"Selim, are you getting ready?"

"Yes, Mother! I'm almost done!"

"Breakfast is ready when you're done!"

"Okay, Mother! Be right there!"

I roll my eyes as I fold the paper in half. It's still drenched in blood.I can't do much about it, now. Lest my 'mother' come up and find me looking at a blood drenched paper. I have come to have an almost fondness for her, and I don't really feel like killing her. But I'm considering it, what with the monstrosity she has laid out for me to wear. It's hideous, some unholy mixture of puke green and grey mold. And that's just the jacket. The tie is orange, mixed with brown. And with the shorts, it's a monstrosity.

"It's a special occasion,"she says. "You have to wear something nice," she says. What is so special about this "pre-school?" In all my years, I've never had to go to school as part of my cover. Never. I practically created most of the events they teach, anyways. This has no purpose whatsoever. Mother said that she wanted me to "play with people my own age," and Wrath says it would look odd if the Fuhrer's son didn't go to school. Bullshit, he's just looking for an excuse to embarrass me, sadistic little shit that he is.

And would you look at that? As soon as I make my way to the breakfast table, there he is, covering a smirk behind the newspaper.

"Oh Selim, look at you! You look so dashing!" Mother gushes.

So hideous is the new handsome? Good to know. I try to hide my disgust with a childish excuse.

"Mother, it's too itchy. Can't I wear something else?"

"Selim, it's a nice suit," On what planet? "And you will only have to wear it today. You'll only be there for a few hours anywho. You'll be fine!"

"But Mother-."

"Selim, listen to your mother."

I send Wrath a glare, trying to say "shut-up" in the most effective way possible. It won't do anything as I'm stuffed inside a military issued car with mother and the butler soon after. A ten minute drive of watching humans go about their boring lives comes to a stop at a building even more horrific than my dress wear.

For starters, the door is painted like a rainbow. A freaking rainbow. Children's crude artwork hang in the windows of the bright yellow building, and streamers hang from the purple roofing. And a crappy banner reading "Welcome to Central Preschool!" hung in the archway in fluorescent pink.

This is disgusting.

"This is adorable!" My mother squeals, to which the butler replies "Indeed, Madame."

We're ushered inside the "school" by a women with bobbed black hair and a red dress with white polka dots. She says she's the teacher, I say she's a failed pin-up tart. And what she shows us is no better to look at. The walls are covered in paint and drool. The floor is littered with dismembered girls' dolls and toy cars. The book are reduced to ripped card-stock and loose papers. Children are rampaging around the room, creating even more chaos. If this is the first day, I hate to see what it's going to look like later.

"Our school is often praised for being the set bar for all military funded primary education centers, Mrs. Bradley. We would be honored to have Selim join our program."

Big words coming out of a mouth painted with drugstore lipstick. And would you look at that, it's smudged. Oh I'm sure she's honored. She's "honored" that now that the Fuhrer's kid is here, she be able to afford lipstick that won't stain whichever soldier she's "honoring". Humans.

My mother adjusts her purse before holding my hand and gestured to the woman. "Thank you so much, Miss Edith. Selim, this is your new teacher, Miss Edith."

The human extends her hand and gives me a far too preppy smile. "Its very nice to meet you, Selim! I'm sure we're going to be very good friends!"

I'm not shaking her hand. I don't shake hands. Luckily, this form has some advantages. I play the shy child, hiding behind my mother's dress, to which she clicks her tongue.

"Selim, don't be shy!" She then turns to the teacher. " I'm sorry, he's usually not this shy."

The teacher laughs. "It's alright, a lot of students are scared their first day. Why don't we let him play outside on the playset with the other children." She turns to me, and flashes a grin. "Do you like swing sets?"

Embarrassingly, I find them rather relaxing. I nod, and she leads us to the outside. Its not as bad as the inside. It's shaded by trees, and the grass isn't entirely scuffed up. The play structure looks like a death trap, yet it attracts the majority of the children. Thankfully, no one is at the swing set. If it stays that way, this could actually not be torture.

My mother turns to me, a few tears collecting in her tear ducts as she crouches down in front of me, her lip quivering. Oh no, I hate when she does this, it's never as enjoyable when other humans do it, but for some reason, it really bugs me when she does it.

"Now Selim, this is a big s-step, and I know that you're nervous, but I just want you to know that your father and I really p-proud of y-you.. and... and-"

"Aww, Mom, don't cry!" I do the "natural thing" and hug her. It's awkward to me, but I've come to feign sincerity in this act. Besides, it's kind of... nice. For a human ritual, that is.

"Oh, I know, sweetie, I know. It's just that you're growing up so fast. Mother's just being a bit sentimental. Just the blubbering of an old woman, don't you mind me."

"Mom, come on, you're not old!" Especially if you compare her to my age.

She laughed. "If only. Now stop your worrying, that's my job! Go off and make some friends, I'll have a word with your teacher, then I'll be back in a few hours."

She pulls me into a hug, which I hesitantly return. She waves me goodbye as she back in doors, and I wave until she's out of sight. I take in the chaotic surroundings in disgust. Leaving me to fend for myself in this hell hole? Perhaps Wrath and I rubbed off on her.

I stay clear of the onslaught of a screaming toddlers and make a beeline for the swing set. It's quiet, save for the chains creaking beneath my 'll do. It'll help me kill time. It's completely dull, this school has no use for my mission. No potential candidates for human sacrifice have children. There are no suspect people in the military with children. There is nothing I can get from this. I can try to roam my shadows around the perimeter. See if there's any way to get to Father from here.

I stretch my shadows a bit to the closest tree, and split them into a few parts. They run around the barriers of the enclosed wall, searching for cracks and crevices. When I find none, I stretch them towards the gate leading to the front yard. From the looks of it, there's a rusted lock that can be easily picked. A smirk forms on my shadow. 'This is going to be too easy-'

A scream rings through the air, and I snap my shadows back on a reflex. All attention is directed to the little corner by the gate I was investigating. Damn it, did someone see? The rushes over to the corner towards what I guess is the student. I try to see the child with the offending scream, but they must be hidden in the corner. An entourage of children follow, curiosity and worry in their eyes. I stay on the swing set, but stretch my shadows a bit closer to listen in on the conversation.

"Sweetie, what's the matter?"

"A-A-A shadow! T-there was a scary shadow- a-and it was smiling!" Comes a new, childish voice.

There's a pause, before the children burst out into laughter. The teacher is trying to scold them, but is only making matters worse.

"You're afraid of your own shadow~!" One child taunts.

"I-it's not mine!" The accused child protests.

"You're scared of the dark!" Another child adds.

"I am not! Daddy said there's no monsters in the dark to be afraid of!"

Another voice, a bit older than the previous, chimed in, "Was that before or after he took that night shift?"

There's a pregnant pause. Before the teacher stammers out, "Lawrence, that was a horrible thing to say, you need to apologize right this-."

"My Dad says that you're dad died at night, not even in battle like a real soldier. Did the scary shadows get him, too?"

The boy cries out as the sound of a body being pushed to the ground rings through the air. There's movement coming from the crowd as the teacher calls out to someone. Suddenly a child comes bursting out of the crowd and runs towards my direction. Whoever they are, their face is covered by their arms as they rush right past the swing set and into the bushes behind me.I turn around in my seat to see the bush rustling as the child makes their way behind the bushes.

It's no concern of mine why their crying, but this child saw my shadows. I can't kill them, not here. But I need to keep them under observation until I can. I hop off my seat and walk over to the bushes. I round the big bush to find a sniffing girl. She has to be perhaps a year younger than the other children, she's too small to be five. She has that appearance of a child whose parents tried to dress her up proper, but is far too wild for her dresses. Her pigtails are lopsided, most likely from running around. Her green dress with floral designs has mud caked all over it. Her shoes are scuffed up too. There is nothing clean about this human. When she lifts her head, it's not all that different. Dirt is smudged on her chubby face, mixed with tears and snot. The only slightly redeeming factor is her eyes. Though their red from crying, they do have a nice green color to them. Kind of like fresh grass- What am I thinking? This is a human. A very young human, too. And she's crying. Not even the socially acceptable few tears down the face, it's full on snot and everything. There is nothing remotely nice looking about this human child. In fact, she looked ridiculous.

"You look ridiculous!" the child growls.

I take a moment to process that. "Did I say that out loud?"

I ask. The girl nods before sniffing. "And it wasn't very nice! Didn't your mommy and daddy tell you to be nice to girls?"

"Of course," I scoff, rolling my eyes. " But I don't see a girl, just a baby."

"I ain't a baby!" The girl protests. "I'm three!"

'So, I'm four hundred years old?' Is my initial response, but I need to censor it a bit. "So? I'm four and a half."

"That's not much older! Your a big hippo-cricket!"

"I think you mean hypocrite"

"Same thing!" The girl insists, before standing up, placing her tiny chubby hand on her hips, scowling.

"Go away and be mean to someone else!"

"I'm not mean," I deadpan. "Just truthful."

The girl let's out an exasperated scream, before brushing past him, and straight to the tree near by, kicking it, further scuffing up her shoes. Primitive little beast.

"I wanna go home!" The girls yells abruptly. "I want my mommy! I want my daddy!"

'And I want to kill annoying little mortals. But neither of us are going to get what we want.' "Well, the teacher said we can go home in a few hours. So you'll see your mommy and daddy-."

"I can't see my daddy! He's buried under ground!"

Oh. Now that whole ordeal with the child taunting her about her father made sense. It's not unusual, humans die every day. Soldiers more often. But it doesn't make sense why humans feel the need to show emotion for something that happens so often. Still they insist on crying about it. Every. Damn. Time. Strangely, they never shut up until you offer them sympathy.

"I...I'm sorry," I mumble, trying to feign sympathy.

"For what?" She sniffs.

"For your dad."

She looks up at him, her green eyes enlarged from shock, before she buries her face in her knees again. "It's okay... it wasn't your fault," she mutters into her skirt. She sighs before looking up and giving him a tear streaked smile. "Thank you. You're nice for a meanie."

I'm going to guess that's a compliment. Well, it's a start. It'll be easier to keep an eye on her if she thinks I'm nice. I swallow all my disgust towards human, because if I'm going to make this work, I'm going to need to tolerate humans for a while. Its my punishment for getting caught, and I'll bare the cross proudly. I extend my hand, and offer a smile.

"I'm Selim."

The girl looks at my hand, wipes her nose and then grasps my firmly, giving a firm shake. I try not to recoil at the disgusting act. Somehow her bright smile somehow makes it more bearable.

"I'm Elicia."