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It has been a good while since his jailors had him read the book, not just any book mind you, but the Bible, and one unlike any other. His resent and hatred for these men grew larger and larger by the second: they were monsters, demons, they wanted him to suffer for their heinous little experiments, maybe just for their morbid sense of humor or insatiable greed for suffering.

But that was before, he didn't know back then.

The lighting fixture above him and his small metallic table flickered and buzzed, but it didn't bother him, he was a messenger with a job to do, for you see, he talked to a very interesting man, and that man told him a story, a story about a father and daughter, one that was cut short far too quickly.

From across the room a red light above flashed in silence while the men guarding moved to open it.

"Dr. Carrion." He said, locking eyes with the meagre looking woman entering the stuffy room.
"D-class" Came the reply through curled lips

From the opposite corner of the room, right next to the grumpier of the guards sat Dr. Neale with his ears covered in a childish but effective attempt to offer privacy and please his superiors at the same time.

"You asked for me by name, i don't recall ever talking to you" she inquired, moving to claim the seat across from him

"Your father is very proud of you Everly." He responded succinctly, yet passionate

The small woman looked at the detainee in front of her, eyes glazed over in shock, stopping mid motion.

"My… father." The words escaping her quivering lips, now uncomfortably dry.

The man in the jumpsuit smiled warmly, and nodded.

"None other than Jeremiah Carrion. He told me about you, and him, and how proud he is of who you've become"

From behind round, thin rimmed glasses came a sharp stare, accompanied by a cold and clinical tone.

"How do you know?" she asked, digging her nails into the underside of the metal table

The tall dark man leaned forward over the table and in a hushed whisper replied.

"He told me. You always said his mouth was running faster than your legs ever could."

The words shoot through her mind, and send it back to her youth, when she was on the school track team, her father always somewhere in view, smiling.

Rising from the chair and hurrying out the door, tremors betraying her stoic facade, the pokerface crumbling with each step, she whispered to no one in particular.

"I'm so sorry" The hiss of the doors masking her apology

A creek drew the detainees attention to the back of the room

"Looks like you got what you wanted" Surmises Dr. Neale, preparing a syringe

"Shame you'll have to forget it"

D-44822 smiles coyly, as his vision and virtues fade to black

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