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The blankets curl around your legs, encasing blotched skin beneath ripped denim in soft, woolly comfort. Your back is pressed against a pillow, the stuffing slouched down in the fabric. The bandages around you hands make it difficult to type, but you struggle on anyway. You had to finish taking down the firewall. It was the only way to wipe your information off the net. After a few more minutes of furious typing, you manged to get past it. A few more clicks, and (f/n) (l/n) didn't exist.

You stretched, flinching slightly as the long gash over your ribs was jostled by the movement. You slid your socked feet off of the bed, and into a pair of knee-high combat boots. Pushing your the slipping hood of your (f/c) hoodie back up, you leave your apartment, and head for the stairs of the grungy building.

Walking over the tall rooftop, you sank down at the edge. Your legs dangle over the side of the building. A cool night breeze blows on your face, brushing short strands of hair out of your eyes.

You had to limit the amount of time you spent outside everyday to a minimum. The chance that they would find you again was too great. The streets practically had ears, and any whisper of your whereabouts was enough for them to find you, and you would be forced to leave again, or else face another encounter like the last time (the marks of which still littered your body).

Suddenly, the wind picked up. You get the uncomfortable feeling that you are being watched. Your hand went nervously to the thigh sheathe on your leg. You You always carry at least two weapons with you, in the dingy and suspicious neighborhood you had settled into. There were two electric eskrima sticks, metal rods that lit up with blue streaks each time they were activated, inside each boot, but you always carried a dagger anyways.

You stood; it was time to go. You turned around, but there was a huge black, writhing... something... blocking your path. The, whatever it was, was slowly but surely starting to suck you in. The wind was definitely going faster now, and you were beginning to lose your footing. You made a lunge for the edge of the building, your body screaming in protest at the sudden movement, in an effort to hold onto something. Your legs were soon sucked out behind you, pulling you back into the black void. Your fingers were losing their grip on the edge. You were slipping.....

You were gone. Tumbling through the blackness, spiraling into nothing. You closed your eyes, not being able to tell the difference between when they had been open and now. And suddenly there were things hitting your body. You opened your eyes in confusion, and almost immediately regretted it. Bright light shone in your eyes, and you were momentarily blinded. Leaves and branches whipped at you, scratching and clawing at your already torn skin. You landed with a hard thud on the ground. Pain shot through your body, leaving you momentarily winded and gasping for air.

You lay still, eyes closed. Partly because you were aching all over, and because you could hear someone approaching. The slight shifting of leaves was barely discernible. The someone turned out to be a something, when what seemed to be a dog sniffed at your face. You could feel it's hot breath, and could smell the scent of... blood. Of course. You had become far too accustomed to the smell of the red substance to be in any doubt of what it was. The dog whined, and someone else came tramping over toward you, grumbling audibly.

"What the fuck, Smile?" The voice snarled. "It's almost daybreak. We have to get back."

The dog, apparently called Smile, whined again. The person seemed to notice you, sprawled on the ground. You heard them crouch down beside you, and felt incredibly cold fingers brush the hair hiding your face out of the way. A moment of silence. Then, "You've got to be shitting me. You want me to bring her back?!" The dog whined again. "Fine."

You felt someone's hands on your forearms. You were pulled off of the ground, and then you were pressed against someone's back, piggy-back style. Your cheek pressed against their shoulder blade, you fell asleep to the gentle sway of their footsteps, the smell of blood filling your nose.

Time skip~

When you next open your eyes, you stare up at a white ceiling, with splatters of something that looked suspiciously like dried blood. From somewhere else in the building, you could hear raised voices (Who the fuck doesn't kill a victim when they're right in front of them?! (Smile does, apparently.))

Their voices hurt, and for the first time since you had been sucked onto that inky blackness, you became aware of the harsh pain in emanating from the back of your skull. You groan, throwing an arm over your aching eyes. You decided that they had found you at last, and were going to kill you. You felt very little fear; you had known this was coming for a while. The voices ceased, probably hearing you. Then out of a door came a little girl.

You stared at her. She was very small, withe a mane of curly brown hair, and a ripped pink dress. She was barefoot, and covered in cuts and scratches, blood running in trickling rivets down her body. When she met your gaze, she smiled brightly and chirped, "Hi!"

You blink uncertainly. Her smile softened slightly. "It's okay. We won't hurt you." At this, you raise your eyebrows. She giggled. Then she turned her head and yelled into the other room, "Daddy, she's awake!" Daddy? You thought in bewilderment. But your question was answered almost immediately. A tall, thin man dressed in a suit entered. Except he wasn't exactly... human. His skin was pearly white, and... he had no face. Then, in your head, you heard a voice, with a heavy German accent. "Who are you?"

The voice seemed to jolt you out of your nonplussed silence. "Why would I tell you that?" You answer snappily. "Because, Fraulein, you are in no position to ask questions."

You huff, and then say "(f/n). (f/n) (l/n)." The man frowns. Well. as much as he can, considering he has no face. Abruptly, he asks, "Have you killed?" You look away. "Zhen you have..."

"Um, can I ask a question?" You slip the words into the silence uncertainly.

"Yes."

"Who are you?"