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"I'll be out with someone else. You bring him here and interrogate him. He better be here when I am, or else we're going to have problems."

The woman grabbed her coat off of the hook behind the door and slipped into it. The man that she was talking to stood there, looking at her nervously.

"Well? He's downstairs, go get him." The woman opened and shut the door hard, shocking the man back into reality.

"Oh boy... keeping him here will be most of my troubles..."

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I glanced at the cracks that were strewn and carved into the walls of the flickering hallway. I sighed and shoved my hands in my pockets, seeing if there was anything else to eat in them.

The man in front continued to walk, with me following obediently behind him. After a couple more steps, the man pulled out a set of keys to open a door in front of him, holding it open for me to suggest going inside first.

"Take a seat." The man said, pointing to a metal chair. I did what he ordered, scooting my chair closer to the table silently. I looked around the room before the man closed the door with force, grabbing my attention immediately. He took the seat across from my line of sight.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked me kindly. I peered at him.

"Your blood would quench my thirst just fine." I smirked at him, shaking my head. "Got any orange juice?"

The interrogator was taken back at my awkward request. I leaned back in my chair and looked up, the ceiling staring right back at me. The man eventually started to chuckle, extending his hand towards me.

"The name's Chuck. And according to your record, your name is-" I cut him off by raising my own hand.

"Dagger, sir. Dagger." He nodded, his hand still out towards me. I decided to play dumb and stare at it, looking between his hand and eyes.

"Hmm, I see that you don't know how to do much. Typical for a runaway." I stuck out my tongue at him as he pulled it back.

"So, do you know why you're in here?"

"Because I did something wrong?" I questioned him back.

"No, it's because you've been wandering the streets like a serial killer. The FBI has you as a wanted man, Dagger. Not because you've committed any crimes, at least not any that we know about. You've just been... there."

"Because I've been 'there'? Is that your excuse for you to be stalking me? That wretched woman you call a leader is crazy... Do you know what she does to-"

"She is none of your concern, at least regarding her methods. She just wants to talk to you; to understand you."

"By talk, you mean beating the answers out of me..." I murmured as I watched the door.

"It's been an awfully long time just for orange juice. You're not putting any medications in it, are you?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Listen, we don't want to hurt you. We just want to know your... motives, to say. Your reason why you're roaming the streets." He completely ignored my question. My attention shifted the amulet that hung from my neck. I sighed and looked at the ground.

"I can't tell you. It's... personal."

"We can help you track down a person if you need to, although we're not so willing..." My eyes perked up at the offer. I looked at him, then at the door, which stood a young lady holding my cup of orange juice. She handed it to me, smiling.

"Thank you." I said.

The lady bowed and walked out. I took a sip, feeling the cold liquid slither down my throat. I sighed and pulled up to the table some more, setting the cup on the corner of the metal stand. Chuck glanced at me, almost as if he was afraid of me.

"I don't think you can help me... I would love some help, but I don't think that the police force should take over. I want to do this alone." I proclaimed. Chuck sighed, folding his hands on the table.

"Well, if you can't tell us, then we'll have to keep you here until you do. And I know you don't want that." I growled at him, tightening my fists a bit.

Chuck sighed and shrugged. "Either you tell me or you don't." I shook my head violently, then stopped. I held out my two arms, signalling Chuck to put handcuffs around them.

"Do you really want to do this? All you have to do is tell me why you're on the streets. I know you're not a runaway, or a person to really cause trouble. You're a good person, Dagger."

"So why are you following me? Why do you care about me so much? Everyone in my 'family' doesn't... I just want to see my..."

Chuck smirked as something snapped in my brain. I let my arms down, leaning back in my chair.

"I was ten." I muttered somberly.

"What happened when you were ten?"

I cursed in my head, looking him straight in the eye.

"Fine. But for me to tell you my 'motives', I must tell you from the beginning." Chuck leaned back in his chair as well, nodding.

"Go ahead, I have time."



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