Hoo boy, I haven't been that great about updates, seeing as this hasn't been updated in….6 months -_-

Well….think of this as an early Holiday gift, eh? C'mon, it's kinda-sorta-maybe long…okay not really, but I finally updated...probably because I was sick from school today and had time to write. Oh the joys of free time! :D Oh, and I also tweaked chapter 3 and 5, because the puzzle in 3 was just terrible. Check out the new puzzle if you'd like, it still has the same answer :)

Well, I won't bother you with a long A/N, so without further ado, I present you your early Holiday gift! (a.k.a chapter 6)

Wait, I lied, quick thing: This chapter is another one focusing on "the girl" and "mother", who are first seen in Chapter 4. I might write about them every other chapter, but I'm not completly sure yet. But, anywhoo, enjoy!

March 13, 1962 9:01 A.M.

The girl lay in her bed, gazing outside her window at the rain that had just begun. She was always amazed at how quickly Mother Nature changed her mind. One minute it could be sunny, and the next, overpowered the sun and stashed it away, making room for their dimness and rain. She didn't mind though… actually, the girl rather liked the rain. The soft pitter patter was quite soothing to her, and it sort of cleansed her mind and made her forget about her problems…namely the big gash that was on her forehead. Although it had been treated and bandaged, it hurt the girls head, but watching the rain helped her forget about the pain a little bit.

As the girl watched the trees being whipped around by the harsh wind that whistled against her window, she heard a knock on her door. Bolting upright and wincing a bit at the pain and dizziness it caused her head, she called, "Come in!"

"Hello, dear, are you feeling any better?"

"Oh, yes! Thank you for cleaning and bandaging my cut, mother, it feels much better!" The girl flashed her best smile and nodded.

"Wonderful," the woman replied, returning the smile and walking over to the girl's bed. Sitting down, she sighed, "Listen, dear, I'm starting to feel ill, and I know you're not in the best state either, but this is an errand that should get done as soon as possible."

Worry flashed across the girl's face, "Oh, no mother! I'm feeling fine now, whatever you need me to do, I'll do it!"

The woman smiled. The girl was always so faithful, so kind to her, always willing to help, no matter what the task. "Well, there's a man that I was going to try and meet with…a bad man, you see," The woman explained, watching the girl's eyes grow wide.

"A…a bad man, mother, you want me to meet up with a bad man?" The girl's voice was almost a whisper. The woman had always told her stories of the "bad men" she met up with and got rid of, all to make the world a better place. She had never seen pictures of these men, but she'd always them to have gangly and grotesque features, and huge hands which they'd use to capture their victims…that is, if they were kidnappers. The sheer thought of them made the girl shudder…then again, mother needed her help. With a sigh and a nod, the girl said, "Alright, I'll do it…what time shall I go out tonight?"

The woman laughed, "Tonight? Oh, no dear, you're to go out now."

"But, mother, its daytime and it—"

"Yes, I realize that," the woman waved her hand dismissively, "But it's quite dark outside, and if you're dressed in all black, it will be harder for people to see you. Besides, not a lot of people will be out and about in this weather."

The girl opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and simply nodded again, "Alright, mother, I'll get dressed."

March 13, 1962 9:15 A.M.

The girl walked on the empty streets of London, her black sweatshirt providing a thin barrier between her and the cold rain. Squinting so water wouldn't get into her eyes, the girl turned her head from side to side; looking for the address the woman had given her.

The address belonged to an old, abandoned factory, one of the last places you'd want to be caught in during a storm, as it was probably haunted or rumored to be so. The "bad man" the girl was to meet with sold abandoned lots like this, which is why mother had chose to lure him there. The thought of mother's cleverness made the girl smile, and feel more confident, in a way, knowing an intelligent woman like her was putting her faith in her "daughter". She trudged on.

March 13, 1962 9:25 A.M.

The girl had eventually come across the building, and had rushed inside for shelter. Now that she was out of the rain, and with about five minutes to spare (she just checked her watch) she began to stroll around the large factory, and as she did, she drew out a small slip of paper mother had given her. It had the information on the "bad man" that was coming and what the girl should do once he had come:

Name: Craig Dole

Age: 30

Craig is a pudgy, soft-spoken man with glasses and pale skin. Once he arrives, engage him in a conversation about the building (we must humor him with the illusion he's here on a business deal), then, when you feel the time is right, ask him about his worldly values. This will confuse him, but make sure he answers. Once he does, share with him your views, and make sure to include "equality" and/or "fairness", or both. Don't wait too long to go in for the kill, dear. I'm counting on you.

~Mother.

Short and to the point, the girl thought, repeating one of mother's favorite lines in her head while stashing the note in her pocket. When she placed her hand in it, however, she felt cold metal brush against her skin, and she let go of the note and picket up the metal object instead.

She had forgotten about the pistol mother had given her, and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad. She had never used a pistol before, and knowing that she would have to use it soon scared her a little. She wasn't going to simply use it for target practice or to show off, oh no. She was to use it, as instructed by mother, to end Craig Dole's life. The girl had always thought of killing as a foul flaw in the human race. Killing only showed how people lacked the skills to work things out in a civil manner, yet here she was, about to perform the deed herself. He's a bad man the girl told herself, probably for the thirtieth time that day, but still, a small voice in the back of her head whispered, but do you know what he's done?

No, mother had never told her what this man had done that was so horrible, but the girl assumed that it was because mother worried such information would scar her. This made her feel both protected and loved, as well as un-informed.

"Hello?" a voice suddenly echoed through the empty building, "I'm supposed to be meeting someone here."

The girl took a deep breath and walked towards the entrance, "Yes, Mr. Dole?"

"That would be me," the man laughed nervously, becoming clearer the closer the girl got to the factory entrance. He looked exactly as mother had described him, but more drenched, due to the rain that had become a downpour. "I'm here to look at a factory I might want to sell?"

"Ah, yes," The girl nodded, hands reaching towards her head to make sure the hood of her jacket was on, and when she felt that it was, she tugged it so it covered her eyes and shadowed her face. "Well, shall we get started?"

"Oh certainly, Miss…"

"Um, Beauregard. Miss Beauregard," the girl answered, immediately thinking of one of her favorite children's book characters.

Craig's face lit up, "Oh, like that character from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, my daughter loves that book!"

"Um, yes," The girl smiled, while in her head, she thought, mother never mentioned this man having a daughter. It made her feel uneasy, but nevertheless, she cleared her throat, and began. "Well, this was a coat factory a long time ago—"

"Shoe factory, I thought," Craig interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

The girl tried not to blush. This man couldn't realize that she didn't know anything about their current location. "Um, no, I believe the shoe factory was a few miles down from this one," She said convincingly. Craig cocked his head to one side, then shrugged. She nodded and continued, walking through the empty building, trying to give him a believable commentary on the building. "As you can see, um, it's been abandoned for a while," she indicated up to the roof, which had a few holes and was leaking considerably, "But that's nothing we can't fix. Also, this factory can be turned…into…um…" she wracked her brain for ideas as to what this abandoned lot could become.

"A small motel, maybe," Craig suggested, turning in a circle where he stood, looking around the factory, "Or maybe a shop!"

"Yes, heh, those would be lovely!" She agreed, happy that the man wasn't catching on to her lack of knowledge. She decided she should simply ask him some questions so she could speed up the "disposal", as she had heard mother call it before. "Now, Mr. Dole, you've been doing this a while?"

"Ten years," he replied proudly, "And in that short time, I've sold over a hundred abandoned lots."

The girl gave a low whistle, "That's brilliant! And, well, what are your worldly values, sir?"

"Pardon?" Craig asked, a confused expression occupying his face, "I, um…is that relevant, Mrs. Beauregard?"

"I'm just a bit curios, Mr. Dole; you seem like an interesting man."

"Oh, well thank you, ma'am." He said, looking down modestly, "Hm, I suppose I can't just pick one thing, so I'll just choose the lot and go with world peace."

"Ah, you value world peace, Mr. Dole?" The girl nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets, one empty, the other occupied by the note and the pistol. "That includes things like equality, am I right?"

"Yes, race equality, social equality—"

"Ah, you seem to know a bit about the subject then. But you see, Mr. Dole," The girl began, pacing around the man in a circle, "You have something that countless others have…and something countless others don't have." She smiled, congratulating herself for remembering the line mother had told her to use before she left the house.

"I…don't follow you," Craig said, his voice hinting the slightest note of unease. "Now, Mrs. Beauregard, why don't we get back—"

"Ah, but we're finished, Craig."

"You know my first name—"

"And a few other things," The girl replied, realizing she had just lied. All she actually knew was this man's name and age. She had learned from him that he had a daughter, and probably a wife. She probably sounded cool and menacing to Craig, but she was becoming uncertain of herself as she reached into her pocket and slowly pulled out the pistol.

Even in the dim light, she saw Craig's already pale skin become white. He backed away a few steps. "Wh-who are you, and what do you want?"

"I want equality for others," The girl replied simply, her hand shaking as she lifted up the pistol.

"Y-you're…going to k-kill me?" He stammered, sinking to his knees.

I have to, she thought…but did she really? She looked at Craig, who had begun to violently shake, and she could feel the fear radiating off of him. Was…was he really such a "bad man"?

"Craig…how old is she…your daughter?" The girl asked slowly, her voice softening.

"S-seven," Craig stuttered, "and she's my little sunshine. Me and her mother, y-you see…we got…a d-divorce...and I didn't get to s-see my little Ruth…th-that's my girl's name…for almost two years. I j-just got her back…I can't leave her alone."

The girl's eyes grew wide, and she went ice cold. How could she kill this man? How could he have done anything bad, when for the past few years, he had been trying to get back his daughter?

"C-Craig," she said, his stuttering becoming contagious, "Have you ever…done anything bad?"

"Crime wise?"

"Yes."

"N-never," he whispered, "My father did, he…he stole from countless people and was finally caught and arrested w-when I was twelve…I couldn't follow in his f-footsteps…" his voice trailed off, ending in a pleading note.

Had…had mother lied to her? No, she wouldn't do that, the girl thought, shaking her head…but what could she say about this? Surely mother hadn't mistaken this man for someone else? She had said he was bad…but would a bad man become so weak? No. She…she couldn't kill him. She couldn't take an innocent man away from his daughter.

She reached up with her free hand and slipped her hood down, revealing her face. Her eyes matched Craig's: Wide and confused. "You're j-just a girl—" Craig began, but she cut him off.

"Go. Don't come back here…and if you're wise, find somewhere safe to go. Please, you'll be safer if you leave London," She said, her voice between her normal volume and a whisper.

"Th-thank you…" Craig said, tears welling up in his eyes. He slowly got up, watched her slip the pistol back in her pocket, then ran. The girl couldn't leave, she felt so numb. So she sat down, put her head in her hands, and let a wave of oncoming dizziness overcome her.

May 13, 1962, 10:13 A.M.

She must have completely spaced out, or just lost track of time, but when the girl checked her watch again, she was shocked to see she had been sitting for almost half-an-hour. Getting up, she took a deep breath, remembering what had just happened. She couldn't choose one emotion to express how she felt, there were so many flowing through her. But, she couldn't pick each one out at the moment, she had to get back to mother…

Mother.

Tears sprung into her eyes. She had failed mother….no, wait, she hadn't, because mother had lied to her….Craig wasn't a "bad man" like mother said he would be…like the men mother supposedly fought…why would she try and trick the girl into thinking he was?

Shaking her head vigorously, the girl began to walk towards the entrance, but it took only seconds for her to break our into a full sprint, charging out of the entrance, the rain masking the tears on her face.

She couldn't tell mother what had just happened.

She had to let mother believe that she had completed the task, and that she hadn't caught onto her lie.

The girl soon became a blurry figure in the pouring rain. And that's exactly how she felt:

Confused….

Blurry.

A/N: Hmm…this was different than I thought it would be…I love surprising myself!

Well, I do believe that's all for now, folks! Any thought, comments and/or love letters can be left with my good friend, the review button! He's quite adorable, don't you agree? He loves being poked ^.^

Oh, yeah, and he knows where ya'll live. JSYK ;)

Until next time, my dear readers!

~Lizz