightly hopped out of his bunk and made his way towards the door, where some of the other children were gathered. He stopped a short distance away, and listened. From the sound of things, the guards were going to come in at any second and drag them outside. This theory was proven true a moment later when the door opened and a large man stepped inside, indicating that the children should file out. They did so.

Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later, they stood in several lines, Die Dame cowing the military man with a few words and explaining to them that Zuerst would be their 'instructor'. Ein noticed the girl, Acht, was on his left, staring forward with no expression on her face. He didn't physically smile, but allowed himself to mentally do so. He liked that about her. Like himself, she seemed to keep her emotions amazingly well-concealed. During her fight with Zuerst the day before, he hadn't seen more than a flicker of emotion cross her face. Perhaps she would be the first person he decided to talk to. As his glance slid away from the girl, it slid downwards to the leg that had caused her to limp slightly on her return to the barracks the previous day. A wonder she was still standing on it, there was a moderate swelling, looked like it would sting painfully if any weight was put upon it.

After he glanced away, she apparently did put weight on the aforementioned leg, because he heard a foot begin to slip in the sand. Knowing what he'd find when he turned, he already had his left arm out to steady Acht as she began to fall.

"You okay?" he asked, looking directly at her. Not sounding worried, nor amused. Just asking a question, with the same casual tone that one would use to speak of the weather. For a moment, only a few seconds really, she looked at his face, not blinking. He had the distinct impression that she was thinking of more than simply what to say in return. Evaluating him, maybe. The moment passed.

"I'm fine, thank you." came the curt reply, her eyes looking directly into his now, before she shifted her weight onto her uninjured leg and turned away.

Certainly a step up from the rest of the kids, thought Ein, slowly turning back to Die Dame, who was walking away. I certainly wouldn't want to get on her bad side. Perhaps he'd make an effort to speak with her again during the day.. Assuming he had the energy left after whatever Zuerst put them through. Looking at the girl now, she simply stood in front of the gathered children impassively, the guards forming a loose ring around everyone, as usual.

Here we go again, Zwolf inwardly groaned. Stuck here in this hellhole, gathered in a circle around these bastards.

Zuerst... he thought as his eyes turned to the silent woman standing in the middle of the makeshift arena. So ruthless, evil, angry...

And yet, he thought, she was nothing next to her apparent master. Die Dame was nothing short of evil. To even think of tearing innocent children away from their former homes forever, to do whatever it was she wanted them to do...

There it was. That untouchable topic again. Home. What was home? This brutal, harsh encampment couldn't have possibly been Zwolf's home. And how could his name be Zwolf, anyway? Real people weren't named numbers. They just weren't.

It could only go to show what kind of people Zwolf was really dealing with. Die Dame and her entourage were savages. Brilliant and calculating, but malicious.

How could they have a motive for doing what they had been? Zwolf didn't know. How could he? He was too low on the pecking order to have any knowledge. His only comfort was that all the other children were in the same position as he.

Zwolf cried out inwardly for justice. Was there any justice in the world? Zwolf had once, long ago, thought there was. Or it seemed so long ago, but it was only a few days. When Zwolf, filled with righteous anger, had charged at Die Dame in search of freedom.

Zwolf was too weak to fight Die Dame. Having seen Sieben and Acht fight had shown him that he was weaker than the other children. Zwolf dreaded the day when he would have to take his place in that dreaded arena, surrounded by silent, powerful guards, and with the other children walling him in. There was no escape from Zwolf's fate. He knew he'd have to fight some day. Whether or not it was today, he didn't know. But he did want to put that day off as long as possible.

Confusion, sadness, anger, futility... So many negative emotions whirled around in poor little Zwolf's head. His heart cried out in despair, but the facade of indifference remained on his face. It had to.

Zuerst took in the silence as a cue to start the training, the fact that the were still in shock was pinnacle in creating training habits for the monthes to come. She turned on her heel and waved for the others to follow her into a jog. Few stayed behind, those that did were met with the harsh ushering of several of the armed men.

And so they ran, the first lap around the complex being the cruelest in the blistering heat. The jog afforded the children a better look at the complex. There were several buildings, the largest seemed to be a factory in disrepair. It seemed to be three stories tall, the top lined with broken out grid windows. The two barracks, one that served for a shelter for the children, the other serving as a shelter for the armed soldiers, looked fairly new when compared to the factory. The head complex that sat oppisite of the two barracks was slightly smaller than the barracks, but it seemed to have been mobile at one time.

After the first lap, that took about six minutes to complete, left most of the children out of breath and gasping for air. Zuerst stopped for but a moment to take stock of the subjects, making sure none collapsed and was left behind, and then, without a word, resumed her jog. Without question, the order being implied, the children once again took up behind her. Two laps passed, then three, but on the fourth, the children began to fall. Deydrated and suffering from heat stroke, numbers Vierzehn and Zweiundzwan fell, their small bodies not being able to take it anymore. They were not alone, almost all the children looked as though they would not last much longer in the heat.

However, as if she were some immortal goddess, Zuerst looked on unfazed. She stared blankly at the fallen children for a moment, then at the others. "Pick them up," she gave the order. The statement would have been cold, had it not been completely devoid of emotion. Their was no disappointment or even the hint of annoyance, just a blunt order as if the whole scenerio had been scripted. And without question for fear of reprisal, or maybe it was a bond that was already forming between the captive subjects, several members picked up the children gently. "Follow me," came the next emotionless command.

Zuerst lead the twenty-four children into the factory, however another child fell to heat stroke during the trip. Without being told or thinking, Zwolf instinctively picked her up and carried her along. She looked familiur, and Zwolf recognized her as the girl who also retreated to the barracks with him, sobbing. Zuerst pushed open the large, metallic double doors of the complex, the hinges screeching in protest.

Although the complex seemed to lack the air conditioning of the barracks, the shade it provided was like elixar to the fatigued children. The complex was large and open, however several smaller complexs lined the width of the near wall. Two doors, one padlocked and also steel plated, the other a simple wooden door lead to the smaller parts. Zuerst bid the children carrying the fallen kids to follow her into the room with the wooden door, while the others waited outside. Zwolf carried the smaller girl in along with two others, each carrying a fallen child.

The small room had a small battery powered air conditioner, a large fridge, and a couple of mattresses on the floor. Zuerst flipped the air conditioner on, and opened the fridge. "Lay them down," she bid the children. The carriers gently laid the fallen kids down on the mattresses and looked to Zuerst for further instructions. Zuerst nodded and stepped aside the fridge, holding the door open. "Take these to the others," she waved her hand at a couple twelve packs of water bottles. "Zwolf, you stay."

The two other boys moved quickly, and for the first time today, moved eagerly and picked up the boxes and carried them out of the room. Then, Zwolf was alone with the three unconcious subjects and Zuerst. A uncomfortable moment passed as the door closed behind the water carriers, and Zuerst turned her back on him to reach in the fridge again. She close the fridge after taking out five more water bottles and a several towels. She poured some of the ice cold water on the towels and placed them gently, and Zwolf would go so far as to say gingerly, on the forheads of the fallen kids. She handed him a water bottle of his own. "They should regain concieousness momentarily. Keep them here until you determine they may constructively return to the rest of the group."

And with that, she left him to return to the rest of the group. She stood in an "at ease" stance, as the others collected their water bottles.

It was not long, until the girl who cried across from Zwolf the night before began to stir. Half awake, she spoke in slurred speech looking up at Zwolf, "Who... who are you? Wha... wha... where am I?"

No! I will not fall! Acht thought ferociously, as she caught herself before she collapsed. If her leg condition had been bad previously, it could only be worse now. Each step was excrucriatingly, but step she must. Acht would not allow herself to fall.

Lift, step, lift, step, wince.

Acht could not control her body's instinctual reaction to the pain, and thus did not bother to. She jogged on, searching for things that could distract her while at the same time, trying to keep the amount of weight she put on each leg relatively constant and beneficial for both legs. If simply would not do, if she stress the use of her uninjured limb and over-exhaust it.

Then she realized that her decision to not rely on her better leg was most probably the better one in this seemingly neverending test of endurance, but it was not a normal instinctive one. Most of the time, a person with a leg injury would most likely placed more weight on the uninjured other to lessen the pain, even if doing so will double the workload of the unharmed leg. But Acht had not done so, she had carefully measured out how to keep both legs functional for as long as possible.

The black hair girl mused about this observation of herself, and recalled that she had also very naturally did what was best for her situation during the fight with Zuerst. She concluded that she must have not just basic training in physical activities, it must have been intensive, for whatever she learned had already became something of a second nature to her. And Acht was glad for it, no matter why how or when such training was done. It could save her life now, and that was all that matter to her.

Wiping away the many beads of perspiration steadily approaching her eyes, Acht noted by her surroundings that they have completed three laps around the complex, and now was starting on the fourth. The pain from her leg had started becoming unbearable and each step was threateningly close to causing her to give out. But still, Acht jogged on, despite how precarious her style of jogging was.

She felt some of the children glancing worriedly at her, afraid that she was going to keel over, but she steadily and expressionlessly ignored them. Privately, she thought they have better things to worry about, like the state of their own body. Apart from the problems her leg was giving her, Acht was actually doing as fine as the situation allowed. Her dehydration and heatstroke condition was not serious enough to warrant extra attention, attention she could not give as all were put on keep her legs mobile.

When Acht saw the scenery that marked the beginning and end of each lap, she could not help but wish that Zuerst would not lead them on another round. Right after the thought ended, her injured leg folded under her abruptly and proceeded to drag her entire body down. Even though she knew what was happening, Acht could do nothing but wait to feel the impact of hitting the ground with closed eyes.

It did not come.

"You okay?" Acht looked up, to find a familiar pair of blue eyes looking at her as the owner of the eyes supported her weight, and she frowned as she felt a strong sense of deja vu. The same action, the same reaction, the same words and the same boy. What kind of a coincidence is that?

"I'm fine, thank you." The flat words of gratitude slipped out of Acht's lips before she realized, and when she did, she wanted nothing more than to smack herself on the head. Of all words known to humanity, she just had to choose these four words.

Furious with herself and more than a little boggled, Acht did not wait to see the boy's reaction to her reply and pushed herself away, trying to resume jogging but ended up walking briskly with an obvious limp. She did not have to walk long, as Zuerst stopped the training and led them into a factory after noting the casualties. Acht was silently thankful for that, as she did not know how long before her leg failed on her again.

As she took her water bottle and drank needily from it, Acht's thoughts revolved around the little incident. It was the second time that Ein helped her, and somehow, it just had to happened like the first time. What exactly, is that about?

Ein didn't know what was worse: the heat, or the fact that he couldn't do anything about it. Jogging in these conditions was hell, and for a moment he contemplated whether or not Hell actually got this hot. All he could do was recede as far back into his mind as possible. Ignore the heat, ignore the exhaustion, ignore the labored breathing he heard all around him. Breath by breath, he forced the hot air into his lungs, breathing in though his nose and out through his mouth, in time with his footfalls. After hearing two dull 'thumps', though, Ein brought himself back to the forefront of his mind, returning to the evil world of heat and sand to realize that several of their number had fallen, completely drained.

"Pick them up," came the command, and two of the children that were still standing laboriously lifted the unconscious forms. "Follow me," was the next command, and the group started off again, into a factory. A short distance out from the building, Ein noticed that Acht, who was barely keeping up with her injured leg, was on her way towards the ground, the damaged limb having folded up on itself from the strain of being abused like this. Without a second thought, Ein reached out and caught her before she hit the ground, steadying her and helping her back to her feet.

"You okay?" he asked, exactly what he had said before, in what was a nearly identicle situation. Minus the running, of course. She frowned, and then..

"I'm fine, thank you." Ein certainly wasn't expecting any gratitude, certainly not from this girl, who either hid her emotions altogether, or wore a negative expression. Before he could do so much as think, though, she pushed herself away and kept moving with the group. Shaking his head, Ein continued on as well, stopping with the rest when they reached the factory.

Zwei was disgusted with the running the physical activities even though as her flesh turned browner like a frying chicken she didn't falter in her slow jogging steps after the fazed almost robotic female. occulars followed as they stopped after their sixth lap for the fallen and dehydrated as they rollowed in to the large barrack the shade was cooling and a small joy to bring as her lips curved down wards watching them as her muscles made a small cramp from stopping the run. Tilting her crania as the dust kicked up slowly and a wave of cooler air slammed over the almost fragile looking bodice, pale eyes roved over some items watching Zuerst slowly smirking almost privatly a though raped her mind.

'so the cold beast has a soul and heart.'

Tilting her head again, Zwei stared at the boys whom passed out waterbottles each child opening them appeasingly and almsot guzzeling them down wards in to their pit of stomachs. One handed to her the cool embrace from the plastick to her rusting palm staring at it and the chilled liquid as others sipped or guzzeled in she was at a ease with shoulders lax and back at a little hunch but that wasn't the point. Her fingers twisted the white cap off the bottle as she brought it to her lips slowly sipping it savouring it planning on saving it a bit if they have to run it would help along the way than the planless stopping as her breasts heave dup wards her internal organs cooled by the clear liquid called water. thoughts coring her mind keeping to her self watching others in observation as she sat her rump to the iced flooring with her lips pursing and her chest raising up and down in breath as she held the bottle of water sipping it occasionally.

Zuerst watched the children empty their water bottles. The mysterious hostess leaned up against the wall right next to the padlocked door. She wore skin tight bodysuit, mostly black with a red stripe along her shoulders. Her long hair was tied up into a bun today. And she was beautiful, it would not be an understatment if one were to say looking at her profile at the right angle was like looking at the profile of a ancient greek goddess of the hunt. Her skin was dark or very tan, no one at this point could tell which. Yes, she was beautiful, and yet there was something about her, a aura of a cold, ruthless predator. Her battle with Sieben and Acht, the wound she suffered, and the morning run in the desert heat did not seem to faze her in the slightest.

Some children still believed they were dreaming. Not becuase of the impossiblity of their current situation, the believed they were dreaming becuase of her. No human could possibly be like her. They believed she was not human, rather some kind of monster... and monsters don't exist, right?

Their were others though, that during that respite began to see her for what she really was... or rather began to see her. She was a predator, true, perhaps even a monster. But that gaze... that gaze was inhuman. It was a the gaze of a wolf as it weens its young. Threatening, promising brutality if provoked, but at the same time, protective. A select few of the children, thought of her as the most beautiful creature they had ever seen.

She continued to sit in silence as the children began to down their second water bottle, Zuerst turned and opened the padlocked door, with a resounding "Tchick!" Several of the children stopped and put down their water bottles, an action that seemed to be commanded through the sub-concsious declaring that their break was over. Others grouped together, another action brought about by some primal instinct.

Slowly, Zuerst pulled the door open. For Inferno, she may have well been opening Pandora's Box.

---------------

"I don't like it," Corpral Lautrice Browning stated bluntly in the furnish barracks their employer had provided for them. Sgt. Millers and Pr. Baack sat across from her, both bare-chested, at the card table.

"Tch! We're sitting on the easiest job on the planet, and the Corpral's complaining," Millers laughed, laying his feet on the small round table. The young Merc. Corpral scowled at the man.

Baack's face lit up for a moment but then grew serious, "Ya, I know what you mean, n***a. Its strange, ya know," a smile overtook Baack's face, "Like why were sitting in Bufu country, while I could be in Los Angeles tapping some white-"

"Please, theirs a lady present, lad, mind your manners," Corpral Barksale spoke up for the first time today from his cot. He rose, and began to get dressed.

"But s**t, man! We ARE in California, for christsake, these kids aren't going anywhere, why do we ALL have to stay here?" Millers tilted his head slight towards Barksale's direction.

"Because thats our orders, lad. Stay here, watch the pips for six monthes, then get paid four and a half million dollars." Barksale responded calmly.

"Which is about half of what we normally charge for one months work! Whats the big guy thinking? I say we earned our R and R after our last contract but I didn't think were were gonna spen in in the middle of a f*****g desert!" Millers shot back, rubbing his sweaty palm up against his forhead. "And for what? Is this some summer death camp? What are they doing out here?"

Corpral Browning sat quietly. "... I don't like it."

---------------------

The door opened, and the smell of polished metal escaped the corridor. The room was bigger than the children would have guessed, and its function was obvious: An armory. Weapons of all shapes and sizes from all walks of life filled the room, wall to wall, floor to ceiling. Though the children could not begin to fathom how many they were, Zuerst recalled their was about sixty-four different types of guns; twenty four different types of pistols (triple of each type), ten shotguns (doubles), and thirty assorted assualt rifles (doubles) for a grand total of one hundred fifty two guns, along with several sets of close combat weapons. Under a hatch which lead to the cross-space of the building sat of fifty-thousand rounds of ammunition, not including the full clip each gun already was loaded with.

"Each of you, pick one," Zuerst bade.

Zwolf approached the center of the room in his turn and picked out his gun from a short rack of small pistols. It was a small, silver-and-black gun. "4003TSW semi-automatic pistol," Zuerst said, nodding approval of his choice. "Classy-looking, nice rate of fire, holds ten bullets, on the whole a nice gun."

Zwolf was still in awe; he was actually holding a weapon in his hands. "Step outside and try it out," Zuerst pushed. Zwolf did so, stepping outside the armory building as other children also filed out and in, having received their guns, or waiting to receive theirs. He aimed at a stop sign about ten meters off and emptied the whole thing, ten shots in the general direction of the stop sign.

All ten bullets left holes in the sign. However, many of them had merely hit the edge of the octagon and sped onward, clattering to the sand after rebounding off the fence beyond. All of a sudden, Zwolf was glad he had fired away from a group of people.

"Nice shooting," said a female voice behind him.

Zwolf whirled around and saw a girl, about the same age as him, behind him. He recognized her from several places; she was in his barracks, and she had been the girl he'd picked up after she fell from heatstroke. Suddenly, Zwolf had a recollection of what had happened the day she succumbed to the desert heat...

****

"Where am I?"

"To be perfectly honest, I don't know," Zwolf heard his own voice say. "I'm as lost and confused as you are. All I know is that we're on some kind of encampment in the desert. We, specifically, are in this room right now, because you fell down from heatstroke when our despotic overlords made us run."

"What does that have to do with you?"

"I picked you up. Don't ask why, I just... felt I had to. One of those instinctive things, you know?"

"Yes, I know the feeling..." the girl said, drifting back into sleep. Zwolf watched as he walked away from her...

****

And now they were here. Zwolf and the girl whose number he did not know, standing before each other. She was armed with an assault rifle, a model the pacific Zwolf did not recognize; he was unlearned in the matter of guns. "Thanks," Zwolf said after a while, in response to her compliment.

"I was being sarcastic."

Zwolf shrugged. "I did better than I expected. Violence isn't my thing... I could never bring myself to kill anyone."

"I understand... sort of. I think I could."

"Could you kill me right now?"

The girl shrugged. "Probably."

"Would you?"

"Do you want me to?"

Zwolf sighed. "Yes, I do... I wish you would..."

The girl brought her assault rifle over her shoulder and made ready to fire. "You mean that?"

"Yes," Zwolf half-sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

The girl pulled the trigger... nothing happened.

"Damn, forgot to take the safety off..."

Zwolf retreated away, sobbing. The girl smiled, content that she had managed to keep him alive a little longer. She knew there were things for Zwolf to do.

(OOC EDIT: Zwolf's gun.
Also changed the revolver thing, I was kinda messed there...)

When it came Ein's turn to take a weapon from the vast assortment that lay before him, he had already spotted the gun he wanted. It was black, and looked slightly heavier than the other pistols around it. What was unmistakably a laser sight was built into the front of it, under the barrel, and it had a suppressor as well. Ein picked it up.

"HK Mk 23 Mod 0." came the cold voice from his right. "More commonly known as the SOCOM. .45 cal, laser aiming module, sound and flash suppressor. 12 rounds to the clip, maximum effective range of 54.70 yards. A good choice." Ein nodded once, and left the factory, in the same direction Zwolf had gone. Upon nearing the shooting range, he noticed Zwolf running off, and he appeared to be.. Crying? Pondering what could make him break down like that, Ein turned to the targets, and noticed a girl, her eyes following Zwolf, an assault rifle casually held in her hands. Turning suddenly, she noticed Ein only a dozen feet away, and their eyes met, both young faces showing no emotion, nothing to give away what they were thinking. After a short while had passed, the girl turned from Ein, brought the rifle up to her shoulder, and calmly began firing single rounds at a distant target. Ein kept his gaze on her for a few seconds, then turned to the target he was closest to.

Ein flipped over the gun in his hands, checking the safety. It was off. He toggled the laser on and off, unscrewed and reattached the suppressor, noting that it took 3 turns to do so. Last, he ejected the clip into his free hand, looked at for a second, and slapped it back in. Raising the SOCOM in his right hand, with his left under it to steady his aim, he took careful aim at the target, a circle roughly 20 yards away, and slowly pulled the trigger. The gun jumped slightly, the recoil sending the barrel up 10-20 degrees. I'll need some practice before I can keep this thing steady while emptying a clip, Ein thought, as he peered at the distant target.. Which had a small hole in it about halfway in from the edge. Taking aim once more, Ein fired again..

(OOC: >>Here<< is the gun Ein picked.)

Neun looked around in awe at the huge collection of firearms in the room. Had she been a firearm fanatic, she would have drooled at the sight. However, she was not, and settled for looking round at the different guns that lay on the racks and shelves.

"Each of you, pick one," came Zuerst's cold voice, and pick one she would. Past experience had told her that obedience was the best option if one wants to survive this unscathed.

She tottered to a side of the room where pistols lay and looked through each carefully. It did not take long for one to catch her eye. She picked up the revolver to inspect it.

"S&W J-Frame Revolver, Bodyguard Airweight." Zuerst commented as she looked over her choice, "9mm, maximum five rounds, lasergrip."

She nodded affirmitively and left the factory, towards the shooting range. She stood 10 yards from one and held up the revolver with two hands. It was not too heavy, but she could not trust her hand to support the weight of the gun.

Aiming carefully at the circle, she made sure that the bright red dot of the laser was near the center of the circle before firing five continuous shots.

[OOC: This is the first time i did research regarding guns, so if there are any mistakes, please do tell me. Anyway, >This< is Neun's gun.]

When you are just starting to cling to the memories you make, isn't the first thing you remember is waking up from a dream? A dream of pictures of your childish life, running by like water, and as you awaken you cup that water.but it seeps through your hands.

You can't catch it!

It will never come back.

When you can't remember anything, it's like you're dead. With no knowledge that people know you, what does your identity mean if you don't even have knowledge of yourself?

You are empty.
You are a shadow.
You are a ghost of a former person.alive by some vengeance or bitterness of life.or perhaps, it's fate.

Memories are your identity. They contain your will and soul.

What can you do without it? How strong are you when you don't know yourself?

Just start over, you could say. Take back what was lost. Where from? How?

Without your learned instinct, you are just in a void being swallowed.

Numb. She felt numb. Like nothing. Like she barely existed, if only because she acknowledged she was aware. Her eyelashes fluttered open, but as the gray sunlight filtered into her polished turquoise pools she closed them, tightly, then opened with a quick adjusting blink. Her head held no thoughts. She didn't wonder about the time. Not about breakfast. Not about her parents or her name. She was operating on her programmed instinct to get up once she was awake. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling above. As she took in the facts that she was breathing, feeling, hearing.she furrowed her pale olive-hued brow a small degree in wonder and awe.

I'm alive.

What did it mean to be alive? Her mind started to jog, she knew basic things, helpful things, at-first-glance- useless things, and everything else was miscellaneous, good-to-know-but-what-the-hell things. A lifetime of information with no clues as to where or when she learned them. From her knowledge she should have pieced together that she had a life that taught it all to her -- but where was it? What was she? Could she talk? She slowly sat up, finding herself in a loose white undershirt and underwear. At the foot of her bed were gray, dull..what looked to be army fatigues. She was too cold to care what she would be wearing. She reached for them, covering her body with the blanket so as to expose herself as little as possible, and slipped into them. As she did she saw many other sleeping children, but few were actually up. They were all children. Some that looked as though they were in elementary school, others as if they'd be high schoolers. Was she that young? She looked at the metal bed railing and saw her reflection -- blurry, but sufficient. She didn't look any older than 15-ish. Her slender hand lifted to lightly to lightly sweep the small locks of her oddly colored hair. It was straight and fell below her cheeks, layered oddly so it looked fuller and a few strands of hair had to be swept from her eyes occasionally. Her hair tone was sable at the roots but for the most part it appeared to have been dyed a green-blue; an aqua. A few strands of stubborn black managed to resist the dye -- bit it didn't look like a sloppy job, rather it went well with the nautical selection of cerulean.

Why have such an outrageous cut and color?

Why..?

She tried so hard to think, each moment her hand, gripping the sheets of the bed tighter and tighter as she was met with the dizzying feeling of nothing. Null. She was empty save for her own knowledge. It slowly dawned on her that she wasn't just having foggy memory.she had less than what she felt in her hazy wake-up. She had nothing. Her hair color, her face, her demeanor.lost. ALL. Lost. All and nothing. They echoed so thunderously in her skull, and she wavered. She gasped softly, her hand falling to her side and she sat with back to the wall on her bed. She gave a contemplative, yet frightened furrow of her brow.

I.I can't remember..no memories of myself.at all! I don't know who I am.or who knows me.I have nothing to go by.I have nothing, absolutely nothing at all!

She stared out at the rousing kids, each of them seemingly worried or upset, apparently for the same reason. They woke up in their robotic fashion to find that they had nothing that was theirs other than knowledge that was spared. But what good was that if you didn't know how you would use it?

Her hand ran nervously through her hair. What kind of a person am I? How am I supposed to handle this? Help! Oh help.

She started to shake, and her vision begun to blur. Her body curled and her knees pulled up and she felt her chest heave and her shoulders shake..her voice came out in soft, frightened sobs and a confused whimper that grew into a louder fury of fear and anger. "B-b-eing m-me feels s-so.empty.wh-where's my me-mem-memories I want to re-remember my mom and my dad! I want to know who I am! Why? Why can't I remember? Why am I here? Who am I? My God, who am I?"

~

She had fallen in the sand when the soldiers pushed them out, pushed by the stranger soldiers and then herded out into the blazing desert. It was there that she learned her purpose, but it didn't soothe her. Nor did her new "name" which she almost didn't catch if she didn't have good memory..

Well.for this new stuff anyway.

It shocked her to learn that she would be a tool. She must have given such a horrible face, for the turns her stomach did couldn't have allowed her show any placidity or anything other than firm disagreement. The idea that she would have to kill a man for her life back was also an unappealing idea. She breathed a bit hard, and bit her lip. She didn't know what to make of it all and put it into a solid argument, but it made her blood run cool and her body feel shaky, yet again.

I'm not that person.I'm not a tool! I won't be empty! I won't! I won't! I won't! I won't!

.I.can't have been that sort of person. No. Never! I was normal! I was right! I was good! I want to.

She gasped and laid a hand over her mouth watching the two girls, Acht and Sieben fight against the one girl called Zuerst. Watching the fight, with wide eyes, she could not only believe the ferocity of the girls but the emotionless gleam that cut into who ever got caught in the web of her stare..the stare of Zuerst.

That is who I'll never be. I swear. She looks about as empty as I felt.I won't be empty like that! I won't be driven to not feel like that! I want to feel and know.like how I'm sure this isn't right!

"Give me back my life!" A boy yelled and tried to attack the cultured man, but was knocked away by a soldier.

Dreizehn -- her numeral (it could never be her name!), the unlucky number 13 -- widened her eyes as she watched his body fly to the ground limp and unconscious, and then lifted her gaze to see the battling girls cringing in pain and/or bleeding. She felt another twist in her stomach. Disgust. She felt disgust for the first time. She felt it on her first day.

She was too afraid to explore, so she had gone straight back to bed. It was an informative first day, but for her it consisted of little else. The bed was uncomfortable, and yet they were expected to rise up early and rested, just the same. She got shoved out roughly, yet again, and probably by the same soldier. Pushing herself up from the white-hot sand she fell in line with the others. She had agreed, true, that this was all wrong, but she hadn't yet found her opportunity to speak her mind and break away.

No one remembered them in the outside world. And she had no idea where she was. It was foolish to run away.and so she had no idea.

They were all here to be fighters.so she must have some skill, but because she couldn't recall anything, she had nothing to go on. All she could do was wait..and be unhappy.

Everyone was jogging, following that empty husk called Zuerst. She had found running to bring a eerie déjà vu, but she couldn't assume anything from it. However, the suffocating heat combined with the fact that they were in a desert and running on sand made it a tad difficult and she was eventually forced to lower her jogging pace. Then, as time and laps expanded, people began to drop. She was losing her vigor as well, but pushed on and fell to her knees when at last they halted. She drank her water as if inhaling it when some was offered. Her lungs were on fire and her muscles felt numb. She slowly managed to pull herself up, but had to support herself against a beam. They were indoors, not out, for which she was grateful. She wondered, however, why they were here. The laps gave her an idea of the locations of things -- she'd seen that intention, but why were they in this building. It became evident soon enough when Zuerst displayed a full arsenal of a killer's toys: weapons, of all shapes, types and sizes. She felt her heart race. She couldn't! She wouldn't!

"Each of you, pick one."

Not meaning to, she stepped forward and looked at the display. She had no intention of picking up a weapon until she caught Zeurst staring at her, and without thinking she grabbed a gun.

"USP tactical. A good choice, .45, 12 rounds, 9 mm. Go practice with it." Zuerst said flatly and coolly, with a stare that seemed to know how afraid she was, and yet at the same time it had a desire to crush that emotion and to make her hollow like herself. It frightened Dreizehn to look at Zuerst. So, promptly, she went outside into the sandy surroundings where a few kids were practicing already and examining their new "toys." Dreizehn was looking down at her gun, cringing at the fired gunshots and feeling pressured and uncomfortable. She didn't want this! Why didn't she say anything? Why was she falling into the parade? This wasn't her! It wasn't her! I wouldn't and couldn't be her!

What should I do?

Her fingers moved around the weapon, unsure of the safest way to hold it. USP tactical was what it was called.it made no difference to her. It was a scary weapon.

Images of Acht and Zeurst fighting sent a chill down her spine and she winced. She held the weapon out, wondering if she should try to fire it, but feeling awkward and torn, she ends up placing her fingers at the barrel, away from the trigger. She looked at it with caution and nervousness.the image of blood seemed to stink up the weapon. She was so lost in her thoughts though.she didn't notice that a blonde boy with blue eyes like frost was eying her mannerisms with a gun and mistaking her expression for confusion and not frustration at the weapon. She jolted as he came up beside her suddenly. "Hold it with one hand. Lightly, not too tight. Steady your aim with your free hand, put it on your wrist or the bottom of the handle. Pull the trigger as you exhale."

She quickly turned to face him, surprised at his knowledge, but she couldn't say anything. His face..it was.devoid of any thought that she could read. Was he annoyed? Friendly? His personality.it was a tossed and gone as hers. Or maybe, he was different. Who knew. She tried to read him further, her hands unmoving on the gun. He continued, probably because he thought she needed more information to get started. "Don't just squeeze it, either. Gently pull back."

That stupid gun. He was telling her how to work the stupid gun! She frowned, looked to the gun and then back to the boy. "Why would I want to learn such a thing? I'm not a killer. I wasn't born into it, why should I learn how to use this gun? I don't WANT to! I want my memory, but I don't want this stupid--!" She trailed, unable to finish because of her emotions. She sighed and turned her head. The boy stared at her, nothing flashing in his eyes, but behind them was the steady, unmarred flow of thought. "None of us want to be here and to be like this, but it's the only option. To suggest otherwise would be foolis--"

"No!"

He didn't get to finish. Foolish. She just felt the urge to hate that word. She didn't want to be called foolish! Not now. Eyes ready to brim with tears, but instead just intensified with fury and pain, burned into his cool orbs of frozen blue. But a naught a split second after did her hand fly, attempting to strike his cheek with a smart slap, but he merely caught it and continued to stare at her. This time, it was a more intense stare. She couldn't tell, but he was surprised by her burst of energy and emotion, even if he was quick enough to catch her strike like he expected it..he certainly didn't. Dreizehn stared back, but this time.a small lacing of tears rimmed her softer, turquoise eyes. In his gentle, yet firm hold on her wrist, she started to falter. Everyone here was a fighter. She couldn't win. She could fight.but what could she gain. She could only try and hold strong.but.this boy.only proved how she could be held back. Why? Why did he ruin her strength in that one instance? Why? "You're..you're afraid!" She suddenly interjected. "You're more afraid than I am, possibly. You act like you know so much more, but you're really just subdued!"

With one last moment of staring into his eyes, she pulled her wrist from his grasp and, looking to her gun, adjusted her grip as best as she could remember. Her hands were shaking..

"Hold it with one hand. Lightly, not too tight. Steady your aim with your free hand, put it on your wrist or the bottom of the handle. Pull the trigger as you exhale."

Ein had noticed the girl with oddly colored hair, and the hesitant, fearful expression earlier, but had no reason whatsoever to say a word to her before now. However, she looked as though she could use a helpful pointer. She hesitated, merely staring at him as though waiting for something. He oblidged with another small bit of advice; where he knew it from, he wasn't sure. But it was there, present in the back of his mind. Once more, he tried not to ponder on the subject of how he knew anything at all about guns, or fighting. "Don't just squeeze it, either. Gently pull back." Her lips shifted from a straight line to a frown, her eyes traveling once over the gun then back to him. The reply was hasty, full of emotion.

"Why would I want to learn such a thing? I'm not a killer. I wasn't born into it, why should I learn how to use this gun? I don't WANT to! I want my memory, but I don't want this stupid--!" Ein could tell she was struggling internally. At what, he didn't know. Most likely just the general situation they were being placed in, the impact of what they were doing, and the guesses at why they were being trained in the art of killing, of murder. He attempted to reason with her.

"None of us want to be here and to be like this, but it's the only option. To suggest otherwise would be foolis--"

"No!" while Ein could see the emotional battle behind her eyes, and knew that she must be trying to think about fifty things at once, probably angry at him, at the people who had taken them, confused at the situation, and so many other feelings, he was still surprised when her hand snapped into motion and made a beeline for his face. So surprised, in fact, that he barely managed to raise his own hand before hers made contact, and catch her wrist in a gentle, yet solid grasp, her palm a scant inch or two from making contact. He kept his rand resting there, lightly, in case she decided to try hitting him again; she didn't. She just looked as if she were still struggling with his words. Her blue eyes, which were probably only few shades lighter in color than his own flashed in.. What? Irritation? Annoyance? Fear? She seemed to be warring with her thoughts almost as much as he had been earlier, only she showed it outwardly; dangerous to do in this place. He almost felt... Sorry, for this girl in front of him. She wasn't aware that being emotional could only lead to problems, yet. "You're..you're afraid!" She suddenly said, breaking the silence. "You're more afraid than I am, possibly. You act like you know so much more, but you're really just subdued!"

This, Ein stopped and thought on. Afraid? Was he afraid, truly? Afraid of the situation he had been put into, afraid of what he was to become, along with all the other children - yes, children. They were no more than a group of children, brought together for the purpose of learning to kill people. The very concept seemed unreal, something that you'd only ever see in a movie, or hear about in books. This kind of thing didn't happen in real life, it shouldn't happen, it had no reason to happen, it was..

An impossible situation, forced upon a group of unlikely children, which is likely too much for some of them to bear. Why do you have to be so cold to them? Granted, one shouldn't be showing emotion in a place like this, but is it truly necessary to drive everyone else away?
-
Yes. I can aid them, I can help them survive as best they can, but I can't be their friend. Much as I'd like to, that will only lead to pain and suffering in a place like this. Zuerst wants us all to be empty shells like herself, emotionless and ready for anything.. Might as well give her what she wants; there's really no alternative but pain.

As soon as Ein realized his hand was still on the girl's wrist, she pulled it abruptly out of his grasp, and spun around, placing her hands on the gun in a more proper fashion.. Although they were shaking. Ein realized that he must have still had the same, cold expression on his face even after she asked him whether or not he was afraid - must not have been what she was expecting. Despite the fact that he should just walk away, should just go on to whatever Zuerst asked of them next, he felt compelled to stay near this particular girl.. For a short while longer, at least.

Why keep talking to her? She's turned away, the talking for her is obviously over. What is there to gain by saying anything else?
-
A shred of humanity, perhaps? Conversation for the sake of conversation? Human contact in a dark, threatening environment?

Answering his own mental question, Ein didn't walk away, but simply cocked his head to the side a little, looking at the back of the girl's head. Several strands of blonde hair fell down across his face, over one eye. He made no effort to brush them away.

"Your hands are shaking." he stated. A sigh came from the figure in front of him, and she turned, eyes closed as if in thought, but they opened again almost instantly. Once more, she looked at his face, and her emotions seemed to commence their very own internal war before a reply escaped her lips.

"Why wouldn't they?" came the reply, slightly agitated, as if the last thing she wanted at the moment was to shoot words back and forth with this particulary boy, who was now commenting on her hands shaking, of all things.

"Shaking hands is one of the worst things for your aim, you know." he commented dryly. So far, everything he'd said had been knowledge that should have helped her put a hole at least somewhere in the target, but she still hadn't fired a shot. Emotional turmoil was probably the best reason for that. She slowly lowered her gaze to her gun, and although it was harder to see her face now, Ein was aware of the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes, although none fell. Simply an expression that told him she was feeling alone, lost, defeated. He knew the feeling well; he had felt it the first day they woke up. However, it seemed as if the other children had a far more difficult time getting over it than he had. Her voice caused him to stop and think, when it finally came, shuddering slightly. It was a voice that actually got through to him, in a way. Perhaps it identified with the deepest part of him, the part he kept hidden deep down inside, that of what they all were, on some level or other. Simply a scared, lonely child.

"I don't know how to make them stop." came the faltering words. Against his better judgement, Ein felt compelled to say something comforting instead of just walking away and leaving the girl to deal with her own emotions. He had the feeling that if he didn't help her, she would be completely alone. Completely alone.. That thought struck a chord inside Ein somewhere, and he identified with it, though he didn't know how. He couldn't leave her, not now. Stepping forward and reaching out an arm, he gently laid a hand on her shoulder. She flinched slightly, but didn't jerk away.

"Look at me." she raised her head, slowly, and her eyes, filled with many emotions, none of them positive, came into contact with his for.. What? The third time that day? Ein leaned slightly closer, and lowered his voice. "I don't want to be here any more than you do. If I could leave, I would; I know you would do the same. But for now, we're trapped. If you ever want to get out, if you ever want to have a chance of leaving, you have to accept and learn what they teach you. It's the only way." He briefly allowed his eyes to drop their cold appearance, and simply looked at her with a normal expression, still not showing any emotion, but without the cold exterior he had displayed since waking up the day before. As soon as he let the frosty air drop, though, it returned of it's own accord. He had to stay distant.

"You're hands are shaking."

Why won't he just leave her alone? He's taunting her.letting her know that she doesn't fit the guidelines of a perfect killer. She will either die a killer or die a fool.is that what he wants to get across? His voice ate at her nerves, teased at her aching mind, echoing her hopelessness and riling it up.

"Shaking hands is one of the worst things for your aim, you know."

Snap. Something inside of her shattered and all spirit exited. In every word he said 'don't bother'.and after a feeble defense that got shattered.she made one last stab at her emotions. She just couldn't lose her feelings to these people.she wouldn't let them take her feelings and thoughts.but.the boy was making her realize more and more how difficult it would be. She was wrong in calling him afraid, and even more so in suggesting he was more afraid. He was pulled together.she was not. She was frantic. She was a mess. But how.how could she just comply and risk losing herself? What little will was left to her? The conflict within herself would never end -- a never-ending torment.

When she managed to voice her final thoughts, that she didn't know how to make her hands stop shaking and comply, there was a brief moment of silence. Gunshots fired and kids were talking, but the two children called Ein and Dreizehn were frozen in a mix of attitudes. She remained looking away, thinking to herself how coldly he must still be gazing at her, but she jumped at the feel of a hand on her shoulder. Her head turned and her turquoise eyes locked onto his own azure stare, yet there was no lining of an icy barrier. It shocked her, mildly albeit, but it erased her emotional overcoat for a moment when he spoke in a voice layered with the hint of understanding and sympathy. Even if what he said wasn't something she believed in.she believed his voice. It was the closest thing to comfort she could expect and accept.she was so alone, but perhaps this boy just took a different approach than she did. But then the icy chill came back, and it shattered her faint thread of comfort and confidence. No.this boy was an emotionless robot and would be just like Zuerst. He only wanted her to do the same! He didn't care like she did! As far as she knew, he chose to abandon his heart upon awaking rather than keep what he had.why should she even bother? She pulled away from him wordlessly, looking away from him and walking a short distance. There was a moment she stood still, thinking, but all she could think about was what he said, ".we're trapped. If you ever want to get out, if you ever want to have a chance of leaving."

She sighed and looked at her gun, raising it.

I have to accept and learn..if I want to leave..if I ever had to compromise.

She tightened her muscles and spread her feet a bit to brace herself as she pulled the trigger with the suggested "gentle squeeze." Her arms only moved a bit after the bullet's release, but for the most part she hit the stop sign she was aiming at. She was trying to hit it's center. It was a few inches from there.yet.if one had been watching her face while she was "aiming," one would have seen she hadn't been concentrating. She sighed as the vibration of the fired gun seeped into her. She still held the gun out.shaken only a bit. She fired another time. And another. She kept hitting the same spot. She wasn't aiming. She just wanted to stop feeling so horrid for firing it. She wanted that emotion gone -- if she had to do, she didn't want to think about it!

No! Emotions are all I have! What am I thinking?

Her eyes closed in an attempt to clear her mind, and she lowered her gun. Reopening then and turning, she found the boy still there. She was breathing only slightly heavily, but she regained composure upon locking eyes with him yet again. Something about his stare.how cool and blocked it was.it seemed odd in the combination of that brief moment that he let it fall.

And what used to annoy her -- talking with him -- she suddenly wished he'd say something helpful again.

She approached him slowly, wanting to say something to get him to talk, but she felt stupid wanting it. As the dumbest excuse ever she lifted a hand. Earlier, as he had cocked his head at her, his hair had fallen to obstruct his one eye. It had been an annoyance, but as she was already upset she hadn't thought about it much. She pushed his one, dirty blonde lock aside for him. He seemed shocked by the odd gesture, but said nothing. He stared at her with inquiry, and that made her blush. She looked to her feet. "Sorry.it bothered me. Besides, it's um.better to have both your eyes when you're aiming, right?"

Stupid! He wasn't practicing!

"Uhm." She started, looking to her feet for a moment longer before looking up at Ein. "How..how can I survive this alone? I feel so lost and afraid of what else I'll lose. I apologize about saying you were just afraid.but." She bit her lip, forgetting about keeping her feelings in check, "I don't want to be emotionless when that's all they left me apart from my own knowledge. It's the only thing I can change to my own will.how -- how do I.?"

She looked away again, afraid of his stare, her own gaze starting to turn a bit cold, but it seemed to be directed inward. "I know I probably say too much.I was wrong to assume you were more afraid than me. I'd be wrong to assume anything. I'm lost and alone.how do I survive alone like this?" And she finally willed herself to stare back into his eyes for an answer to please her.if only for a short while.

Don't leave me alone.

"SIG-Sauer P250 DCc pistol, 9mm, 15 rounds, double action only."

With a nod, Acht acknowledged the comments from Zuerst about the gun she picked, and went out of the armory. But she did not make her way to the shooting range and start trying out the gun immediately. Instead, she went to the side of the building, her mind distracted enough that she did not mind the heat. Leaning against the wall, she stared at the gun in her hand without actually seeing it.

Just now... when Zuerst opened the door and I see the guns... why did I suddenly feel like freaking out? I almost started trembling... And it took me so long to actually pick up this gun even though I knew I wanted it right away... and now... I still want to just drop it and run away from it...

Acht frowned and looked at the pistol, only to discover that her hands were shaking slightly. My hands... what is going on... I'm... not... afraid of guns, am I? I did not feel like that when I handled the knives yesterday... maybe... maybe... something bad happened to me in the past involving guns... but this is ridiculous... I can't even remember what happened...

Realizing how her thoughts was starting to sound hysterically, Acht closed her eyes and leaned her head back, forcing herself to take a few deep breaths until she felt calmer. Somehow, she knew that she had to calm down completely if she wanted to think in the way that could help her, and so she did. Then she resumed her train of thoughts.

It must have been something real bad. Or this fear would not have remained even when my memory is gone. But I can't do anything about that now, so I'll just have to deal with it. I suppose getting used to using guns should help. But how am I going to do that if my hand shakes like that?

Acht wrapped her fingers around the grip of the Sig Sauer and was surprised to discover that having a gun in her hand felt strangely familiar. It was as though she was used to handling one before. Which just made her fear even stranger. She further confirmed her suspicions when she checked the pistol thoroughly with the practised ease of a person used to having guns.

That tempted her to think what kind of life she used to have, that consisted of being trained in physical combat and being familiar with firearms. It would not surprise her if she know how to use the other guns in the armory as well. That was, if she got over her strange illogical fear of guns. But Acht did not wonder about her past further, as she remembered that she was still supposed to practise with the weapon.

Pushing herself away from the wall, she walked away from the building, towards the shooting range. Sparing a brief glance for the other children around, she searched out a target that was not being used by anyone. After finding the distance she wanted, she raised the gun and took aim.

Acht was glad to note that her hands were no longer shaking visibly, although she knew that it would not be steady enough for her to shoot well. Well, that would have to suffice, for now. Eyes fixed on the target, she squeezed the trigger lightly. The bullet shot out of the barrel and quickly made a hole in the target, near enough to the center that Acht was satisfied. And she continued shooting at it.

When she spent the last bullet, she absentmindedly concluded that even though she seemed familiar enough with using guns, it was turning out to become one of the activities she would do just for the sake of doing it. She almost felt more exhausted by this simple activity than by the previous exercise of running. She was definitely not going to enjoy the future firearms activity, even though it would be beneficial for her.

She stared at him, and he stared back at her. Neither one of them spoke, but Ein knew that his expresionless face wasn't helping matters in the slightest. Too late, as he had already adapted to making that his permanent expression here, in this hellish place. Now, now he was actually managing to talk to someone else, someone who wasn't a complete mess, like half the children, and wasn't simply dumbstruck, like most of the rest. She was still thinking coherently, and although her emotions showed through more than she probably wanted, he could tell she was intelligent, and thinking about this whole thing just as much as he was. Abruptly, she pulled away, turning and walking a short distance, to stand in line with one of the distant targets. She spread her feet slightly, tensed up, but was holding the gun as he had suggested earlier. Strangely, that gave him cause to smile inwardly, a smile none of the other children were likely to ever see. He even noted that she gently squeezed the trigger, as opposed to the nervous clenching of fingers he was expecting. She had taken his advice, it appeared. He stayed where he was and watched her fire the gun again, and again, until she stopped. Slowly, she turned around and walked back towards him, causing him to wonder just what she was going to say, going to do this time. After having no memories of interaction with other people in the past, Ein found himself wondering about many things.

What he certainly wasn't expecting, above all else, was for her to touch him. When she hesitantly reached up a hand, and brushed the hair out of his face that he had simply left there, Ein was as surprised as he had ever been in the last two days. A friendly gesture, after he had been nothing but ice and blunt advice to her moments before? He couldn't even catch himself in time before his eyes widened perceptably. He stared at her questioningly, and was once again unprepared for her reaction, which was the slight reddening of her cheeks.

Is she.. Blushing?

"Sorry.it bothered me. Besides, it's um.better to have both your eyes when you're aiming, right?" Ein raised an eyebrow. He wasn't aiming, he had been done when she exited the factory. However, for some reason, he was still here, still talking to her, hadn't gone back inside yet for more instructions. He listened as she lamented their situation, not wanting to lose her emotions, not wanting to become a coldblooded killer like it seemed they would all eventually become, voluntarily or not. He didn't reply again until she was finished. "...how do I survive alone like this?" She didn't look away this time. Instead, she kept staring at him, at his eyes.

I'd think my eyes would make people want to look away, not hold their gaze.

Ein pondered how best to answer that question, the same question he had thought of the day before. How to survive, alone and withouth help, in a situation such as this? What could a lonely, scared child do when faced with the harsh reality of being trained to become a killer? What could you possibly do in that situation? She couldn't adapt as fast as he had, that was obviously impossible, not going to happen. She wanted an answer, he could tell. She didn't want him to stay silent, certainly didn't want him to do nothing other than continue to stare at her with his permanent cold gaze. But what could he say? He was just as trapped as she was, he just didn't show it.

"All I can tell you to do, is to not give up. Don't let them win, don't let them beat you. If they give you something to do, do it, and do it in such a way that impresses them. I'm not telling you to be the best, but I'm telling you to excel at whatever you have to do to please them. The more we please them, the less we have to worry. At least, that's how I see it right now." Ein watched her face for a moment, watched her react to his words. "Just try to get a grip on yourself. Accept things as they come, and try not to ask yourself 'why' all the time. Instead.. Try to take things one step at a time. If you need any help," he continued, and her gaze grew a little more focused, "you can ask. I don't know everything, but asking Zuerst for help probably wouldn't have any.. Positive effects." He started to turn away, but caught himself before he was facing completely away from her. Looking back over his shoulder, he delivered a parting comment. "At the very least, try to hide what you're feeling, if you're not going to lose your emotions entirely. Here, in this place, caring can probably get you killed." With that, he turned his head, and walked off. For whatever reason it was, the memory that lingered most in Ein's mind from their exchange, was the touch of her hand on his face.