Motive

He was not pleasant to look at. Average height, with mottled skin, and a jaw that looked as though it had been torn off, the grunt looked as unpleasant as his personality.

Or so most people thought. As it turned out, the demon that had been summoned into his body seemed content to share it with the tattered remains of his humanity, and even more surprising: it was affably evil at best.

He wasn't sure what had happened, either. His days before the incident had been spent torturing prisoners, and gathering people while doing chores around Brennenburg. It was easy, if not monotonous.

His favorite haunt was the prison. Often it was quiet, punctuated by the occasional groans and moans of the tormented prisoners. He found that it was easy to think, uninterrupted by the brutes with their disturbing wails. He was also less than fond of their horrid breath, noting that even the weird guest was bothered by it. He liked thinking about the piano and the soft melodies that seemed to brighten the rooms it was in when anyone played it. He often found himself thinking about things of that nature: he liked the small, mundane things in life.

He remembered that he liked the name Ansgar, and so that is what he responded to. Alexander was kind enough to grant him that. He also knew that he didn't like Alexander's blindness when it came to choosing victims. Ansgar was intelligent and often reflected on the things he took part in. He always felt sick after killing a child. The demon that had nestled in his body didn't care one way or the other, but the vestiges of humanity wept for every innocent that he helped kill. These conflicting emotions often made him want to be left alone, even by his fellow grunts; and he enjoyed their company most of the time. Even Daniel, who he thought was something of a blundering, airheaded klutz, noticed when he was in one of his moods. (Ansgar had no feelings of warmth towards Daniel, and in fact found him to be highly annoying.)

Perhaps it was that girl that Daniel had brought in that did it. No, he was certain that it was. Upon seeing the tearful creature clinging to her mother's skirts in a prison cell, he was taken with her. She had pale skin, though it was smudged with tears and dirt, a mop of curly brown hair, and bright green eyes. Ansgar felt that the eyes of a child should be filled with laughter, and not abject terror. Then Alexander decided to do something so horrifically cruel that Ansgar spent the next week in the prison fretting over it. Even his inner demon was a bit perturbed.

It was a truth generally accepted by the grunts that children needed to be around their mothers. Alexander had noted that they always seemed less inclined to do cruel things to children, and generally abided by that unspoken rule as well. However, this time was different. Alexander separated the girl and her mother. He isolated the child for several weeks, but no one interfered, fearing Alexander's wrath.

The incident, Ansgar decided while pacing his favorite cell, was brought on by the fact that it was his turn to bring food to the nameless little girl. He approached her cell and heard her attempt at being quiet. He suppressed a small chuckle and gently placed a tray of food on the ground. He gave out a short grunt, and she inched forward. Ansgar watched her eat carefully; he had been instructed to make sure that she ate her food. When she finished, he was to take her tray back upstairs and resume his rounds. He would have given the frightened child a gentle smile, had his jaw not been in such a sorry condition. When she finished, she held onto her tray stubbornly. Ansgar opened her cell door and entered, closing it softly behind him. He let out a soft grunt, indicating that he had to take it back. He held out his non-clawed hand expectantly.

Quick as lightning, the girl kicked her tray out of his reach and latched herself onto his arm. He froze for an instant before growling. He was about to roar and throw her to the back of her cell until he heard a soft whimpering sound. He paused and reconsidered as the child wept against his arm. She reached up and held fast to one of the strips of fabric that he wore.

"Don' leave me," she cried, eyes pleading with him.

"I'm scared! It's lonely and cold!" she sobbed. Ansgar glanced around. He held up a finger to indicate that she had to be quiet otherwise she would get them both into trouble. She quieted almost immediately, and Ansgar sat down. She was content to curl up next to him and whisper about her troubles quietly. She complained about how bored she got when the fear ebbed away. She mourned over missing her mother. She fretted over how she smelled (Ansgar noted that she did not smell very pleasant in fact). And she worried and cried over whether or not she would ever escape.

Ansgar listened patiently, pity wrenching his human heart. This child hadn't done a thing wrong, save for skipping out on her chores once in a while. Her childlike innocence, though tainted by fear, had even allowed her to open her heart just a bit to him, despite his monstrous appearance. Her incarceration and fate weren't fair, and he hated that. Ansgar also hated himself for feeling so strongly about the little girl; such a thing would definitely be his undoing. He gingerly patted her head.

"D'you have a name?" she asked in a low voice. Ansgar was taken aback. He was already surprised that she had so easily accepted his deformed appearance, but for her to ask him about himself was quite the shocker. He wasn't sure if he should demonstrate his ability to speak or not, but the girl spoke before he could make a decision.

"I don't think I'm ever gonna see mother again," she said, pulling her knees close to her chest. Ansgar let out a sigh, and she caught it.

"You understand me," she whispered in the dim light of her cell. Ansgar chose not to respond, and merely patted her head once again.

"Oh…well…at least I'm not alone anymore." She took comfort in the fact that something sentient was with her. Though after eating, she felt sleepiness wash over her. It was well-deserved: she had been up for several days, unable to sleep. She told Ansgar of the voices that kept her awake, and how she hated them. But now, she began dropping off to sleep. She felt secure around Ansgar. Before he was aware of it, the small girl was sleeping peacefully against him. He picked her up carefully and placed her on the sad excuse for a bed that she had in her cell and slipped out, grabbing the tray on his way.

That night, after he had taken care of his duties, Ansgar thought and thought to himself. This small child created a strange feeling in him. He felt obligated to protect her, and he didn't even know what he was to protect her from! It was certainly not Alexander, who would slaughter him in an instant at the sign of rebellion. He doubted that a brute would emerge from the cistern. They weren't as sociable as he and most of the other grunts. They kept to themselves in the sewer and morgue, and he liked it that way. He continued thinking. What else might bring harm to that sweet child?

Not the water-dwelling…thing. (Even he wasn't sure what it was. He did know that it annoyed him greatly.)

It couldn't have been any of the bugs, for as noisy and large as they were, they were harmless.

He always made sure the food was safe to eat, so she wouldn't be poisoned.

He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew that this child probably wouldn't live to see the light of day again, but that didn't change the fact that it upset him. Perhaps he could find some way to at least get her back with her mother. Maybe they would even be able to think of a way to escape together. He certainly had no intention of telling anyone if a couple of innocent people escaped.

He silently hoped Alexander couldn't read minds.

A few days had passed. They had been happier days, with Ansgar visiting the little girl every day and spending time with her. He brought food, and on one occasion managed to sneak her some hot tea, remembering that she had complained about it being cold. She chattered happily and regained a bit of her willpower. Ansgar grew to be extremely fond of this little creature. The other grunts knew of his strange attachment, but said nothing about it, save for asking what drew him to her. He simply told them that she was angelic, and made him feel happy. (He was certain that she had managed to resurrect his sense of morality.) And after about three weeks, he felt happier than ever.

Ansgar was headed back down to the little girl's cell. Alexander had given him the okay to reunite her with her mother, and Ansgar was more than happy to guide her through the terrifying prison. He opened her door and grunted, motioning for her to walk with him.

"Where are we going?" she asked innocently. Damn if this child wouldn't be able to melt even his demonic heart with her cuteness. He grunted shortly, trying to indicate without speaking that she was going back to be with her mother. It seemed that the little girl picked up on it, as her eyes grew moist with tears of relief.

"Thank you, thank you! I don't know how…but you did this, didn't you?" she said, holding his hand as they walked. Ansgar merely grunted bashfully.

Soon, the mother and daughter were reunited. The little girl seemed eager to whisper to her mother about her story of the wonderful grunt who kept her safe and sound. Ansgar mentally patted himself on the back. He liked the warm feeling in his heart.

But such joy was not to last. Ansgar knew that the girl's mother had managed to chisel away a massive tunnel (how she did it in such a short amount of time was beyond him) but he said nothing. He hoped that they would be able to escape unnoticed. He lurked in the shadows, ignored by everyone around him, and listened quietly.

"No, mother, you come too!" wept the little girl. There she was, crying and breaking his heart again.

"We don't have time to make the hole any wider!" said her mother desperately.

"I don't want to leave you!"

"Go, hurry!"

He ignored most of what she said and merely listened intently as the girl vanished. Suddenly, the sound of boots was thundering down the hall.

Son of a…

Ansgar growled in a low voice as Daniel flung open the cell door.

"Where is she?" he barked. Ansgar restrained himself from clawing the man to death right there.

"I'll never tell!" sobbed the girl's mother. Daniel rolled his eyes and spoke urgently.

"This is no place for a young girl! She could be hurt or worse!" he snapped. The girl's mother merely cried more loudly as Daniel whirled around, slamming the cell door shut. Ansgar winced a bit as the young man let out a stream of curses.

"Find her, don't let her get away," he ordered a couple of grunts. Ansgar felt as though his stomach was trying to eat itself in despair. He had to protect her! He had to! That little girl had to escape. He would never be able to live with himself if she died at Daniel's hands. He rushed around the prison, searching high and low for her.

He had to give the little one credit. She was stealthy. But not stealthy enough, apparently. She had the misfortune of running smack into Daniel, who grabbed at her.

"No! Stay away from me!" she cried. Ansgar's heart broke even more.

"Come on! This place is dangerous!" urged Daniel. She backed further away.

"Someone help meeee!" she sobbed, whirling around and running. Daniel gave chase.

Ansgar groaned at that memory. He frequently asked himself who the monster was in that situation. He remembered Daniel grabbing the little girl and wrestling her to the ground. He then remembered hearing her scream and wail as Daniel dragged her away, most likely to her certain doom.

Why didn't he do anything to save her? He often wondered. He could have saved that girl. His own life wasn't worth that much. He should have saved her. Ansgar buried his face in his good hand. He was a monster.

This time, he blatantly refused to go when Daniel asked him to accompany him to the torture chambers. Daniel was a bit confused, but ignored it.

That night, Ansgar felt grateful that he often did not sleep. He was near enough to the torture chambers that he could hear her screams as Daniel slowly killed her. She was in agony; that much he knew. And he could have saved her. His human heart was filled with regret as her tortured voice crescendoed. He silently begged for Daniel to simply hurry and kill her so that she would never have to suffer that much again.

When the little girl's life finally left her body, Ansgar let out a wracked sob. It was the first time he had cried in years. He begged whatever god would listen to him to take the girl into heaven with open arms, and to please forgive him for his sin of inaction.

Ansgar sighed, finally, exhausted from reliving those past few months. Daniel was on the loose now, and completely bonkers after drinking the amnesia potion. Other grunts had reported torches being lit, things being tossed about, and being hit at random by everything from rocks to grapes. A few reported seeing Daniel sprinting down the hall screaming like the git he was, but none had pursued him for long. Ansgar wished that that watery…thing…would have killed him back when he was in the archives, but no such luck. Daniel was running about in the prison now, no doubt lost and out of lantern oil, as he could hear Daniel from a distance blithering about how dark it was. Coward.

Ansgar didn't find him annoying anymore. He sat in his cell, listening carefully. He heard it: a hand on the door cell, the squeak of the hinges, and then stared Daniel straight in the face. He let out a monstrous roar and gave chase in the same way that Daniel had chased that girl. All of the anger in his heart was unleashed as he lashed out to strike him. He felt it was only fair after what Daniel had done to that child. After all, an eye for an eye, and a life for a life, right? Ansgar was reflective as always, even when ruthlessly pursuing that infuriating young man.

He finally spoke one word to Daniel as he chased him throughout the cell block.

"Run."

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I am so sorry about this. Seriously. I should be shot repeatedly. Ugh.

So this was partially inspired by a dream I had in which Mr. Face and Mr. Tall both turned out to be pretty chill guys. Both were concerned about my physical and mental well-being. After rereading this, I don't blame them.

But yeah, I kind of wanted to slap Daniel after the whole little girl thing. That was just…ugh.

Don't get me wrong, I actually adore him. But he still pisses me off.

Like it? Love it? Dislike it? Think it needs to be incinerated? Tell me! Leave a review, and thanks for reading!