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PROLOGUE
"There is a pattern to everything."
That is what her father used to say as he sat on the front porch with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, his beard matted and his eyes staring vacantly into the distance.
Her heart pounded against her chest as she stood in the cramped room. She could hear what was happening outside. She could hear the gunshots and the screams. She could perceive the scent of blood and she held the box even tighter against the chest. The room was cold but sweat had broken out on her forehead. Her hands were shaking and that was when she heard the footsteps start to come closer to the door.
She already knew who that was. She could tell just by his footsteps. She had seen him when he first entered. She had seen him since she was a girl and she wished there was any way to plead with him, to make him have a shred of mercy but even that was impossible now. She put the box on the table and stepped back, away from it. There was no escape, not from here.
She saw the door begin to freeze and she knew they had found the liquid nitrogen. The door was soon blasted apart and the tall man walked through, his blue eyes staring at her, vacant and almost bored. He looked past her, directly at the box then he lifted his gun. She waited to see even a flicker of recognition but there was nothing. She saw the flash and everything ceased to exist.