Snip.

The sharp noise startled Kint. He swiveled, looking around for its source.

Snip.

It was right by his ear this time. Kint shot a look in the direction of the noise, hoping to steal a glance at the culprit.

Nothing.

"Who's there?" He asked, voice drifting into the darkness. Echoing through a space of unknown size.

"Shhhh." A soft female voice whispered.

He spun around again, swiveling on the axel of a leather backed chair. The voice had come from behind him, but he hadn't been quick enough to see. There was nothing to see. He was surrounded by darkness. A single light shown down upon him, from a hidden source.

A giggle rippled around him, echoing across invisible walls, circling him. He recognized its timber.

"Nessa?" He asked, hesitantly. He scoured the darkness, eyes searching for a hint of his daughters freckled face.

Gentle hands gripped both sides of his head, directing him to face forward.

"Stay still Papa." She giggled again, voice coming clearer this time. Behind his head. "You need a haircut."

Another Snip. He felt a tingle atop his right ear as falling hair drifted past.

"Alright." Kint muttered, leaning back into stiff leather cushioning. He began to relax a bit, letting himself enjoy the soothing sounds of snapping scissors.

As the hair fell from his head, his anxieties began to fall away as well. Even with his sharp words earlier, he'd never been able to stay mad at his daughter. She was too precious to him. Too singular in his life. Even if he had a right to mad at her, even if she'd done some great wrong against him, he would surely apologize before things got too sour between them. His relationship with Nessa was so novel compared to everything else he'd ever experienced. He could not risk it.

Snip. Snip.

Not that Nessa would ever let it get close to that.

Snip.

She had a way of soothing or diverting every major argument or altercation they'd ever had.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

Every time they got close to a blow up, or she did something that made Kint truly irritated, she would diffuse the situation immediatly.

Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip.

Knowing exactly what to say, and how to say it. Sensing that his mood was not one to be tested.

Snip.

"Hey!" Kint chirped. "I'd like to have some hair left at the end of this."

Another giggle. "Hush. Papa." She soothed.

"hmph." Kint grunted. "What's this new look you're giving me?"

"It'll be good, Papa." She assure him. "You'll see. But not until the end."

He grumbled again, readjusting himself in annoyance in the stiff leather chair. He wished he could see what she was doing.

Snip. Snip.

He'd had hair past his ears for at least as long as he'd been in District 13.

Snip snip snip.

He didn't care about how he look over much, but with how much she was cutting, Kint was starting to get worried. His head was feeling lighter.

Snip snip... snip... Stab!

An intense stabbing pain lanced through the side of his head.

"God's above Nessa!" He screamed. "Stop!"

The stabbing pain continued. Expanded even. Becoming deeper and deeper. It moved around his head, slowly making its way in a circle.

"Stop it Nessa!" He yelled, reaching his hands up to stop hers from doing any more damage.

But he couldn't. When he tried to lift his hands, he found them stapped down to the arms of the chair.

The slicing and sawing continued, making it's way around his skull. He felt blood streaming from open wounds that he could not see.

"Gods! Please!" He raged. But there was no response, only the slow, plodding pinching, slicing, and sawing across his skull. "Nessa! Please! I'm begging you! Please stop this madness."

Blood poured across his eyes as the persistent blade made it's way around to his forehead. His vision went red. It was on the verge of going black. The pain was so intense. He was going to pass out.

And then it stopped. The sawing stopped, the pain stopped. He felt a twist across the crown of his head. Then a peeling sound hit his ears. Then... Finally... he passed out.

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

"Papa?" He heard a muffled voice through the darkness. "Papa...?" Again the sweet voice came.

Kint blinked twice, eyes fluttering awake. His vision was blurry, his mind struggled to bring the world to focus. But, blessedly, the pain was gone.

"Papa are you okay?" His daughters voice came again from his right. He turned, feeling his head and hands no longer locked in place. He looked up from his chair... and there she was. The sweet freckled face of his daughter. She was holding a pair of scissors in one hand, her face full of innocence and concern.

"Are you alright Papa?" She asked again, cocking her head as she examined him. "You were screaming and yelling. And then you passed out. I didn't know what to do." She pouted.

Kint looked his daughter in the eyes. There was redness, a history of tears. She had been truly concerned for him. His gaze drifted to the scissors in her hand. They were clean. No blood, no skin, no evidence of the torturous acts he'd experienced before he'd blacked out.

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He looked again at his daughter, confused as to what he'd just experienced, but guilty at the same time for thinking her capable of such horrors.

"I--" He began, gathering his wits. "I'm okay... I think." He soothed, voice still shaking with the memory of pain.

He raised a hand to his head but Nessa stopped him, gently pushing the appendage back to the chairs arm.

"Not yet, Papa." She soothed. He turned to her again in confusion. She smiled at him, such earnest innocence was in her eyes, in that freckled smile. He put his worries aside. She nodded in enthusiastic ascent. Skipping back behind him with her scissors.

"Be careful with those Scissors, Sweetheart." Kint admonished. "They can be dangerous." The Inspector shuddered, as he felt the phantom pain creep back around his head again as he said the words.

"Oh don't worry, Papa." The voice came from behind his head. "I'm not going to be using those anymore."

Kint's brow furrowed. There was something different about Nessa's voice. It was the same pitch and timber... but there was a confidence to it, a cadence that was off.

"Incredible." Her voice came again. "So many levers... At such a young age." Again it was so different. It had an upper class air to it. A refined quality that had never been there before.

"Nessa... Wha--" Kint shuddered. His mouth stopped. His whole body was frozen.

"That's enough questions." The childish voice that was not his daughters stated.

Kint stuggled desperately to move. He tried to scream. To no avail. All he could manage was the twitch of finger as a drip of blood spilled across his temple from his open skull.

"I wouldn't fight too hard if I was you." The possesed voice warned. "The mesh across your mind is quite extensive. If you resist it too much this late in the game, you're as likely to make yourself a dullard as anything."

Rage coursed through Kint's veins as this thing, whatever it was, spoke such casual warnings in his daughters voice. His teeth would be grinding like a mill if he weren't paralyzed.

"We'll work on that." The childish voice quipped. "Now. I'm going to ask you some questions, Kint. And I want truthful answers. Not like the one's you told in your stories." The things admonished. "I want the whole truth. The Truth as you see it."

His head shuddered again, muscles twitching below his left eye. He felt a drop of blood fall from his lip as it trickled from his nose. He needed to turn his head, needed to see what thing was to tormented him with Nessa's voice.

"Let's start with an easy on." The girl began. "Do you believe in the Prophet?"

Kint did not answer. He would not answer, even if he could speak. He would not bow to this thing.

He felt a vibrating pulse ripple through his mind, his vision blurred.

"I believe that he existed." The words spilled forth. He could not stop them.

"And the Brotherhood? What about them?" The child asked.

Another vibration. Kint opened his mouth. Only a hollow breath came out.

He would fight it. This thing could not control him.

Several more vibrations rocked his skull, from multiple places across his brain.

"It may have once." Kint began, unable to keep the words in. "But not for long. The Apostle Families probably destroyed it in the Second Age."

"Not bad, Papa."

Tremors went through Kint's arms as Kints anger boiled higher.

"How about the Gods." The girl continued, uncaring. "Do you believe in them?"

"Yes." Kint admitted, this time without the mind bending vibrations.

"And what about The Shattered?"

"I'm starting to." The inspector grumbled.

"I knew I liked you, Papa." The child smiled.

Kint's nostrils flared as heat blew through them. He could not stand how this thing said that word. 'Papa'. It was driving him mad.

"Let's dive a little deeper, shall we." The demon said, "This morning, when your partner went in to do the cleansing, you did not. Why?"

Had this thing been following him?

Another vibration rippled through him when Kint did not reply.

He opened his mouth, "I--I don't like the smell." He grunted.

"Cheeky... And true I'm sure" The girl said, he could hear the grin in her voice. "But I want a real answer."

The Spector felt vibrations across the front of his head. He saw blood on the floor of a small Mage Grown Government house. A body was there. Dark hair... A knife protruding from her chest. His mouth opened of it's own accord. "B-Bad memories." He uttered. Kint was determined not to give this thing what it wanted.

"Interesting..." The girl pondered. Kint could hear small footsteps pacing around behind his head. He shifted his eyes to the point of pain, willing them to see farther into the peripheree.

"What about this afternoon?" The Childish voice inquired. "You seemed different at the Syfeeli house. More focused... Why is that?"

How closely was this thing watching him? More vibrations.

"I-- I saw that this case could be a problem for my family. So I wanted it solved quickly."

"Did you enjoy it?" Asked the girl.

"I-- I don't understand." He replied, not needing to be forced.

"Did you enjoy it?" The thing repeated. "Solving the murder. Commanding the room as you did. Using your powers for the first time in so long."

Another ripple in his mind. "I--" He paused. For some reason he felt he needed to fight these words especially hard.

More ripples, more vibrations. Vibrations to the point of pain. He felt his vision blurring.

"Yesss..." He spat. The words finally jarring loose. He was breathing heavy, like he'd just sprinted a few hundred yards.

"tsk, tsk, tsk." The Girl clicked. "You are a tough one Mr. Kint. Again, let's try not to fight too hard. You still have to care for this little girl when you wake."

Kint's breathing slowed. He could feel the blood was coming down in a steady flow from his nose and eyes now. But at least he had a bit more information now. Based on the demon's words, he could confirm that this was some sort of dream... So maybe it wouldn't matter how much he went through in here?

No... He felt somehow that wasn't right. This being's words had rung true. If he pushed too hard against it, he could feel that his mind would be broken.

"It's okay though... just a few more questions, and i'll have what I need." Soothed the girl. Kint heard the footsteps come closer from behind him. He felt hot breath brush past his ear as she whispered. "Did you love your wife, Inspector Kint?"

Vibrations, pain, he felt nauseous.

"I don't know..." He admitted. The words leaving him like a heavy sigh. Deflating him somewhat.

"Do you love your daughter?" The thing cooed.

"Yes." Kint snapped, eagerly jumping at this answer.

The being paused in it's pacing. "How can you be sure? Have you ever felt love before?" It questioned. "Do you know what love is? With the blood on your hands... do you even have the capacity for it?"

"H-I--" Noises escaped his thoat, distressed gasps. There were no vibrations, no ripples. The demon's words had hit him like a ton of bricks. His mind reeled as the thing saw through his deepest barriers.

"Tell me Papa..." The thing continued. "What is it that you fear most?" It asked, as its footsteps drifted out from behind him, circling to the front.

The inspectors eyes caught sight of the thing, following its diminutive form as it made its way to stand facing him. There was a ringing in his ears. It pulsed throughout his mind.

The thing really was the spitting image of his daughter. That dark blue dress, freckled cheeks and nose, dark hair. The only thing that marked her out as something foreign was that sadistic grin, and a pair of gleaming, crimson eyes. She stood there for a moment, examining his exhausted form, hands behind her back in a casual confidence.

She sighed. "You're not ready yet... I think." That smile turning down to a pitying frown. "Maybe you never will be." She sighed, pulling her hand from behind her back to reveal a set of bloody scissors. "But you're the best I've got."

The girl that looked like his daughter approached him, laying her empty left hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eyes.

"I'm going to try and help you Kint." She intoned. "These next few days will test you and push you in ways that you're not ready for... But hopefully..." She paused, shaking her head slightly. "Hopefully, when the time comes you'll be ready to do what must be done." The girl lifted the scissors in front of her eyes, glancing at them in consternation. "You'll be ready to set her free."

She looked back at him with a white hot intensity that cleared his mind with its power. The dark world of the dream went silent as she pulled her hand back.

"Set her free Kint." She whispered.

The hand came down, stabbing the scissors into Kint's chest with a thud.

He gasped. He shot up, rising from his bed like rising from the dead. His breath game in heaving gulps. He put his hand to his chest... There was nothing there.

His breathing slowed and looked to his bedside window where the early morning sunlight shone.

"Papa...?" A child's voice spoke.

Kint's eyes shot towards his door with a fierce intensity, he reached for his knife, ready to attack.

But it was only her. Only his beautiful daughter standing in the doorway. cloaked in her youthful innocence. He took in a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh.

"Papa... Are you okay?" She asked, triggering a shadow of pain across his scalp.

"I--" He hesitated, still feeling that phantom pain. "Yes, Sweetheart. I think so."