Cayden stands outside the hidden door beneath the ground of the Crows bunker and watches as the water splashes over the hardened sand of the beach. His eyes are cast out farther than the boats that find themselves slowly drifting by this city and his mind starts to wander away from the here and the now. The 'what' if's that we all face in life, now taking over his mind causing a smile which slowly starts to form on his lips as he closes his eyes. The salty wind in his face and his hair blowing gently in the breeze. In his mind, he saw himself on the beach at the house, laying on a blanket on a cool fall afternoon, Aizzel's head in his lap as they looked out unto the sand bar where their twin sons, who were now two years old, running back and forth, examining all the treasures the beach had to offer them. Picking up shells and giggling, chasing each other and stopping to call out his name...'Daddy'...they'd say as he seen the shimmer of the sand glint in the sun as it fell between their fingers.......he held that image for what seemed like hours as he stood with his eyes shut tight. If only it were possible. If ONLY he could live in that world...If ONLY he could make that his reality.

His eyes snap open as he hears the horrific screams floating out of the tightly sealed bunker in which he stood so close. They were from a man, but one would have never known, as they all sounded the same/alike at the hands of their captors. Grown men begging for mercy, he had heard it all before and the same sounds were now coming from the poor guy, who had been caged by his sweet and loving Malice, Leader of the Crows, and what he now considered right, by all things that he has been wronged. He'd walk towards the old church and take his 29 steps to the right once he entered the building and he'd lean down and pop the old wooden floor board loose, pulling out an old tattered journal that he kept his inner most thoughts and splayed them out among the old pages. Thoughts that he would never reveal to any other. Sitting back against the wall, he opened the book and take out the pencil kept within and began writing....

Fuck you Cordillia, for ever offering me a job here. Is it my fault? No, it’s never my fault, even if I took it. But I would never have even accepted if YOU didn’t run that fucking hospital. Now my sisters, her kids, father and mother, my entire family have practically ended up in this hell hole and who do we have to thank? I can’t locate Aizzel and feel I will never find the revenge I deserve for what she did to our children and her weakness as a mother, coupled with her failure to protect our two unborn babies. Her sadistic attraction to that tongueless mute and the Black Widow, herself…both Rejects, and one left of those two who will pay the price for what they did to my twins. This loss eventually, pushing me over the edge and causing me to take refuge in the love and acceptance that Malice has offered me. How many women and men have I kidnapped for her? I lost count after so long. Continually chalking up one captor after another, Niiro, Deviant, Sofia, Cook, either acting out alone or assisting, my life now belongs to the Crows, my new family, my family without the blood bond. I still cannot find the Butcher, but I have plans for Tinkers Canary little Ms. Blue, and very, very soon. She “thinks” her abortion will come, but I have plans…that begin with a sweet little redbird named “Shadoe”. Finally met the one they call ‘Zero’ in HPD during my recent stent for taking part in the kidnapping and torture of two HPD officers, and after a few good punches thrown at each other in isolation, we found ourselves on ‘friendly’ terms. I picked up a sweet little bird of my own, who after a week in my possession, found herself seeing things my way, even if I had to beat it into her. She answers by the name ‘Ella’ and my sister Jade has her in training. Nineteen years old and will hopefully make the ‘perfect’ Italian wife, or so my sister thinks. But what do I think? No one will ever be perfect. No one will ever make a perfect Italian wife. No one can handle me, understand me, or give me what I need to feel complete.

He'd close his book and place it back in its hidden spot and replace the board before rising, this time heading back to the door to push it open and step inside just as he hears his name being called by another of his new family. It’s time to do what he does best he'd think...but as he pulled the door close behind him, he'd still hear his name being called by the place in his mid where he lives.....'Daddy' the wind would blow his name, until the door shut behind him and the darkness consumed him once again.