Author's Note: Watch me try to inject some backstory and depth into the Rooder history while not dismissing the game mechanics too badly. The story is set post-game, primarily Alyssa focused, but Ralph (AKA The Scissorman) will also feature strongly, along with the occasional appearance from Dennis and his sister. I can't stress enough that the spotlight will stay on the canon characters. Seeing as how there weren't many survivors from the first game, that's more difficult than you'd think, but any original characters are there to enhance the story, not take it over.

Disclaimer: Just in case anyone might be under the mistaken notion that I have anything to do with Clock Tower 3, I don't. Not making money from this either. Pinky swear.

Bonus Edit: I would love to give a big thank-you to Deepsoul who has kindly offered to go though and beta all my chapters to date. She puts my sad editing skills to shame.

Chapter 1 - Heed the Call

At nearly sixteen years of age, Alyssa's life was nothing like what she'd expected it to be. Before her ill-fated fifteenth birthday, her dreams of the future had been of being on the honor roll at her prestigious boarding school, of reuniting with her mother after three years of inexplicable absence and, if she were completely honest with herself, of setting out on a tour of England in the hopes of locating her Grandfather.

The latter two goals had, in fact, been realized in a twisted sort of way, but neither had been the joyous reunion that she'd hoped for. Now both of them were dead; her mother, Nancy, peacefully in a grave alongside the rest of the Hamilton family, and her Grandfather, Dick, lost in the bowels of the decimated Clock Tower that existed somewhere outside the normal scope of reality.

May he rest in peace, Alyssa thought sourly, because I sure don't.

As the last of the prestigious Hamilton line, Alyssa had been entrusted with all the rights and responsibilities the position entailed. Barely considered an adult in the eyes of society, some secret loophole or favor owed to the Hamiltons had allowed her to retain sole ownership of the estate and full access to the family fortune. Her eyes had been as wide as saucers when she'd heard exactly how much money had been left to her, but Alyssa had always been an intelligent girl and had taken care of all her assets with the skill of a person twice her age.

Her first order of business had been to fix up the House, particularly that nasty mess in the upstairs bathroom. The current borders had cleared out after hearing what happened to their colleague.

For the first few weeks after her mother's death, Alyssa had forced herself to stay busy by cleaning the whole house from top to bottom. Having been away for so long, it was nice to reacquaint herself with her old home, and seeing it with adult eyes had revealed more secrets than she could have ever imagined. Like the secret door that had lead to a room full of portraits, all of young girls with blonde hair and eyes that spoke of unknown horrors, or like the trapdoor in her own bedroom that led to an attic she hadn't known they'd had. There were two rooms she had avoided in those first painful weeks, but when she finally ran out of other areas to clean, she could put them off no longer.

Her mother's room was exactly like she had left it; books still stacked messily on the table and the old clock ticking loudly in the corner. It took her half an hour just to work up the courage to move anything in that room, as though doing so would dispel the last vestiges of her mother's presence, but eventually she convinced herself that Nancy would never let her things get this dusty. She gave the room a thorough cleaning, stacking papers neatly and making the bed as though her mother was only away for a little while instead of forever. She relocated the computer to her own room, but in the end she couldn't force herself to throw out any of her mother's things. That could wait for another day.

The second room she had avoided, not so much because of the painful memories of her Grandfather's death, but because she had irrationally wanted to block any talk of Entities and Rooders from her mind – at least for a little while. It took her another two days after her mother's room to dare entering her grandfather's study.

(New Paragraph) The walls were lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, and Alyssa knew they contained all the secrets of her heritage that she would need to learn if she continued as a Rooder. With hesitant hands she had traced the rows of books, marveling at the exotic titles with equal parts of awe and dread.

This was what it meant to be a Hamilton. It was her birthright, and her duty, to hunt down the Entities and put a stop to their senseless malevolence. Unfortunately, unlike all those who had come before her, Alyssa had been shielded from the Hamilton's greatest secret, and had survived so far only due to her instinctive abilities and a great deal of luck. If she was going to continue her family's ancient practice, she needed to be much better informed.

Had she stayed at boarding school, Alyssa probably would have made the honor roll, and might even have come out at the top of her class. With above average intelligence and dedication, she was a terrific student, able to grasp complex concepts and excel in almost every field. Her new duties, however, made it impossible to leave the house for great lengths of time, so instead she applied for home schooling and began a very structured regime. In the mornings she studied math, sciences and English, and in the evenings mythology, arcane practices, and weapon techniques.

As if that wasn't enough, she also had to find time to manage the accounts and take care of the estate. Eventually she'd allowed herself a small respite and hired some staff to clean the house – she could certainly afford it – but it still left her with a very busy lifestyle that didn't allow much time for rest.

Dennis had proven himself a life saver several times over. At first he had been willing to allow Alyssa her space, giving her time to grieve, but they had practically grown up together and he could figure out when she was working herself into an early grave. Much to her dismay, he still entered through her bedroom window, insisting that it was impossible for her to ignore him when he did. He began coming over once or twice a week, at random times, so she could never prepare for him, and pulled her away from her studies for what he called 'play time'.

"All work and no play makes Alyssa a boring little girl," he teased, and even though she would swat at him and complain, she always appreciated his visits. Even she got sick of work sometimes.

After his sister came back, he even started inviting her home for dinner. Surrounded by the cramped-yet-cozy atmosphere of her friend's house, and treated to an evening of the warm, familial bond that the brother and sister chose to share with her, it had taken Alyssa a great deal of effort not to burst into tears. But Rooders weren't supposed to cry, particularly not about something as silly as being treated like family, a feeling she had missed desperately over the last six months, or indeed the last three years. She was never able to express exactly how much that night had meant to her without getting choked up, but from the secret smile her hosts exchanged she thought they might have guessed. She now ate with them at least once a week.

So Alyssa's life had settled into an easy monotony, though one that kept her quite busy. Surprisingly enough, she didn't have much of an opportunity to employ her newfound Rooder knowledge. Unlike the madness on her fifteenth birthday, it seemed as though the Entities were either ignoring her completely, or had gone into hiding. Every book she'd read assured her that if an Entity was active, even in a different time period to the one she currently existed in, her powers would have let her know about it. Even so, she couldn't help but feel like maybe she was doing something wrong, but being the only Hamilton left, it wasn't as though she could ask anyone else for advice.

She tried to think of it as a blessing – no news was good news where the Entities were concerned – but now nearly a year had passed since her first experience with them and the intolerable sense of foreboding had only gotten stronger. Something big was about to happen, there was no mistaking it. Unfortunately, until it happened there wasn't a single thing she could do about it, and the waiting was starting to get to her. Her concentration waned, her archery practice almost ended in disaster, and she was forced to turn down her usual invitation from Dennis so that her bad mood wouldn't affect him too.

She stalked around the house in a huff, much to an amusement of the staff who still thought of her as a young girl, sole heir or not. Ignoring the comments she left in her wake ('Poor girl', 'She's becoming a woman, I see.') Alyssa made her way to the kitchen and, with movements that were far too practiced these days, (delete she) started making herself a cup of tea.

When she got like this, the special blend her mother had used was the only thing that could calm her frazzled nerves. The tea - she had discovered during her research – was actually an ancient recipe used by the Rooders for generations. Each of the ingredients was supposed to promote clarity and calm, and it worked wonders when she was feeling sick or upset. These days she has forced to rely on it almost daily, and she was beginning to wonder if maybe it was addictive.

Absently, she heard the door open behind her and forcibly dragged her eyes away from the still-brewing teapot. Standing respectfully at attention was a tall, painfully thin man dressed in a plain black suit. Despite the obvious signs of advancing age, he carried his wizened frame with a grace and dignity that Alyssa had always admired. In his right hand he carried a stack of letters.

"The mail has arrived, Madam," Thomas intoned. Despite her numerous attempts, she had never convinced him to call her by name.

Thomas served as the head of staff at the Hamilton estate, and his appearance had been nothing less than a godsend to Alyssa, who had only the vaguest notions about how to take care of such a huge place. When he had introduced himself, Thomas revealed that he had served the Hamilton family for a number of years until her Grandfather had disappeared. Apparently fearing the worst about her father's intentions, Nancy had gently dismissed all the staff so that if Dick ever returned they wouldn't be caught up in the fighting. Although Thomas didn't so much as mention the word 'Rooder' or 'Entity', there was a strange sympathy in his expression that suggested he was privy to the real reasons behind her mother's decision, and he told her under no uncertain terms that he was more than ready to return to the work he had practiced for more than thirty years.

With surprise, Alyssa found that she herself had a few faint memories of this unsmiling man, and since he carried a letter of recommendation by her own Mother she certainly couldn't refuse him, and he was hired on the spot. Since then he had served her as a cook, driver, confident, advisor, and basically anything else she had needed him to be. He also organized the rest of the staff, making sure they knew to stay out of the library and any of the hidden rooms that might give away her secret.

"Thank you, Thomas." She accepted the mail, making a face more suited to her age than her maturity. Knowing her luck, it was more bills, obscure charity funds asking for donations and unknown well-wishers hoping to steal a slice of her inheritance. She hated opening her mail with a passion.

Reluctantly, she allowed Thomas to usher her away from the teapot and into the dining room. He'd know her long enough to make the tea exactly how she liked it, and the look he gave her suggested that her time would be better spent on more important things. With a sigh she took a place at the large table and began going through the considerable stack of letters.

As she'd expected, a lot of it was bills and even more of it was junk. With disgust she separated them into different piles, one that she would keep and the other that would end up on the fire. Watching the vile things burn always filled her with a small measure of glee. Her mind wandered as she systematically went through every letter, but when her fingers encountered thick, textured paper instead of the usual cheap manufacturing she paused, looking down. In her hand was a broad, stiff envelope marked with a thick seal of wax that bore an unidentifiable coat of arms. She turned it over, looking for other clues, but there wasn't anything else about it that struck her as out of the ordinary.

Curiosity aroused, she pried it open, careful to keep the seal intact. Inside was a neatly folded letter of the same unusual paper as the envelope, and the top of the page bore a much more legible representation of the coat of arms on the wax. Frowning, she translated the flowing script:

Dearest Alyssa,

We have heard of your misfortune and offer our sincerest condolences. The life you were born to is often fraught with danger, and sometimes disaster is unavoidable. Please know that we understand your plight better than anyone, and if you ever need a sympathetic ear we would be more than happy to listen.

Unfortunately, this letter is not solely for the purpose of pleasantries, though we wish it were so. The time is fast approaching for our daughter's fifteenth birthday, a significant event, as I'm sure a person in your position would know. We wish to offer you the chance to participate in the celebration, and humbly request your presence as soon as you are able to come. We would be more than willing to accommodate you for the duration of your stay, and feel that your advice during the proceedings would be invaluable.

Sincerest wishes,

Your cousin,

Baroness Evelyn Bevelle

It took three readings before Alyssa felt she had taken in everything the letter had said. In that time Thomas had set a cup of tea beside her, and waited patiently to one side while she finished with the letter. Wordlessly she handed it to him, managing to keep a lid on the questions that threatened to burst out of her until he had finished. His reaction, however, took her by surprise.

"Very good, Madam. Would you like me to write an acceptance to the invitation?"

Alyssa spluttered. "Ye-…N-…I don't know! I don't even know who they are. What is this?" But she had a sneaking suspicion that she already knew. There was nothing in the letter that named it directly, but the allusion to a girl's fifteenth birthday was enough.

"The Bevelle family possesses the same significant qualities as your own, Madam."

"You mean they're Rooders as well?"

Thomas winced slightly, as though she had said something obscene, but nodded. "Indeed. If fact you are distantly related by blood, though the tie is tenuous at best."

"So that's why she called herself my cousin," Alyssa mused aloud, glancing over the letter once more. She drummed her fingers against the table in thought while Thomas respectfully gave her a moment to think. "By why are they asking me this? Why now?"

Thomas's expression was of perfectly cultivated blandness. "I imagine they are worried for the safety of their daughter. At nearly fifteen she may be reaching the height of her powers, but she is also quite vulnerable, as I'm sure you know."

Alyssa blinked in surprise. "Do you think they're worried about the Ritual of Engagement?"

"That is a possibility. The Bevelle family is quite large, but the products of that line are far inferior to those of the Hamiltons." It took Alyssa a moment to sort out what he was saying. Whenever the subject of Rooders came up, Thomas tended to be vague at best, as though he couldn't bring himself to talk about them.

"So…their Rooders aren't as powerful as ours?"

Again, Thomas nodded. "I'm sure they feel that your presence would afford their daughter extra safety until the danger has passed."

(New paragraph) He hesitated, and seemed to carefully consider his next words. "Also, it is my opinion that they may be trying to reestablish their tie to the Hamiltons. Your Grandfather believed that alliances with the other families were a sign of weakness, and relations have been almost non-existent for many years."

"I see." Alyssa's mouth was suddenly dry at the reminder of her Grandfather. Even now she didn't like hearing criticism of his actions, though she knew better than anyone that he was far from perfect. She cleared her throat, forcing such thoughts to the back of her mind.

Thomas covered admirably for her lapse. "It would be best to send a reply as soon as possible Madam. What would you like me to tell them?"

Alyssa considered her options. On one hand, she didn't want to go through a repeat of her own unfortunate fifteenth birthday, even if she wasn't the target this time. On the other, she'd have the opportunity to see how a real Rooder family worked. Unlike herself, this Bevelle girl had probably been raised knowing full well of her birthright. Not only that, but if what Thomas said was true, these people were her family, real family. Dennis and Linda treated her like a surrogate sister, but it wasn't quite the same.

Making up her mind wasn't nearly as difficult as she thought it would be. "Tell them I'll come as soon as I can."

"Of course, Madam." With a short bow he departed, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Raising her cooling tea to her lips, Alyssa allowed herself a short, blissful smile before returning to her previous chore. Suddenly, opening mail didn't seem quite so depressing.

xXxXxXxXx

It took her less time than expected to prepare the staff to care for the house in her absence. Thomas, much to her relief, had agreed to come with her as an advisor, and had given her a thoughtful list of things she should bring. Her precious bottle of holy water, for instance, was in an easily accessible pocket of her bags where she could get to it in a hurry. He also recommended a gift for the Bevelle girl, which she surely would have forgotten in her haste to organize things.

If nothing else, Boarding School had taught her about all the things a young lady should know and, more importantly, how to prepare for any social occasion. Not sure what she should expect, she packed for all possible occasions, from casual to eveningwear. She'd been quite pleased with her choices, but Thomas had approached her with some ceremony and presented her with two large boxes, insisting that she take their contents along as well.

The first had contained a white ceremonial gown that, for an unnerving moment, she thought might be the one her Grandfather had made her wear on top of the Clock Tower. This one was of a slightly different design, however, and, though it looked old, it was obviously well cared for. The dress was almost scandalously short on her tall frame – making it rather obvious that she'd had her growth spurt in the last year – but at the same time it was designed to look innocent and pure. Without being told, she knew it had been her mothers'.

The second box held a much different outfit, and she looked at it for a long time before attempting to try it on. It took her a while to figure out all the straps and adjust them to her size, but eventually she worked them out and risked a look in the mirror.

A Rooder warrior stared back at her.

The armor fit tightly, but comfortably. The dark leather hugged her form protectively, but also left her free to move as she needed. Plates of metal protected some of her vital organs, but other parts were left bare to reduce the weight of it. It wasn't just the image that was different, even though that was quite impressive. The outfit showed off the powerful muscles in her arm from weapons practice and the toned curve of her legs. The greatest change was how she felt. The armor made her feel confident, powerful, like the Rooder she was supposed to be instead of the teenager she was. It was strangely… liberating.

At once she felt slightly silly, like a little girl playing dress up, but at the same time she couldn't help but think how useful this armor would have been on her last birthday. On her left shoulder she could still see the faint scar where she hadn't quite been quick enough to dodge The Chopper's axe, and on her forearm there was a red patch where an acid burn still hadn't quite healed.

There had been other injuries from that night, of course, but apparently her Rooder blood gave her an advantage where healing was concerned. When Dennis had helped her limp to the hospital – nursing a swollen ankle of his own – the doctors had exclaimed at the sheer variety of wounds she possessed. Despite having everything from cracked ribs to sword cuts, she hadn't been able to give them a decent explanation as to how she'd acquired them. For simplicity's sake, she told everyone she didn't remember.

It was generally assumed that she had been in the car with her mother when she died, and the trauma she'd suffered explained the loss of her memories. That didn't explain the burns or some of the more unusual cuts she'd received, but most of the details were allowed to slide. No one wanted to question a poor girl who'd just lost her last living family member, and Alyssa was more than ready to let the matter drop. It wasn't as though they'd believe the truth (delete comma) anyway.

Almost all the physical wounds had healed, but the emotional ones were still vividly apparent in her eyes, reminding her of why she didn't look in the mirror much anymore. With a final glance at its reflective surface she hastily removed the armor, packing it carefully into the box and donning her usual outfit. At once she was back to 'Alyssa-the-Teenager' as opposed to 'Alyssa-the-Rooder', and she squelched the little feeling of disappointment. It felt better to be 'Alyssa-the-Rooder'.

The armor was a harsh reminder of what she was getting herself into. If the Entities were planning to attempt the Ritual of Engagement with the blood of another Rooder, there was a great likelihood that they would send their Subordinates to get her. If it came to that, she would need to be prepared to fight them.

The two boxes joined her growing pile of baggage, and she hoped that she wasn't over-packing for the occasion. All too soon it was time to load her things in the car and pay her last respects to her mother's grave. She gently placed a bouquet of roses next to the headstone, tracing her fingers lightly over the smooth surface of the marble.

"I'll be back soon, Mum," she murmured, hoping that wouldn't be a promise she'd have to break.

xXxXxXxXx

It was almost half a day's drive to the Bevelle residence, and each minute that passed only served to make Alyssa more nervous. What would they be like? How would they feel about her? Had she remembered to pack everything? For a few alarming minutes she'd thought she'd forgotten the birthday present, but a frantic search had revealed it to be tucked securely in her backpack, right where she'd left it.

After that, she'd tried to distract herself with some reading. She'd brought along a collection of books so she could continue her studies if time permitted. The one she wanted to read most was on the history of the Rooder families; she hoped it might give her some insights on her hosts. The author of the book, Francesca Hamilton, had written up all the unique customs of the individual families, and had even included a detailed family tree that could be traced back centuries. Thomas had been right; the tie between the Bevelle's and the Hamilton's wasn't much – going back several generations – but it was there, nonetheless.

She'd read this particular book before, but had only been interested in the history of her own family. Flicking quickly through the pages, she found the entry on the Bevelles and scanned over it.

The Bevelle family has a long and admirable history for subduing the Entities, though their methods differ vastly from the other houses. While many Rooder families choose to keep their family numbers small, the Bevelle have always believed that a larger clan provides a greater chance of success against the powers of Darkness. Although not as powerful as others, the Bevelle usually have three or more active Rooders at any given time, and hunt subordinates in groups rather than as individuals...

This was similar to what Thomas had told her, but the information contradicted vastly with what she had been taught about the Rooder way. As far as she knew, the Hamilton family had only ever had one active Rooder at a time, keeping the line of succession from mother to daughter clear. To think, this family would have three other girls just like her…But is also made her wonder, if they had so many, what use could she possibly be?

She turned the page, searching for anything of interest.

...Although they do not possess the raw power of the other clans, the Bevelle adjust to this disability with research and intelligence, as well as strength of numbers. They learn a greater number of magical abilities to compensate for their lack of the Rooder powers...

That sounded interesting. She tried to find an entry on the kinds of magical abilities they used, but there was only one short paragraph that didn't say anything specific.

...The most fearsome of their abilities is actually passed down through the male line in the family, and is the only reported instance of such an occurrence in any of the clans. Although a Rooder is required to power the ritual, it is only a male of the Bevelle line between the ages of ten and twenty who can cast it. The nature and purpose of this ritual is a highly guarded secret, but it is suspected that this is the source of the family's extensive knowledge of the Entities and their plans...

Alyssa flicked through the rest of the section, but there wasn't anything else pertaining to the ritual that could satisfy her curiosity. She stared moodily out the window, suddenly wishing she were back in the library so she could search for more information on the topic. A desire to solve mysteries seemed to be a requisite for potential Rooders.

"Madam, we have arrived."

Alyssa blinked out of her thoughts, looking around rapidly. She must have fallen asleep during the drive, as the scenery was radically different to how she remembered it being a second ago, and the sun had risen high in the sky. While Thomas held the door open for her, Alyssa climbed out of the car and received her first look at the Bevelle Mansion.

It was…huge, in a word. Bigger than her own, certainly, but if the book was correct than it was designed to hold a much larger family. It rose from the ground like a monument, overshadowing the landscape that surrounded it. Once she had gotten over her initial awe, however, Alyssa began to notice other things. The stones, for example, were cracked and decaying. The windows held obvious spider webs and the garden was wilting. The place may have been large, but no one was taking care of it properly.

The front door was equally oversized, but the bolts were rusted, and it squeaked noisily as a maid led them inside. She was a short, chatty woman with a no-nonsense manner that instantly put Alyssa at ease. She reminded the girl of her former warden at the Boarding School.

"My Lady has been waiting in the Sitting Room," the maid informed her cheerily. "She's been just beside herself ever since she heard you had accepted the invitation. It's not often we get guests of your caliber here. Everyone wants to meet you, m'girl."

"Oh," Alyssa said, more for the sake of getting a word in than any real contribution to the conversation. She distantly noted that Thomas had stayed behind to organize their baggage and that she was being led on a twisting route through the mansion. She didn't even bother trying to memorize the path they took; it was too complicated.

Finally they arrived, or so she assumed by the way the maid paused in a doorway and tutted over her appearance. With a motherly air she straightened Alyssa's shirt and smoothed down her hair.

"Now remember, you're an equal here. Don't bow any deeper than the Baroness does to you, and don't forget! They're always more scared of you than you are of them." Whatever that meant. Without further ado, the maid opened the door and hustled her inside.

"My Lady," the maid bowed, suddenly showing a lot more decorum than she had to Alyssa outside. "Our first guest has arrived."

With every lesson of etiquette she'd ever learned running through her head, Alyssa gave a shallow curtsy before meeting the eyes of her host. She was greeted with intelligent gray orbs that looked her over thoughtfully, before a receiving a curtsy in response.

"Welcome Alyssa." The Baroness's voice was deep and throaty, instantly denoting her as a woman of power. She moved with a sure stride and embraced Alyssa, planting a dry kiss on her cheek. Despite her actions, the girl couldn't help but feel that the Baroness's manner lacked a certain warmth. Instead of sincere, the act came across as calculating, but Alyssa didn't let any of that show on her face.

She offered the most demure smile she could manage. "Thank-you for the invitation, Baroness."

The woman nodded stiffly, as though it were an effort to break her straight-backed posture. Like the house, the Baroness looked impressive until you got up close. Her face might have been considered pretty once, but age had thoroughly left its mark. Deep crags pulled the corners of her lips into a near permanent frown and her eyes were cold. Still, she dressed in a regal manner, and moved with the same economical grace that Alyssa's mother had possessed.

"It's no trouble dear. I would love the opportunity to speak with you, but unfortunately I have some unexpected business to attend to. In the mean time, we've prepared a room for you."

The Baroness signaled to the maid, "Please take Alyssa to her room in the Children's Wing and inform Nadine of her arrival." She turned back to Alyssa, "My daughter in anxious to meet you. I'm sure the two of you will get along quite well."

Alyssa could recognize a dismissal when she heard one, and allowed herself to be steered out of the room. She kept her face emotionless until they were a safe distance from the sitting room. "Children's Wing?" she growled, outraged. She was almost sixteen for heaven's sake! And yet she had been all but dismissed as a little girl!

The maid, guessing the reason of her distress, chuckled. "You misunderstand us Mistress. The Children's Wing is where we house those of the family who still retain their powers, whether they be nine or nineteen. Being given a room there is a mark of the Lady's respect."

"I see." Feeling slightly silly, Alyssa allowed herself to be led on another confusing journey through the house. This time they encountered other people, all of whom ducked their heads in deference to Alyssa, leaving the girl slightly bewildered. These people didn't even know her, and yet they obviously held her in some esteem. Is this what it meant to be a Rooder?

The Children's Wing, she discovered, was beyond an ornate stone arch cut into an otherwise unremarkable hallway. The arch was crowned with the Bevelle family crest and inscribed with archaic runes, several of which she recognized from the books in her Library. She would have loved the opportunity to stop and inspect it, but the maid ushered her along quickly down the passageway, giving her cheery descriptions as she went.

"This is the living quarters for those of the family who have the potential. No one else is allowed here except me, not even the other family members or former Rooders. Considering what they have to deal with, we found it best to offer the poor dears a little privacy from the rest of us."

This area of the house was in a much better state of care. The walls looked freshly painted, and there was a sweet scent of pine in the air. There were paintings on the walls, all freshly polished, but no other decorations. Nothing breakable, Alyssa cynically noted before returning her attention back to her guide.

"At the moment, we have seven children here. The Baroness's two daughters and her son, Lady Yale's daughter, Count Mitcham's daughter and son, and Lady Elaina's son. They're all absolute darlings. I'm sure you'll fit right in."

Her face changed suddenly, moving to somewhere between disgust and nervousness. "Oh and there's…that thing, but it can't do you any harm, don't worry. Marcus makes sure of that."

Alyssa didn't have a chance to ask what 'that thing' was before she was lead into a large, colorful room that her mind immediately dubbed as the 'playroom'. It was any child's dream; full of soft, comfortable furniture, oversized pillows and every kind of entertainment under the sun. There was an overstuffed bookshelf leaning against one wall, a TV hooked up to the latest game console near one of the sofas, and more things than she could put a name to. In one area it looked at though there'd been a miniature war with soft toys as the ammunition.

"Come on out everyone, our guest is here!" the maid called into the seemingly empty room, and instantly there was movement. Two identical heads peered over the edge of the sofa near the television, and a moment later a set of twins had leapt over it to investigate this new person. Another pair of forms staggered out from under the soft-toy wreckage, a blonde girl with pigtails and a dark haired boy. A shadow crept out of the darkness in the corner, revealing a much older boy with brown hair falling over his eyes, and the last two came from separate rooms that lead off the main room. They all crowded around expectantly, making Alyssa feel like an animal in an exhibit. She wondered if they expected her to do a trick to impress them.

"Now, now, don't crowd her. We're trying to make her feel welcome, not scare her off." The maid shooed her charges back and reluctantly they obeyed. Obviously this lady had a lot of experience with the odd group. "Everyone, this is Alyssa Hamilton. She'll be taking Hannah's old room while she's here."

The pigtailed girl boldly took a step forward and offered a hand and a broad smile. "Hi Alyssa. I'm Tammy Yale. Nice ta' meetcha."

Alyssa couldn't help but grin back. "It's nice to meet you too Tammy."

Apparently sensing that this one wasn't dangerous, the younger children followed Tammy's example and introduced themselves in a flurry of enthusiasm. The twins were Alan and Flora respectively, and were evidently the youngest of the brood. They clung to her skirt with childish abandon and earnestly asked her if she would play with them later. The boy's name was George, and had taken her hand with surprising solemnity and kissed her fingers, winning her heart instantly. When the youngsters could finally be convinced to give her some breathing room, the elder three stepped forward more cautiously.

She could instantly see the resemblance of these three to the Baroness. They all possessed her fine cheekbones and smoky gray eyes. The eldest looked to be nearly out of her teenage years, and was nearly the spitting image of her mother, although her expression was welcoming and her smile genuine. Her brother was slightly younger, with hair a few shades darker than her chocolate brown. His eyes were unreadable, but like the Baroness Alyssa thought they were silently judging her. Finally, the youngest was a girl about Alyssa's age, and obviously the one whose birthday was fast approaching. She had freckles on her nose, and the slightest touch of conceit that some of Alyssa's school friends had possessed; the kind that came with being nearly fifteen and utterly convinced of their own importance.

"We've heard a lot about you Alyssa," the eldest said by way of a greeting. "I'm Janine."

"Don't let the little ones scare you off. We're not all bad," her brother informed her, a note of superiority in his tone that Alyssa disliked immediately. He smiled widely at her, however, and kissed her hand as George had done, but with far less innocent intentions. "You can call me Marcus."

The youngest girl eyed her cautiously and, with near palatable rudeness, seemed to dismiss Alyssa as a non-threat. "I'm Nadine. Glad you could come Alyssa." Her voice was flat enough to be insulting, and her smile bordered on smug, particularly when she caught sight of something over Alyssa's shoulder.

"Now what do we have here?" The voice was utterly unexpected. Alyssa knew she had extremely good senses, and none of them had warned of a presence behind her. More disturbingly, the voice sounded startlingly familiar, and set off an urgent alarm in her head while the rest of her thought processes tried to remember where she'd heard it. She spun around, stance instinctively lowering into a more defensive position. He was so close! How had he managed to sneak up on her? And then she recognized him.

Dark hair splashed intermittently with multicolored highlights. Skin that was almost too pale to be real. A dark scar trailing down his left cheek that gave him the appearance of a crazed jester. Eyes that twinkled with mischief and an infuriating knowingness.

The Scissorman stared back at her and smirked.

"Hello Alyssa."