A/N: Thank you to Derek and Nellie for the reviews that you left. To Derek, the Marill will be back eventually, but he's on hold for a little while. Now, please enjoy.

"Hey, girl!"

Molly jumped up fast, unappreciative of the loud yell and the rapid knocking on the metal door that worked so hard to keep her confined in her prison space. She yelped, flailing her arms as she accidentally slid off of the side of the small mattress, landing on the hard concrete floor with a solid thud. This caused a second, louder yelp, jumping up quickly and reaching around to hold her rear, whining at the sharp pain emanating from her tail bone.

"What do you want from me?" she cried out exasperatedly, tears already threatening to well. This was just absolutely not her morning. The sleep that she was having was so nice, and it was the first time that she had actually rested in a solid week, and then this prick - whichever one it was, because there were several that it could've been - had the gall to interrupt her and ruin her sweet, sweet sleep time? Why! Why couldn't she just get some damn sleep? Why couldn't she just go home?

Because your home is nothing but a heap of ash now.

…The hate that Molly had for her own thoughts sometimes was absolutely astounding. Before she could scold that kind of thinking, there was an annoyed grunt and another series of three knocks from the door. "It's bathroom time. I'm coming in. Get against the wall."

Molly glanced at the door with disgust - just knowing that someone was watching her through that tiny little peephole was enough to nearly drive her insane. At least it wasn't one of the men this time, though. With a grumble and a hand flip at the door, Molly turned around, placing both hands palm down on the wall, and leaned against the cold, metal fortification. There was a short series of beeps, then a click, and the door pushed open. Footsteps sounded behind her, sending shivers up and down her spine.

"Alright, spread your legs a little. You know the routine." The voice behind her was high and soft, like the voice that one's mind would conjure up if it were assigned the job of placing a voice to an image of a fairy. There was an oddity to it, like a tinkling glass, but it was pleasant to listen to - or at least it would've been under literally any other circumstances aside from being kidnapped and held against her will.

Molly whined quietly, slowly shifting her feet on the concrete floor until her legs were spread enough to satisfy her petitioner. The hands started at her hips, sliding down the outside of her legs down to her ankles. There, her socks were checked - she wasn't allowed shoes, but at least she was able to keep her nice woolen socks - before the hands slid back up the inside of her legs, tracing a path just opposite of the way they'd first come. They parted, patting her backside and then moving around to a much more personal area, causing Molly to blush and resist the urge to elbow her assaulter in the face.

"I know; I don't like having to do it either. You're just gonna have to deal."

As the voice behind her stopped, the hands began to move again, finishing the little search. "Do you really think I'd be able to get any kind of weapon in here? You people are watching me twenty-four seven," Molly said, traces of annoyance in her voice. She turned around, leaning back against the wall to stare at her captor, eyeing her up and down.

The woman was short, about five feet even Molly would wager, and thin. She was wearing a pair of camouflage cargo pants that were cinched up at the ankles to reveal a pair of black and green running shoes. Cinching her pants to her lithe frame was a matching belt, with a black tank top hanging loosely over her torso. Her arms were muscular, surprisingly muscular for a girl her size and the left one was covered in some sort of tattoo sleeve from her shoulder to her hand. Her hair was dark, like a Murkrow's feathers, and was short - short for a girl at least.

"You'd be surprised the kinds of things that you can make into a weapon," she responded lightly, placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling Molly to stand in front of her. "Now come on, I know you're about to piss yourself; you've gotta be."

Molly blushed. It was true. Her stomach had begun to hurt again the moment that she'd woken up, both from hunger and her straining bladder. When the woman began to push her - at least she was gentle, the rest were rather rough on the poor girl, - Molly did not resist. She simply followed wherever she was guided, already knowing the path but staying at the pace that she was being pushed along.

It wasn't far, just down one hallway and around the corner. As Molly stepped inside, so did the woman. She blushed again, grumbling. Even the men insisted on coming inside to watch her. It was awful. She could always feel their eyes on her while she relieved herself, and it was absolutely one of the most embarrassing feelings in the world, even if she hated those people.

"Do you have to?" she asked with a pout. "I don't like to go in front of people."

The woman paused, then frowned. "I can't leave you alone. You should know that by now. Not until we're sure that you're not a risk."

Molly continued to pout, swaying ever-so-slightly. "But, I'm not a risk!"

She shrugged. "That's not up to you to decide." After that, the woman turned around, putting her back to Molly. "Now, that's as much as you get. Now hurry this up, I've gotta get you back in your cell."

It was small, and would probably seem rather insignificant to most people, but that was only the second time since she'd been here that someone had showed her any kind of affection, and damnit the tears were back. Molly sat down quickly, lowering her pants and sighing softly as she relaxed.

After what seemed like an eternity, they were on their way back through the hall, her cell in sight. The woman pushed her in gently, then paused in the doorway, staring at her as Molly retreated to her bed, sitting down sadly. "You know," she began, "I think I'd rather you have let me die that day…"

The woman arched her brow curiously. "Is that so?"

Looking up at her with a resigned expression, Molly nodded her head. "I… yes… It's awful here."

The woman paused, and then nodded slowly. "I understand. Just give it some more time; like I said, we have to make sure you're not a risk."

Molly sighed and waved at her, gesturing for her to leave as she hung her head. "I'd like to be alone, please." There was a pause, and then the door slid shut, a quick series of beeps coming from the other side before the door locked itself again.

Sitting in the quiet, Molly let out a heavy sigh, mind wandering to thoughts of what exactly was their purpose of keeping her here. It just didn't make any sense! She was a sixteen year old girl who had no kind of professional training in anything. There were no skills that she was an expert in; there was nothing that set her apart from any other average person. So why, after these… monsters… had just finished burning down… an entire town of "average people…" did they go out of their way to keep her alive and bring her back to their little base thing?

Damnit, it just didn't make any sense!

Molly clenched her hands tightly in the pillow that she'd been idly toying with, bringing it up to her mouth to muffle the scream of frustration that came tearing its way out of her throat.

This was going to be a long, awful experience, and she had no way to stop it.

A/N: Well, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. As always, please feel free - I encourage you, actually - to leave a review with any thoughts, questions, or criticisms that you have.

I know that the chapter was lacking in the action department, just like the last one, but there's story to build right now. Don't worry, though; soon enough the action will be back.

Until next time.