Chapter 7: Past Recollections

"REEENNN!"

"WHAT?"

"Is this outfit okay?" Lost ran out to the living room where Ren was flipping through the phone book, obviously annoyed at the many pages. Lost had tried on about ten outfits so far, always putting them back. She now wore a black one with long sleeves. Ren turned his head.

"What do you wan--" He stopped and his jaw dropped as Lost struck a pose against the door frame.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Y-you look fine," Ren blushed and returned to the phone book. "You looked fine in the last ten outfits you tried on!"

"No, this one still isn't good enough!" Lost insisted, running back in Jun's room and throwing off the dress. "I have to find the best dress in the entire collection!"

"Jun's got a lot, you'll never finish," Ren snapped, then finally found the numbers listed for Restaurants. "Where do you want to go Lost?"

"Anywhere's fine!" Lost laughed.

"Hmmm…" Ren fingered the book, tracing his finger over a few ads, then finally settling on one. "This is the most expensive restaurant in the district…" he chewed the inside of his mouth and talked to himself. "But it's got a weird name…"

"Let me see!" Ren snapped his head around to see Lost snatching the phone book, now dressed in a golden colored short sleeved dress with a short skirt.

"Hey!" Ren snapped.

"You're so silly," Lost smiled. "It says Le Numinite Perdo! Midnight Lost! The perfect name!"

"Huh?" Ren snatched the book. "How can you tell…it's got weird characters."

"I don't know," Lost shrugged. "I guess I can just read it."

"And you know what it means!" Ren snapped. "Seriously, you're starting to confuse me with this weird language that you seem to know how to speak."

"Sorry," Lost bit her lip. "Do I look good in this one?"

"You look fine!" Ren snatched the phone and started to dial the number. "Will you stop changing?"

"But this one still isn't good enough!" Lost called as she ran back into Jun's room. "Only the perfect dress will do!"

"Hello?" Ren asked into the receiver. "I want to make reservations for two. That's right, tonight. Someplace secluded if you don't mind." He paused. "I'll be willing to put up 20,000 yen." He chuckled. "I thought you'd see reason. Don't forget, the best spot you have. Under the name Tao Ren. Yes, it's Chinese you twit, what do you think it is?" He threw the phone down, knowing that he could behave anyway he wanted to with 20,000 yen on the table.

Ren waited for Lost to come bursting out with yet another dress on, but, strangely enough, she didn't come. "Lost?" He asked.

"I'm almost ready!" Lost called. "I think I've found the perfect one!"

"It had better be," Ren grumbled. "Our reservations are scheduled in a half an hour."

"Okay…" Ren turned his head and almost gasped as Lost stepped into the door frame to model her dress. "I think this one is okay…"

Lost was wearing a tight white dress, decorated with a transparent material and rhinestone studs. The dress had a v-neck line and long tight sleeves that reached all the way to her wrists. She wore beige stockings and white high-heel shoes on her feet. Her hair was gathered into a bun at the top of her head with a few strands hanging down to frame her face. She smiled brightly, and Ren looked at her with wide, admiring eyes. "Do…I look okay?"

"You…" Ren bit his lip and gulped. "You look…beautiful."

Lost's eyes widened. "You…never said that to me before."

"Yeah, and I won't say it again!" Ren snapped, walking past her, trying to hide the blush on his face. "I'm going to get changed. Give me that shirt." Ren snatched the red shirt that Lost had made and slammed his door to get changed. "And don't even think about eavesdropping!"

"What's wrong with me?" Ren snarled as he threw on his black jacket over the red shirt. He was now dressed in pressed black slacks, a black jacket, and Lost's shirt. He pulled on his socks, and growled to himself. "My face is red…I can hardly breathe!" He stared at his knees, and his eyes drooped. "What…what the hell is wrong with me?"

Ren stood up and looked into his mirror. He stared up and down at himself. "I…look ridiculous." He knew that the red shirt and the jacket were not mean to be warned together, but it was cold, and he didn't want to freeze out there. He could just cancel the date…

But he didn't.

"It's…not a "date" date," Ren insisted to the mirror.

'Just keep telling yourself that,' the mirror responded and Ren scowled.

"I mean it!" Ren snapped. "I don't care about her at all!"

'Sure,' the him in the mirror smirked. 'Admit it…you've totally got the hots for her.'

"Shut up!" Ren screamed.

'Fine,' the mirror him shrugged. 'But you know the truth inside.'

"Are you ready to go yet Ren?" Lost called from the living room.

"Coming!" Ren called, throwing open the door. He gave one last look at the mirror, scowled, and slammed the door behind him.

"I'm so excited!" Lost smiled as the two walked down the sidewalk, heading toward the restaurant. Lost held Ren's hand, Ren letting her begrudgingly. "Are we almost there?"

"Almost," Ren sniffed. "You asked me that two minutes ago."

"What are we going to do there?"

"Eat food."

"What kind of food?"

"I don't know. Good food."

"That's good!" Lost snuggled up to Ren. "Is it okay to eat?"

"Don't worry…you won't wake up hurt."

"I trust you Ren," Lost said to Ren, and he blushed a bright red.

"W-we're here," Ren broke from Lost's arm and pointed to the restaurant. The dark sign at the top of the restaurant read its title "Le Numinite Perdo". Under the sign was a woman in a black, white, and navy blue uniform ready to welcome them in. Ren walked up to her swiftly. "I'm here for the reservations for Tao Ren."

"Oh yes, Tao-san," the woman smiled. "Come in, we have your table ready."

The glass doors swung open, and the woman led the two through the dimly lit romantic restaurant. Couples and business partners sat at tables, enjoying food and constantly being asked if they would like more champagne. Many of the people there gave Ren and Lost odd looks, wondering why a couple of kids had wandered into such a high class atmosphere. But the two ignored them as the woman led them to a secluded booth in the back, lit by a blue light. It was only large enough for two, and Lost quickly slid in to the table, Ren sitting across from her.

"Would you care for something to drink?" the woman asked.

"Any milk?" Ren asked, and the woman sighed.

"No sir, we only have cream for coffee. Would you care for some?"

"Green tea then," Ren told her. "She'll have the same."

"Does tea taste good?" Lost asked.

"Shhh!" Ren snapped. He turned back to the woman, who looked slightly confused. "That'll be all for a while."

"Yes sir," she nodded and walked down the aisles of the restaurant, leaving Lost and Ren alone.

"You can go asking questions like that around here," Ren snapped to Lost. "People are going to think something's up."

"What are we going to eat?" Lost asked, completely ignoring Ren's advice. He fumed slightly and tossed her a menu.

"Pick something."

"O-okay," Lost looked over the food on the menu. "What this?" she pointed to a dish and Ren peered over her shoulder at the menu.

"Broiled Chicken."

"And this?"

"Italian Salad."

"And this?"

"Poached salmon."

"And this?"

"LOOK, IT'S ALL FOOD, OKAY!" Ren shouted, then quickly quieted down as not to attract attention to himself and Lost. "I'll order for you! Got that?"

"Okay…" Lost smiled and rested her head against Ren's shoulder. "This place…it's warm."

Ren blushed furiously. "Uhh…do you want me to tell the manager to turn on the air conditioner?"

"Nope," Lost smiled, snuggling closer to Ren. "I like it."

Ren sighed, now slightly getting used to Lost's public displays of affection. He just sat there, flipping through the menu, looking over the same items over and over again, not able to take his mind off of Lost. A few minutes later, the waitress returned with their drinks, set them briskly down on the table, and left to go.

"Where are you going?" Ren asked rudely, and the waitress turned around, a slight blush on her cheeks. "Aren't you going to ask us what we'd like to eat?"

"Excuse moi, monsieur, I thought that you and the lady would like to be alone."

"We're not together if that's what you think!" Ren snapped, wriggling his arm until Lost came off. "She's a hopeless case, and I'm treating her out of pity."

"Mai oui, ave cantate le fu."

Ren looked over and saw Lost smiling at the waitress. The waitress blinked, then gained a light smile. "Unei carute le dat, madmosielle?"

"Oui."

"What are you babbling about?" Ren asked, snapping Lost back to look at him.

"Oh, I said that you're just embarrassed," Lost smiled and Ren facefaulted.

"I AM NOT!"

"Then she said that you probably had a short temper," Lost smiled once again and Ren looked at the waitress who was now blushing red.

"What language were you speaking?" Ren asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Sir, even if I told you, you probably would not understand," the waitress sighed. "What would you like for your meal?"

"What that language is."

"Sir…"

"You'd better tell me," Ren snarled. "Or I'll report you to the manager."

"Uncle would throw you out, you nasty pointy-haired little boy," the waitress narrowed her eyes, flipping back her hair. "Now… what-do-you-want-to-eat?"

"Your uncle's the manager?" Ren asked.

"Yes, not that it's any of your business," the woman nodded.

"If you don't provide me with some sort of information, I'll throw this tea all over you," Ren picked up his cup, showing that he was serious in this threat.

"Sir!" The waitress growled. "Let us just say that this young lady and I have a connection, don't we?"

"I've never met you before," Lost shook her head.

"Not a direct connection," the woman agreed, then smiled. "But surely you must know how we understand each other?"

"I'm sorry…" Lost bit her lower lip. "I…I don't know…what you're talking about."

The woman narrowed her eyes at Lost in a puzzled expression. "I…see… Well, this is odd. Oh well, what would you like to eat?"

But even when their food arrived, Ren didn't take a single bite. Lost, of course, ate all of her share, sneaking in a few bites from Ren's untouched plate. He sat there, his brow furrowed, angry about the lack of information given to him.

"I don't understand…" Ren snarled, gritting his teeth. "What did she mean by a connection?" He stabbed his steak with his fork violently. "What the hell did she mean?"

"REN!"

Ren jumped a foot as Lost let out a loud call of his name. He panted, then turned his head jerkily to Lost. "What?" he asked, extremely annoyed that she had interrupted his train of thought.

"I need to go to the bathroom!" she told him and he sighed, grabbing her arm.

"I'll take you." Ren got up from the table with Lost, walked down the stairs, and started to stomp through the main hallway. "Hey you!" he stopped a waiter. "Where's the bathroom? She needs to go."

"Right down the hall, sir," the man pointed and Ren nodded his head, not bothering to utter a "thank you" as he continued to pull Lost down the hall.

"It should be around here somewhere," Ren snarled. "God, I hate restaurants, they're so stuffy, and practically everyone stares at you." Ren eyed in the corner the restroom and sighed. "There."

He let go of Lost's arm and continued to walk. "Follow me, they're right over here." He kept walking, assuming that Lost was behind him. He kept walking through the rows of tables, ignoring couples staring at him, waiters backing off from him, and the fact that Lost was not behind him.

"We're here," Ren turned around. "Now go to the bathroom and…Lost?"

Lost was not behind Ren, or even in his line of vision. As he swiveled his head, he realized a horrible fact. "I lost her…"

"Crap!" he screamed, now running through the restaurant, knocking over waiters carrying food, jumping over chairs and tables, and desperately retracing his footsteps to try and find the lost Lost. "Lost! LOST! Where are you, dammit! You'd better answer now you dumb girl!"

"Sir!" a waiter stopped him in his tracks. "I must ask you to keep your voice down!"

"Keep my voice down my ass!" Ren snapped, throwing the waiter out of the way and continuing running. "LOST!"

"REN!"

Ren's face went blank with fear as he heard Lost scream his name. "LOST, I'M COMING!" He ran through the restaurant, trying to remember where he could have lost her. 'Where is she?' he thought. 'Think, Tao, think!'

Ren eyed in the corner the restroom and sighed. "There."

He let go of Lost's arm and continued to walk. "Follow me, they're right over here." He kept walking, assuming that Lost was behind him.

"That's it!" Ren realized. "I let go of her arm in the middle of the hall when I first saw the restroom! She must have gone somewhere after that!" He jumped over a railing into the hall that they had been in and noticed another smaller hallway that branched out from that one. "She must be in there!"

He sprinted inside, his shoes making a padded sound against the blue patterned carpet. The small hall was filled with paintings, and he noticed that at the end of the hall were two more. One was marked "Employees Only." "If I know Lost…" Ren bit his lip and jumped over the rope barrier, "she's definitely in here!"

"LOST!" he called once more, running through the new hall.

"REN!" she screamed again, and this time Ren could hear her voice clearer. He was definitely getting closer.

"LOST, HOLD ON, I'M COMING!" He rounded another corner and saw her: Lost, huddled against the wall, face streaked with tears, finger pointing at a painting on the wall. Her hair was matted, as if she had run her fingers through it, and her dress was torn near the left leg.

Ren ran to Lost, and kneeled down next to her, making sure she wasn't hurt. "Are you okay?"

"L-look…" her hand was shaking as she pointed toward the painting. Ren turned his head, and his eyes widened.

On the plan white canvas was a picture of a large circle with five small circles and a cross in the middle of the entire symbol.

It was the symbol tattooed on Lost's back.

"I knew it," Ren snarled, picking up Lost, who was still huddled to herself, breathing hard. "That weird language, you understanding the name of the restaurant, and now this. There is definitely something going on here." He started to walk down the hall. "Time to have a talk with "Uncle"."

Before long, Ren and Lost, heading down the hall, had reached a door that said, "Manager: Marcel Telus". Ren gave a sharp knock.

"Who is it?" a low voice barked from inside.

"An unhappy customer."

"This area is for employees only," the voice said gruffly. "Leave."

Before anyone knew what had happened, Ren had kicked down the door and was standing in front of the desk of an elderly looking man smoking a cigar. He had grayish colored hair and a mustache and beard. Ren slammed his hands down on the desk. "Look old timer, I'm looking for some answers!"

"Then try a Private Investigator," the man mumbled, lighting the cigar in his mouth. "I'm afraid that a humble business owner like myself can't help you in that subject."

"Tell me about everything!"

"Everything is a broad subject my boy," the man said, lightly puffing on the cigar. "Please be more specific."

"The language, the name," Ren barked, "the painting!"

"The one of the Duchess of Normandy? Yes, I like that one myself."

"The one with the symbol!" Ren snarled.

"Which one is that, my lad?" the man asked. "I'm old, you must humor me, I'm afraid."

"Lost," Ren turned to her. "Zip down your dress so the man can see the symbol on your back."

"All…all right," Lost nodded, turned around, and slowly started to zip down the dress. As the symbol on her back became visible, the man's eyes widened, until Ren thought they would fall out of their sockets. He was shocked. Shocked beyond reason, that was evident. His hands trembled on his desk and sweat trickled down his brow.

"Where did you get that?"

"I'm asking the questions," Ren said, zipping up Lost's dress. "Where exactly did you get that painting?"

The man didn't answer, he just looked at Lost with his eyebrows arched in what seemed to be a sort of undisguised pity.

"Sir, do you have a reservation?"

"Yes…it should be right there…"

"I see it, thank you sir. Would you like our host to escort you to your table?"

"Actually, I'm just here for a visit." Outside of the restaurant, a young man in a heavy brown trenchcoat and fedora hat stood. He was tall, and obviously well built, and out of his hat, navy blue hair poked out. The hat shielded his eyes, but not the smile on his face. "With the manager, I'm an old, old friend."

"I see…would you like us to escort you to him?"

"No, I know the way." The man smiled, waved to the greeter, then walked inside the restaurant. Looking around, he smiled once more. "Come out, come out, wherever you are…" He leaned on the wall, resting on a chair for comfort. "I can smell you…my little flower."

"My name is Marcel Telus," the man shook his head, standing up and sitting on his desk so he was eye-level with Ren and Lost. "I'm the owner of this restaurant."

"I know that," Ren snarled. "Skip to the painting and the weird language."

"The painting will come later," Marcel insisted. "But the language…what do you speak of?"

"Your niece spoke it, and Lost spoke back," Ren snapped. "She's been speaking it a lot lately, but she doesn't know what it is."

"My niece?" Marcel asked. "I see…well, this all will take quite a bit of explaining."

"Make it short…"

"It all happened about twenty years ago," Marcel explained. "I lived in a small village outside Toulon, France, then, along with my niece and many others who work at this establishment. I wasn't a businessman then. In fact," he gave a wry smile. "I was a scientist."

"A scientist?" Ren asked.

"Yes," Marcel nodded. "Mainly interested in the human body and its amazing capabilities. You'd be surprised."

"Try me."

"But that's not important to the story," Marcel told him. "I remember, many of my family and friends were also scientists in the same field. You could call it a sort of "club". At first, the study of anatomy was a perfectly normal thing, and no one in Toulon resented it."

"At first?" Ren asked. "What happened?"

"Patience, my boy, patience," Marcel put up his hand to silence Ren. "I remember, out of all of my nephews and nieces, and friend's sons and daughters, there was one person who showed great promise. He," Marcel sighed, "is the one who sent me that painting."

"Why?"

"You have no patience do you?" Marcel chuckled. "Let an old man talk before he keels over and dies. Anyway, this boy, young man I should say, was so talented, that I found that he would soon surpass me in his research. And soon enough," Marcel turned grim, "he did."

"Why is that a bad thing?" Lost asked innocently.

"At first, it was a small theory. He thought he could enhance certain pieces of human tissue to accentuate their uses." Marcel sighed. "At first, it was all just a theory. But one that showed promise."

"What happened to this theory?" Ren asked.

"Well…" Marcel shook his head and looked at his wizen, old hands. "Let's just say…he got out of control."

"Professor Telus!"

"What is it, boy? I'm busy, don't bother me." Marcel sat at a table, looking through a microscope and taking notes.

"About my theory…"

"Son, it's codswallop, absolutely impossible." Marcel shook his hand at his pupil. "You should give up on the darn thing now."

"I found a way to do it…"

Marcel dropped the microscope glass sheet he was using, and it clattered on the table. "What?"

"It would take laser reconstruction…" he said. "And it would be painful, but I found out a way to do it!"

"Don't you anything after all these years?" Marcel asked, picking up the glass and cleaning it off. "You can't strut about a discovery until you prove it true. It's not as if you have test subjects for this project. If you want, I can lend you some laboratory mice."

"I'm sorry Professor," the pupil shifted his feet. "Mice won't work. I need human subjects."

"Hah! I doubt you'll get someone to volunteer!" Marcel laughed. "If it's as painful as you say, no human should be subject to such an experiment."

The pupil stood there, staring at his notes and gripping the pages hard. "Such…a waste."

"And, for many years, he left the subject alone," Marcel sighed. "I never heard of the project again."

"So, how does this boil down to Lost's symbol?"

"Well, first, you asked about the language, didn't you?" Marcel asked. "This next story shall explain it… I'm afraid this is where everything started to turn bad. Seven years later, my pupil and I were still doing research, even though he could hardly be called my pupil anymore. He was an adult now, and we were more of colleagues then teacher and student." Marcel looked grim as he continued the story. "It was that night…that everything happened."

"Uncle! Uncle, there's someone at the door!" A young boy shook Marcel out of bed, and he opened one eye in confusion. When he gained his focus from coming out of sleep, he saw his nephew and young niece, both crying, in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Marcel asked, urgently getting up. "Who's at the door?"

"P-people!" the girl cried, tears rolling down her face. "They-they've got guns!"

"Stay in here," Marcel shut the door of his room behind him and leapt down the stairs to where a door was being pounded on. He briskly threw it open to see at least ten or twenty villagers with guns and flashlights outside. "What in the world are you people doing here? Leave at once! This is private property!"

"Not until we get an answer!" one of the townspeople remarked.

"Yes! Professor, explain this!" Someone thrust a packet of papers into Marcel's hands and he looked at the front page. His complexion turned the color of paper, and he looked up.

"Where…did you get this?"

"We found it in your laboratory!" someone barked. "Good thing that someone went down there to look for your nephew or we would have been completely blind to what was going on!"

"How long have you been experimenting on humans?" someone screamed.

"It's a sin against God!"

"It's a vice that cannot go unpunished!"

"You and your pupil come from Satan!"

"You don't understand!" Marcel tried to explain. "This is simply a theory!"

"Then explain the last page!" Someone shrieked, and Marcel flipped frantically to the back of the page and gasped.

"The research…" Ren bit his lip. "From your pupil… What did the last page say?"

"It…it…" Marcel shook his head. "It had…a date that read: "Date of Experiment"."

Ren froze, and Lost whimpered. "He…really wanted to do it."

"I can only assume so…" Marcel shook his head once more, as if not talking to Ren, but his own conscience. "The people were so against it, being so religious. They must have been shocked to see that the scientist who they respected so dearly was in league with someone who wanted to use humans as test subjects. There was one more thing on the paper…" he sighed. "And that is the symbol on your back, young lady."

"The symbol…" Ren furrowed his eyebrows.

"What did you do?" Lost asked.

"There was only one thing I could do…" Marcel sighed. "Run."

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Marcel had slammed the door shut and locked it, but it was no use, they were already firing their guns to pierce the metal of the door. Marcel backed off as the pounding continued and ran upstairs. He grabbed his niece and nephew without saying a word, leapt out the window and climbed down garden wall.

"Uncle! Uncle!" His nephew cried. "Where are we going?"

"No time!"

He ran as fast as he could towards his pupil's house, depositing the children in his car behind the house. "I'll be right back," he assured them, locking the doors, the two children still bawling.

He kept running until he saw his pupil's house in sight. He jumped onto the front porch and pounded on the door. "OPEN THE DOOR!" he screamed. "OPEN THE DOOR!"

"It's no use…" Marcel's face turned white as he turned slowly around to see the townspeople surrounding him, guns drawn, eyes menacing. "We already tried the foul fiend's home, but he and his wife are missing."

"No…he's there…" Marcel panted furiously. "He's got to be there!" He turned around to the door and screamed as loud as he could: "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JEAN PAUL, OPEN THE DOOR!"

"But he wasn't there…" Marcel shook, as if reliving the experience. "Jean Paul was nowhere to be found. I barely escaped, driving off as fast as I could, my friends and family following me in cars."

"Where did you go?" Lost asked. "No place must have been safe."

"It wasn't," Marcel sighed. "We had to split up. The only way to tell friend from foe was writing a symbol in the dirt." Marcel looked up, his eyes bright. "The symbol on Jean Paul's research.

"Eventually, we came to Japan," Marcel shrugged. "And found that the only way we could keep our ties to each other in such a large, populated country was our language. We called it "Oriental French" because it is a mix of French and Japanese."

"So that's what your niece meant by a "connection"," Ren reasoned. "Since Lost speaks that language, she assumed that Lost was part of your group."

"Yes," Marcel nodded. "But about the painting…"

"You said it was from Jean Paul?" Ren asked.

"Yes," Marcel said grimly. "I received it a few months ago. It is proof…" he shook his head. "It is proof that he finally had found a way to extract his research on a subject."

"So how does that tie to Lost?" Ren asked again, slamming his hands on the table. "She's not part of your group, and I don't know she's connected to this crazy Jean Paul guy!"

"Neither…do I…" Lost bit her lip. "The name…sounds familiar…but…"

"Young lady…" Marcel sighed. "I have an idea…and I'm going to tell you based on hypothesis. It isn't…going to.."

Before Marcel could even finish, a gigantic thundering "BOOM" filled the room, and the walls caved in as fire spread through the entire building. Marcel was hit with a falling piece of plaster and fell to his desk, his head bleeding as fire started to burn around them.

Ren shielded Lost and started to run down the hall. "No!" Lost cried. "Marcel!"

"Lost, we'll die if we stay in there!"

"No! I have to go back!"

"Stop!" Marcel's voice came from the office, and he trudged out as the flames started to burn in the hallway. "Go! Go now! Get away while you still can!"

"No! We can't leave you!" Lost insisted, reaching out to him.

"They're coming!" he told her. "After you! You shouldn't have escaped, but you did, and now they're after you! You must run! Boy!" He addressed Ren. "Keep her safe!"

"I will!"

"Promise me on your life!"

"I promise!"

"Good!" Marcel smiled. "Now go…" Before Lost could go any farther, the ceiling caved in, cutting off Marcel from them in the passageway.

"MARCEL!" Lost cried.

"LOST, RUN!" Ren pulled her away just as another piece of the ceiling fell. "We've got to get out of here!"

"B-but…"

"I swore to him I'd keep you safe!" Ren cried. "And I'm going to do just that!" He gathered her into his arms and started to run. "C'mon Lost, we're getting out of here!"

"Hyah!" A resounding thud issued through Marcel's office as the left side of the room cracked and fell into a thousand pieces. Standing in front of the hole was the man from before, still dressed in his hat and trenchcoat. He smiled at the bleeding Marcel on the floor, half covered with plaster and stone. The flames flickered around him. "Hmm…seems I'm getting rusty. That wall actually took a bit of effort."

The young man walked through the office, avoiding the flames and walking over to Marcel, who opened one eye. "Who are you…?" he asked.

"Your murderer," the young man smirked. "Good thing that bomb of mine went off. No one would have guessed that I put it on that chair."

"Are you here to end an old man's life?" Marcel asked. "That's nothing to brag about."

"Impudent old codger I see," the man smirked, gritting his teeth. "Actually, you're not my target. You're just an extra. I'm here for a certain flower."

"I knew that young lady was tied to you people…" Marcel panted, sweat trickling down his brow. "Stay away from her…please, I beg you."

"Don't ask for favors when you're about to be broiled," the man cackled evilly. "We've never met, but I know you quite well. He's told me about you."

"I see…so Jean Paul has others working for him. Either that or…" Marcel's eyes widened. "You can't be…"

"Your memory serves you well, old man," the man smirked, his white teeth showing. "But I have no time to chat. I have to go flower picking."

"Your mother…does not approve."

The man looked at Marcel, and for the first time, gritted his teeth in anger and frustration. "Die."

A cliff hanger! Will Lost and Ren escape the restaurant in time? Who is this strange young man? Lost's connection to the crazy young scientist Jean Paul? Stay tuned and find out, cause it's only getting hairier from here!

Another note, if you have a theory about Lost's past, PLEASE don't put it in a review and screw it up for everyone else. Just say something like, "I think I know what's going on!" or "I'm almost positive I have Lost's past linked together." See? Dat simple. Just don't ruin it for those who are still hypothesizing.

Next Chapter: Escape