He dragged the chair along the ground until it was right in front of William, still blocked by the old man's body. When Father moved out of the way, a terrible feeling washed over. She was tied down, soaking wet, and with bruises covering over her body and face.

"Paris!" William screamed; his voice strained by the strap which constricted his throat as he jerked his head up.

He studied her, wondering what was to become of them in the next few minutes. Father walked behind the girl and placed his right hand atop her head, placing each of his fingers through the strands of her hair. His other hand, holding the nail, went up towards her neck.

"You know each other?" Father said, sarcastically.

"Leave her alone!" William yelled.

"She could have been useful, but not anymore." Said Father.

"Kill me. I'm the one who deserves it, not her."

"You know this is your fault, boy," said Father.

"No..." said William, under his breath.

"I recall you mentioning you have nothing to care about. Let me put it this way: If you could try to kill me, the only one in the world who's ever kept you safe, then this shouldn't matter much."

Just like that, he raised his hand and plunged the nail down into her throat. The initial impalement lacked any blood until he retracted the nail and then thrusted it back down once more. On the second stab, the blood shot out from her first wound in a red stream. William began to struggle, closing his eyes as hard as he could, wishing that God could help them both. There were several more strikes into her, judging by the sounds.

He heard her gargled breaths as her body fought for air. The stretcher rocked, though it wasn't clear if it was from her desperate grapple for life or Father's aggressive blows. William knew that would never be able to erase those long moments of pure agony and the sounds of Paris as she died. The pure evil he witnessed had encased everything in the room right down to the last particle of his soul. It echoed through the hallways, through the doors, and out into the skies. The needless death of someone he had only just met. Someone kind enough to simply talk to him. A girl who held him when he was in pain. It hurt William to his very core.

When the sounds stopped, Father said to him, "She was passed out, so it ain't that bad. Now I want you to sit there and think for a while. About what you've done to me - and the girl."

The footsteps of Father drifted off and the buzzing sounds of the lamps came back into focus after a long while. He finally opened his eyes and looked at the bloodied girl before him. He could not help but cry, feeling the warm stream of tears run down his chin and onto his chin. It was a cry he had never felt before. The tears came out from the immense hole he felt within his chest.

William felt about his sadness, the same that he felt about the cries he let out when trapped within his room for years; pointless and redundant. He looked at her for a long while and not a single coherent thought came through to him. Thoughts were as blank as they could be, occupied only with the simple visual recognition of Paris, passed away on a stretcher. He blinked. It must have been ten minutes since his last and the act of it had somehow snapped him back from the abyss he drifted into. He sniffled through his nose and let out a deep cough, attempting to clear his throat. He looked at her and began to speak.

"I'm so sorry, Paris... I should have helped you, but I just hid behind the door like an idiot. You don't deserve this - I do," William continued, closing his eyes as if praying the words, "I can't even help myself, let alone other people. I promise, if I ever get out of here, I'll get you out, too. Somehow, I will. I promise you that, okay?"

He looked around at his legs and arms, trying to squirm out of the straps. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind so he could figure out a way to get loose. Then he spoke once more to the girl, his eyes in a thin gloss of tears and his voice, soft, "Forgive me."

"Forgiveness seems important to you, Will." Said someone behind him.

"Who's there?" Asked William, trying to turn his head to the left, straining his neck.

"I'm nobody. No different than you. Just trying to get out of here."

His voice sounded young. It was almost soothing. There was no rasp, shakiness, or coarseness. Although, after what he'd just been a witness to, almost any voice sounded delightful when measured against silence.

"Are you here to kill me or help me?" William asked.

"Are you a Father?" He asked.

"No."

"Then no, I won't hurt you." He said.

"We have a chance of getting out of here with both of us." Said William.

William lifted his head forward and to the side, hoping for the stranger to free him. Then, he became startled as a blindfold covered his tired eyes.

"I don't think that's right, Will. I think we need to do this alone." Said the stranger.

"I need your help. Please." William begged.

"If you're anything like me, you've been stuck here for a long time, yeah?" Asked the stranger.

William paused for a second, curious of the question - as well as the blindfold. "Pretty much my whole life. What's with the blindfold?"

"I'd prefer if no one saw me right now. What do you remember before you got here?" The man asked. Many seconds passed with no answer from William, only the quick and shallow breaths between them. "Seriously, Will, what do you truly remember before coming here? What memories do you have of life outside of this place?"

"I- I can't remember. It's been so long that it all seems... faded. I remember having a mother and being outside on some grass. Eating food - a sandwich, I think. That's all I can remember right now." said William.

The man began to slowly unbind William's leg straps while continuing to talk.

"All I can say is - and you may think this is weird or that I'm lying - but I remember something similar." The man explained, finishing up untying one of the legs.

"What do you mean by that?" Asked William.

"I remember my mother too. I was being held by her on a bench in some open field. The sun was shining bright across a huge, blue sky and the field was this amazing green. It was like out of a movie, you know? That's all I could remember for the longest time. Then, when I got out of the room I was in, I ran across this weird-looking place not too far from here."

As he continued, William made no sound and listened the best he could. His other leg became free from the strap.

"What was it? What's in there?" Asked William.

"Well, it's this huge room with all kinds of crazy-looking equipment inside. When I walked further in, I saw this girl just lying there on a table. There was blood all around her and on the floor. When I walked up to her to get a better look, I noticed how big her stomach was."

"Why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with my childhood?" Asked William, feeling the strap around his neck become looser. Yet, he couldn't shake what he had just said.

"A girl with a big stomach?"

His mind went back to the girl that Paris lived next to. Was it her?

"I don't know what to think but I know that something doesn't seem right about it all - about why we're here." The strap around William's forehead became loose.

"Now look, when I undo your arm from this chair, I'm going to leave." Said the man.

"Please don't, I can't do this anymore. Not alone." William begged.

"The blindfold will need both of your hands to untie. I'll leave you to free your other arm. Should only need one for that." Said the man.

"Why? We can help each other!"

"I think we can do this. There's a door behind you and it's unlocked. I'd get out of here as soon as you can. Don't hang around because he'll be back, they always come back."

The stranger undid William's arm from the strap. William immediately tried to take off the blindfold, but he couldn't, just as the stranger had said. Quickly, he reached over to the other arm strap and began to undo it. Then, he heard the man who saved him talk.

"William, if you remember something else from your childhood or from any other time - something that isn't so blurry and makes you feel happy or safe - hold onto it. Never let that go. Memories that aren't so terrible have a way of pushing you forward. See you on the other side."

His arm became free, and he threw the blindfold across the room until it hit a desk and fell to the floor below. When William got up from the chair and turned around, the man was gone. Instead, there was a door beneath two lanterns. He could hardly believe what had happened and felt an immensely powerful feeling of loneliness wash over his body. Noticing the blindfold, he walked over to the nearby desk where it had fallen and picked it up.

He undid the remaining knot and walked back over to Paris. The straps keeping her in place were gently untied. He took her limp arms, resting on either side of the stretcher, and placed them gently in her lap. One of her palms atop her other hand felt the most natural to him. Footsteps were heard in the distance, coupled with a few loud coughs. They were coming from the hallway that Father had left through. William placed the undone blindfold over the girl's face, turned around, and headed towards the door in the back of the room.