At the hesitant invitation of her father, young Marcus entered the house of Katelyn.

"She's in the living room. This way."

Katelyn's mother ordered Marcus to follow her, at which he walked past the father, who seemed to be keeping a glare on him the entire time.

Entering the next room, the door opened to reveal the girl, who was sitting at a reclining chair.

She sat there, looking down with a damp expression, slowly glancing upwards to meet her disappointed eyes with Marcus.

"Have a seat. Do you want something to drink? Juice? Coffee? Tea?"

The mother motioned for Marcus to sit in a recliner across a coffee table from the girl, at which he responded promptly.

"No thank you."

Taking his seat quickly, the boy kept his eyes to the floor as he sat across from the girl.

"Alright. I'll leave you two alone for now. Just call if you need anything."

And then, the mother closed the door as she took her leave.

The two sat in their seats, silent for a few moments.

How many times did Marcus try to speak up?

He had lost count.

Yet each time he opened his mouth, the words which he had planned out beforehand just didn't feel like the right thing to say.

Then, finally, on his 8th attempt, he spoke.

"I lied."

Two simple words.

Words which perhaps one should avoid.

Yet he chose these two to begin - for he understood one thing.

This was the truth.

"I told you... a lot of things. I... looked down on you... I underestimated you... and I told you more lies than I can count in order to make up for the fact that I had done such things."

Looking up to the girl, the boy met his eyes with her as he witnessed her expression.

She was smiling.

Yet it was a horrible smile, filled with pain and suffering.

A smile which masked every last emotion, holding back a dam of tears as she pretended like she was alright.

"But the biggest lie that I told... was that I would be there for you."

Standing up, the boy closed his eyes as he once more bowed down to the floor.

"I ran."

As he lowered himself in his plea - the boy did not expect forgiveness.

"I won't deny it, and I won't try to make any excuses. I ran. I was scared. And I was going to let the bear eat you in order to escape with my own life."

But even if he did not expect forgiveness, he still bowed down before her in apology - for this was his responsibility.

If he was not able to protect her, if he was not able to stay by her side, then he would instead at least allow himself to be humiliated in this manner.

For such a thing was nothing compared to the consequences which may have occurred otherwise.

"I..."

The girl spoke up to say something, but she herself didn't know what to say.

Did she hate him?

Did she want to step on him, stomp him, pull his hair out, kick him, spit on him?

Perhaps.

A part of her wanted to do such a thing.

Yet another part of her wanted to forgive.

Another part of her wanted to understand.

She knew that there was nothing he could do.

She knew that even if he had run or fought, that if the hunter had not shown up, that both of them likely would have died.

And if he had fought - both of them would certainly have died.

Logically, the correct answer was for him to run.

She was already as good as dead in such a situation.

Yet her emotions rejected such logic.

For she had been abandoned.

"I don't want to hate you.", the girl whispered.

Turning away, she found herself unable to face him.

"But I can't bring myself not to."

The boy looked up to the girl, anticipation in his expression.

"So from now on... let's not be friends."

And the girl laid these words on him, to which he merely nodded promptly.

"But let's not be enemies either."

----

Marcus had gone on to continue his schooling.

He continued on with his life, focusing on his studies without giving much thought to anything else as he grew older.

Yet not a day passed by that he hadn't thought about this experience.

His false heroism, the lies he told, all of these things weighed deeply on him.

And as such, Marcus cut himself off from those around him.

"Hey. You never really talk to anyone. Everything alright? You wanna go see a movie with us?"

"I'm not interested."

"Hey, you're always getting good grades on the tests. Can you help me study later?"

"No."

"Eh? You don't have to be so blunt-"

"Do you have anything else to say? I'm quite busy, so if you don't then I would prefer it if you allowed me to return to my tasks."

Marcus isolated himself.

He studied and did well in school, he continued his successes in college, and worked hard all his life in order to obtain a stable career - yet all this time, he avoided any and all human relationships.

For he never again wanted to make any promises to anyone - only to disappoint them.

'I will take care of myself.'

'I will trust only myself.'

'And I will never allow anyone to rely on me.'

He became successful.

He glided through college without issues.

He never drank. He never partied. He never got into trouble.

"Hey man, you wanna come with me to this banger of a shebang later? All the babes are gonna be there-"

"Absolutely not."

"Eh? Dude, what's your problem? You don't like women? There’s gonna be plenty of guys too if-"

"Not interested. I have more important things to consider. Now if you'll excuse me, I have studying to do."

He passed college with flying colors.

A perfect GPA, perfect attendance, and perfect scores on almost all his tests.

He was what many would consider a prodigy - however Marcus knew and understood that he was no such thing.

A prodigy is someone who is born with skill, yet Marcus was merely the average person.

His intelligence was only slightly above average, and it was not what made him capable of such achievements.

Rather, it was simply the fact that he had absolutely no goal.

Having cut himself off completely from any and all human relationships, life seemed to become more and more pointless as he grew older - and that was why his career was the only thing that he even thought of.

'I need to do perfect on this test.'

'I need to get an A in this class.'

'I need to get a job in a large company.'

These simple goals were the only entertainment that Marcus had in his dreary life.

He would work, achieve them, and move on to the next goal.

And as such, his life became a cycle.

Study, test, pass. Study, test, pass.

Eventually he graduated, and he received a job at the Company which he worked at for a few years - Marcel Incorporated.

A company which had its hands in just about every field and area, Marcus worked in the sales department, tasked with advertising products and dealing with clients.

And it was at this point in his life that Marcus truly realized that relationships with other people were nothing more than a burden.

He was assigned as a manager of an incompetent team, always put in a bad position by those above him.

The CEO seemed to use him for whatever dirty work he needed done, placing the most undesirable cleanup tasks on the group that Marcus led - ultimately leaving the responsibility on Marcus.

Surrounded by a group of fools who only wanted to raise their position and had no intention of getting any actual work done, Marcus became accustomed to being used - doing everything on his own without assistance as his irritation with people grew.

Yet each day he calmed himself.

'I shouldn't trust anyone else... just as they shouldn't trust in me.'

'I'm not here to be some sort of prodigy. I'm not here to work miracles and get everything done in a single day. I'm here to work... and to make a living. That is all.'

As such, each day passed - and another one came.

The weekend would come, and just as quickly as it came, it would leave.

And once again, Marcus would show up to work in the morning.

He would greet his team with a false smile, maybe make some small talk as they pretended like they were getting things done, and then head to his office to start on all the work which nobody else had taken up for themselves.

And then after a long day of work, sometimes including overtime hours in order to compensate for the fact that he had to take on the work of five, he would head home for the night - greeted by no wife nor any children.

'Sylvia really was the only worker who actually got anything done, now that I think about it.', Marcus thought as his life seemed to speed before him.

And then, eventually, that day came.

That horrible day in which he lost his temper after years of holding himself back from releasing any emotions.

He was fired, set up by his incompetent coworkers.

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Yet even that was only the beginning.

For on that particular night, he had first encountered the thing within him.

The thing which had ruined the world and destroyed his sanity time and time again, continuing to work towards a goal which Marcus still didn't quite understand.

'You know... I think I've grown quite a bit, Seven.'

As he looked back on these events, Marcus made this statement as he uttered these words.

Even as he spoke to the thing that ruined everything about his life, his voice contained a strange hint of gratitude.

'I won't thank you for everything you've done... but I won't say that I'm not thankful either.'

----

[What would you do if I were to leave your body and return to my own, or find another host?]

The memory had ended.

[Would you try to continue living with a rotten and unhealing body, devoid of my power and left with only a single life?]

Yet even though the memory had ended, Marcus once more found himself within the abyss.

[What would you do with that single life, Marcus?]

Typically when he had died, after experiencing whatever memory Seven had shown to him, he would awaken from it as if waking up from a dream - yet this time was different.

[Would you kill yourself - as you have attempted to do before?]

And as Marcus was forced to wait in the abyss, Seven spoke to him.

[Would you end it all just so that you wouldn't have to suffer any further?]

With a snide chuckle, the parasite mocked the man as he spoke.

[Or perhaps you would instead struggle to survive?]

Yet even as he mocked him, Marcus did not shout out - nor did he stop the creature from speaking.

[Would you do as you did against that animal, running away when you encountered something which you could never possibly hope to defeat... even if it meant abandoning those who you care about?]

As if his words were sliding by the ears of Marcus, Seven refused to hold back for even a moment as he dug right into the wounds of the man.

[Or would you die pointlessly, mustering up a foolish sense of courage as you take on something which you could never possibly hope to face on your own?]

"I've never been a fan of honor."

Yet the manner in which the man replied to the creature was with exhaustion in his voice.

"I've never been one to bother with gaining recognition or merit... and looking back on the situation... I understand that running was likely the CORRECT answer."

Perhaps he would have nodded, placing one hand to his chin in thought - had the man a body to do so.

"Yes... that was the correct answer. After all, even if I had put on a brave front and protected the girl, it would not have brought about any good."

With an analyzing tone, the man reminisced without emotion.

"The opposite. Perhaps the bear would have been provoked to strike even sooner, and the bullet of that hunter would have arrived after it had swung and killed me."

If he had them, he would have closed his eyes as the man let out a light laugh.

"Yet... despite the fact that it is logical... despite the fact that it is correct... that does not mean that it is right."

[What would be right then?]

Proposing this question to the man, the creature probed further, at which the man let out a sigh.

"Previously, I failed to stand up for the woman whom I should have protected. And even now... I am no different. But if I truly had only a single life remaining... then I would try to live. And if living was not an option..."

With a pause, the man spoke into the darkness of the abyss as all became quiet.

"Then I suppose I would work myself to death to ensure that my death would be of use to her."

Silence.

[And if even after trying your hardest, your death would be of no use?]

After moments had passed, Seven posed yet another question.

Similar in nature, yet going one step further as he dug deep into the mind of the man whose mind he had invaded.

"If it was still of no use... then I suppose I would just die. After all... that would be a fitting end for such a failure of a man."

Lowering his tone, the man spoke with a fierce dedication as his soft words echoed through the void.

"For a man is supposed to protect his woman."

----

"Tell me everything."

A young girl held a knife to the throat of a man.

This man, whose brown hair had been completely buzzed, stood perfectly still as he was held to knifepoint.

The slightest movement would draw blood from his neck.

He wore the outfit of a police officer, and carried a gun at his side, however he did not reach for such a thing.

"I'll tell you what you want to hear, but is it really necessary to threaten me like this?"

"..."

"I'll give you my weapons, if that's what you want. Here. Take them."

"Don't move your arm. I'll get them myself."

As the man reached for the weapon, the girl pressed the knife even closer to the neck of the man as she herself reached for the gun and the baton at his side, swiftly disarming him before pulling back.

Checking the magazine of the gun as she scanned the number of bullets, the girl slid it back in as she loaded it, placing it at her side as if she was experienced in the use of firearms.

Of course - she was.

"Ah... this isn't something you see every day. A little girl who can use a pistol like they've been doing so their entire life... hah... the world really is ruined, isn't it?"

Falling back to his rump, the man sat back as he leaned against a wall with a distraught expression.

"Everything has gone crazy... there are those monsters... and the zombies too.... ahh... sorry, I'm just a bit overwhelmed by all this. I'll tell you what I know. Sit down."

The blue haired girl merely nodded her head ‘no’ as the man motioned for her to sit, to which he looked at her with a slight bit of pity.

"Too suspicious of me to even sit, eh? Or maybe you're just like that? Well, I don't blame you."

Then, his tone lowering, he whispered just loud enough for the girl to catch the man's words.

"There are a lot of reasons not to trust people."

"That is correct. Which is why I won't sit down until I understand whether you are an enemy or not."

"Does that mean you'll trust me if you determine me to not be an enemy?"

"No."

With a quick response, the girl analyzed the man from afar, keeping watch on his every movement.

"It will mean that I'll have even more reason to destroy you when you betray us."

With such straightforward and honest answers, the girl didn't hold back for an instant as she threatened the man, at which he could do nothing more than laugh.

"Heh... haha..."

"Why are you laughing?"

Thinning her eyes as she kept them on the man, the girl gripped the gun which she had confiscated from the man.

"Oh... well, I just think it's funny. No... it shouldn't be funny. But it is. A little girl like you, able to take control of a cop like me. It would be the other way around normally. I'd shout out something like 'Freeze!', or 'Put your hands up! Get on the ground!', and anyone and everyone who has any sense of fear would obey me."

Looking towards the ceiling, the man smiled bitterly as he spoke.

"Because I had power. And yet..."

With a deep breath, the man continued looking upwards without even glancing at the girl.

"I was so powerless."

"You keep on talking to yourself, saying things that I can't make anything of. Enough of that. I need information, and you need to not get shot."

"Do I really need that? Well, where should I start then? From the time I was born? From the time I started high school? Maybe from the time I first got a job as a rookie? Or perhaps... starting from the apocalypse?"

Glancing at the girl even as a firearm was pointed at him, the man looked at the girl without fear.

It was not that he believed she would not shoot him.

No, he understood the glare in her eyes well.

It was the glare of a killer.

The glare of someone who cared not about taking a life, and would do so without a second thought.

He knew this all too well.

His confidence didn’t stem from the fact that he believed his information to be indispensable either.

Not in his mind, nor in the mind of the girl.

She wanted his information, yet if she felt that he was giving her too much trouble, she would quickly decide to eliminate him.

That much, the young cop understood.

Yet there was one simple reason why he tested the girl in such a manner.

He cared not about his own death.

"Who you are. Why you are with that man. And what your goal is. These are the answers I need."

"I guess I'll start with who I am then."

Standing up, the man reached into the pocket of his uniform, at which the girl immediately pointed the gun straight at his forehead.

However, instead of pulling out a weapon, the man pulled out something else.

A badge.

"Officer George Troladi. Shortenmire P.D."

----