Legend:

MC=Your Name

LN=Last Name

HC=Your Hair Color

EC=Your Eye Color

RC=Your Race

THE MC WILL ONLY BE MALE. NOT FEMALE.

III

"Irregular heartbeat, heart palpitations, Arrhythmia…"

Mark's hand trembled as he struggled to write. He heard the girl's screams of agony through the thick, cavernous concrete walls of his cell. His heart longed to help her, but he knew that if he did, Renier would see his family to a six-foot hole.

Mark had been reluctant to pursue his debt to Renier. He had purposely stalled the research of what he was forced to create. A trait–or man-made hormone–that would either turn the user into an unstoppable force, or a viscous monster.

Nine months ago, he was abducted while walking home from work by a cult located in an abandoned Christian camp in Russia called "Camp Markov." As such, they have been dubbed, "The Sons of Markov."

Since the abduction, Mark was told that if he did not help develop this trait, his family would meet their demise. Mark was the leading American geneticist who relocated to Japan, and Renier knew that. His goal would never be accomplished if he did not receive help from Doctor Mark Taylor. But, all personnel is expendable to Renier, even the renowned Doctor Taylor. In his mind, should Mark tragically pass away, there would always be another renowned geneticist.

Mark knew this. He also knew that he would be killed as soon as this trait is ready. This Third Eye.

As Mark was lost in thought, one detail slipped his senses. He craned his head, and listened; he could no longer hear the girl. It was at this revelation that he heard the strong metal door creak open like the final sound of human agony. It was as if the building itself was in pain.

He saw Renier step out of the darkness of the hallway, and into the little light of the cell. His jet black hair was straight, and combed over. It was shiny as he had just used oil to comb it. He had a chilling grin from ear to ear. He had black leather gloves, and a black overcoat draped over his shoulders. Underneath, he wore a black suit with a scarlet necktie. It was as if he had dipped his necktie in the blood of his patients.

He stood in the door frame for a moment, and grinned before he finally spoke.

"It is done, Mark," he sneered. "Soon, we shall see if this Attribute can be attained and suppressed by this girl."

"Elyssa…" Mark muttered in sorrow.

"Yes," Renier replied. "She is remarkable! A fantastic specimen! I hope she will pull through–I really hope to study it further."

"'It'?" Mark repeated. "She's a human being, Renier."

Renier paused for a moment, then walked toward Mark, causing Mark to stand and back away.

"You say she and every other patient is human," Renier spoke as he walked. "However, you and I both know that the women and teenagers here are horrible, horrible people. Vain, and would not even spit on the poor should they burst into flames."

Mark now had his back pressed up against the concrete wall next to his rusty metal desk.

"The little girls are either no different, or they will be no different," Renier continued, his face just inches from Mark's. "As their God-forsaken parents are the same."

"Why are you doing this, Renier?" Mark reluctantly asked, fearful for his life.

Renier did not move, save for his jaw as he spoke, "Think, Mister Taylor. 'The heart of Man is desperately wicked'. If we fought the wickedness of this world with righteousness, there will always be more wickedness. However, our little army that we have assembled with the Attribute is capable of disposing of the unworthy. They can automatically sense who is worthy and unworthy. If they sense an unworthy soul, they will eliminate it, and send it to the fiery depths of Hell. Until earth is as the Heavens.

"Earth is like a vacuum: it sucks the life out of the just using the unjust. The Attribute will allow us to reclaim this world from the clutches of the Beast."

A moment had passed before Renier backed away toward the door, and Mark crumpled onto the floor.

"I say that you better return to your affairs," Renier said. "I want your work accomplished by the end of this week, or your wife and child will die."

Mark stood in anger, but the door closed before he could say anything. He sat back down and buried his face in his hands.

"Please, God," he prayed. "I'm not used to praying, but please protect my family."

He wept into his hands as he knew this situation was out of his hands now.

III

Yua sat on the couch in her living room, waiting for her daughter to return from school. She was holding a family photograph of her, her daughter, Sayori, and her husband, Mark. She wiped her tears away with her hand, and set the photograph back down onto the coffee table.

It was then that she heard a knock at the door. She recognized the knock, so she was not caught off guard.

She opened it to her neighbor and friend, Tilly, MC's mother.

Tilly was an eccentric soul, to say the least. She always smelled of perfume, and pleasant to the sight. She moved with her husband and son from America to Japan when MC was five years of age.

The LNs were a RC family who were very successful and very wealthy. Tilly's husband, Franklin, was an engineer for a biofuel organization that relocated to Japan. Thus, the LNs were summoned to Japan despite their ignorance to Japanese language and culture.

"Hi! How are you today, Yua?" Tilly asked with an excitable voice.

"I'm well. Arigatō," Yua answered politely.

"Okay, funny," Tilly said sarcastically. "You know I'm still learning. What's that mean?"

"Really?" Yua said. "I thought you would know that one. It means 'thanks'."

"Arigatō…" Tilly repeated in a slow drawl. "Arigatō… Fun to say."

Yua just grinned and shook her head as a reply as she sat back onto the couch in the living room. Tilly joined her shortly thereafter.

"So, Frank just called me and told me about his day, and it is bizarre!" Tilly began. "When he arrived at work, his boss…"

Yua looked off into the distance and tuned Tilly out. She had grown accustomed to doing that. Tilly would, oftentimes, ramble like an old man. There were also times when she would gossip like a church woman, or a teenage girl.

Finally, Tilly had ceased.

"Did you… Did you even listen?" Tilly asked, still smiling.

Yua grinned, and nodded.

"Yes, Tilly," Yua said. "Every word."

Tilly glanced at a photo of Yua's husband, Mark.

"Still no sign of him?" Tilly asked gently.

Yua's smile faded quickly as she answered, "Not really. No."

"What do you mean by, 'not really'?" Tilly asked.

"Well, he sent a letter," Yua said. "I've never had the courage to read it."

"You have to!" Tilly exclaimed. "What if it's important?"

Yua hesitated before answering, "What if it's a lie? I read an article about a man being called into a trap by someone pretending to be his wife."

"Can't know unless you try!" Tilly said. "Open it. He's your husband! You should know his handwriting."

"I can't! I won't!" Yua yelled in defense.

There was a long pause. Then, Tilly spoke.

"Right," she said. "I should be getting back. MC's due home any minute now."

She turned to leave when Yua stopped her.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay," Tilly said as she smiled at her. "I understand. See you tomorrow!"

Tilly went to leave, but when she opened the door, she was greeted with two large men in suits with veils covering their faces and a smaller man in a black overcoat with a black suit underneath.

The smaller man immediately covered Tilly's mouth and nose with a chloroform-soaked rag, and she quickly fainted with little struggle.

They moved in the house, and Yua stood up and reached for the nearest phone. Before she could dial a single number, the smaller man shot her with a small handheld gun twice. She coughed up her own blood before he shot her a third time through her head, destroying her brain.

"Renier," one of the larger men called out. "We can't find the girl."

"Did you check the rooms on the upper floor?" Renier calmly asked.

"No, sir," the man said.

"Well, do it," Renier demanded in a calm, but chilling voice. "I will not be disappointed."

The man made haste to the upstairs bedroom. Surely, she would be there!

While the men were searching, Renier picked up a photo of Mark with his family, and it tightly in his fist.

"Nine long months of his cowardly insolence," he said. "His lies. His ignorance to the truth. It has all caught up with him now."

The men slowly returned to him like scolded children.

"We could not find her, sir," one of the men reluctantly admitted.

Renier stared at him, slowly placed the photo down onto the coffee table, and walked over to him. He placed his hands up onto the man's shoulders, and asked him to repeat what he said.

"W-We could not f-find her," he stuttered.

"Why not," Renier asked as he tilted his head and kept his grin.

"I am imperfect, sir," the man said.

Renier's men were forced to say that they were "imperfect" whenever they disappointed him. It gave Renier a sense of power–as if he were their god.

"Then, I must cleanse you," Renier said.

At that moment, he inserted a sharp, curved golden sacrificial knife with a scarlet eye symbol carved into the blade into the back of the man, cutting through his spine, severing his central nervous system. He then let go of the man and watched him crumple onto the floor, in a pool of his own blood. The blood continued to stretch until it pooled around Renier's black loafers, soaking them.

Renier chuckled, then without flenching, he grabbed his handgun and shot the other man through the neck, severing a main pulmonary artery.

Without looking twice, he left. Renier had already bribed the local officials. Therefore, the murders would not be investigated.

Renier left, leaving Yua's daughter, Sayori, alive hidden upstairs, under her bed.