Author's note: Trigger warning for parental abuse.

Awake. Waking up in the belly of the beast, in a penguin suit and slicked hair, Nathan attempted to orient himself. All he knew was that he'd risen up, and Marni had drawn him up, her hand on his arm tugging, aiding the ascension into clouds and light. She'd been wearing night and murmuring, "Nathan, at last we'll be together." He'd let out a sigh and felt his life leap from him, carrying from him the sins. He was absolved, and understanding came. Rotti's lies. The absolution of the sin Nathan thought he'd committed.

"I love you, dear," she said, and tried to break the barrier between them. Then she shattered, the sky shattered, and he clawed at his fracturing world as it fell apart around him with an unbearable clamor.

He found a knife beside him in the hay, and a lion approached, growling, pacing. Letting his instincts take over, he leapt forth and eviscerated the beast. Blood spattered on his suit, his face; he wiped it off his cheek in irritation. In the lion's belly was a folded note. It was opened on his palm, read: Recall what haunts her.

Nathan frowned. What could that mean?

A giggle, teehee, was heard behind him. He spun, knife flashing. No one, only shadows. The sharp laugh was heard the opposite way, and turning again, Nathan saw a light, leading him out of the dark. An arrow pointed his way, a red arrow with the sign stating "Wick's Wonders of The Underworld!" Discombobulated and lost, he went the only way he could, and there was a striped tent. He went inside.

A girl - woman - was inside, on a moth-eaten armchair, her legs spread. Black lines were painted down from her eyes, and her mouth was red. There were ribbons in her wild hair, and she had a chaotic and childish beauty in her. Her eyes were closed, but when he hesitantly approached, they snapped open, and she bounced to her feet and launched at him, shoving him.

"Why, if it isn't the Repo Man himself!" she taunted. "Come to visit me!"

He shrugged it off, and when she tried to grab at him he delivered a blow to her collarbone. Coughing, she left him alone.

"Okay, guess I deserved that, Nate," she said. "Even if you are a bastard."

He looked away. "Marni said it did not matter. Heaven was my reward for the end of my life. For my good intentions before that."

"Is that what you thought?" a deep, intimidating voice intruded from beneath them. Wick squealed in glee and clapped her hands. "Can you remember no other sin?"

"Oh, make an appearance, Master, please!" she begged, jumping up and down, her breasts bouncing. There was silence, and she pouted. "Oh well. He's right."

She clutched at his lapels and swung him about, round and round, until he was dizzy and shouting for her to stop. Giddily, she said "Nope, nope, can't do that!" and gave a laugh, shoving him into the chair.

Nathan thought he might be sick. She let him recover for a full minute before she drew herself up and descended on him, sitting astride his lap. Her hand caressed his cheek. "Don't you recall?" she asked sweetly.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying in vain to remember Marni's perfume, the touch of her hand, the feel of her warm body. Alive and wholesome. The woman, who he supposed was Wick, nestled closer and put her mouth close to his neck, breathing close to his ear. Her hand went between his legs. "Remember now?" she teased, rubbing. "Daddy?"

"What?"

How could she have known? Even he barely knew... It had been a dark and bitter hour, one he had chosen to neither regret nor remember. Besides, she couldn't have known what was happening. She'd been so young. His face must have registered the shock of recognition to her reference.

"Daddy. Did you force me? Was I little enough to fight back? Did you whisper sweet nothings?" she whispered, grinding down on his lap. He groaned and put his head back.

"No. No, you're wrong. Don't... don't talk like you're my daughter."

"Then you did do it to your daughter. Ooh, what a bad man you are." She laughed at him, got off his lap, tugged his hair hard. "Tell me all about it! Don't make me narrate it."

"There's nothing to tell," Nathan protested angrily.

"Oh, fine. Meanie." She stuck out her tongue and went on with the horror. "Up in the middle of the night. Couldn't sleep. Hard on for love, for your wife. How am I doing so far, Nate?" He did not dignify her story with a response. "And little Shilo, not even nine, poor defenseless little girl! Oh, it's so tragic!" Her hands flew to either side of her face, her mouth an 'o,' eyes wide, dramatic. "Don't make me finish!"

"How did you...?" How did she know?

"I know everything. I'm all your sickest demons, Repo Man. I'm your heart's desires, too! Aren't I just like Sh-sh-Shiiilo?" she asked, and he was tormented by that dawning understanding, that she was a sexual fantasy of his pale and virginal daughter, and this woman was everything she was not... and somehow her exactly. What Nathan had never wanted her to be, had protected her against being defiled.

"No. I won't say that. You're nothing like my daughter."

"Well, no. You never touched my naughty place. Didn't you tell her it was fine, that the pain would go right away when your hand-"

"Stop! Please, no more," he pleaded. Agony. Oh, God, all he'd wanted was to be with Marni and have a dignified death. It had happened once, only once, and Shilo had to have thought it was a dream because she never brought it up, not once.

"When you kissed the girl and made her give you a wife kiss?" She pointed at his crotch with a broad grin. "That's not appropriate, Nathan, oh no, not at all!" Producing a rope from thin air, it seemed, she quickly bound him to the chair. Not again, Nathan thought, and tried to fight her off, but his crippling shame made him weak. It weighed down on him. Too much weight. It could have killed him all over again. "Daddy, daddy, I don't feel well! You hurt, you're hurting me!" she cried sharply, and bit his neck.

"So what if I did?" he shouted, recalling every detail, admitting to himself what he had done... and, worse still, that he'd enjoyed it. He'd wanted to do it again and again until she could learn to enjoy it, too. But he'd never. Marni had come back to torment him in awful retribution. Now her voice was gone, but Wick's alternately howled and whispered awful words of fire and chaos, bleeding his spirit like a leech. "She didn't remember!"

"Now, Nathan. If you don't cooperate, you'll be punished." She smacked him upside the head, a surprisingly strong blow.

"Punished?" he said weakly, and felt himself doused with something foul. Gasoline.

"Yeah. I'm afraid I'll have to light you on fire." A pause. "Oh, wait. I'm not afraid at all. You should be. I mean business, boy do I ever! There's awful things in store for child molesters!"

"I give up!" he yelled, and quietly collected himself, mustered up the embers of his dignity. "I touched my daughter. It was wrong and... I'm sorry for it."

She tapped her lips with her finger, turned her head to the side like a thoughtful dog. A bitch was what she was, he thought ruefully. "Hm. Nope, I don't believe you!" She struck a match and lit him on fire. She skipped out in time to the music of his screams.