Family

Disclaimer: Nemeses and maybe JoMarie Bentzler own Dreamscape, not me. I don't own Orphan, either.

Author's notes :Whether this story is an alternate scenario from Orphan or a continuation from the alternate ending is for you to decide. It's a completely alternate story to Dreamscape, since Joachim won't be taking Eerzuchtig as his apprentice, or going to Dromen at all. To give the Dreamscape timeline, this happens very shortly after Joachim recovers from the New York Incident.

I do actually speak Russian, but I'm not very literate and wouldn't know how to type in Cyrillic anyway, so I'll be expressing Russian conversation in parentheses. That'll also make it easier for whoever can't read Russian.

This is an idea I liked a lot. Leena's pretty awesome, but how would she do paired with A1, the Dark Lord. As for Joachim's last name, Dreamscape explicitly mentions that his real name is Roland, and Joachim is just a pseudonym. He's never given any last name that I caught, so I gave him Flynn's last name, Nachtmerrie.

Also, I'm aware that Leena never really displays any obvious racism, but given her age and nationality, it's not an unreasonable assumption.

Please check my profile for the link to several charities to benefit Nemeses and JoMarie!

Chapter One: Together

Esther's perspective

Someone else was coming to meet us today. As usual, I declined to be a part of the main throng, baiting my own trap. Carefully, I arranged my paintings and started working on a new one that would time perfectly when the would show up, if they dropped in on me.

Sure enough… I heard footsteps nearby, as someone peeked in and saw me. They sounded odd, though. They were very quiet, so much so I'd have never heard them if I wasn't listening for them. Yet I was nearly positive it was a man.

"Hello," I ventured, half turning.

Oh, my. The tall man who walked in was rather remarkable looking, so much so that I was not completely sure he was real. Before I had a chance to notice more about him than his long, dark green hair, he spoke in a smooth, friendly baritone.

"Hello. Why weren't you with the others? Did I frighten you?" The last question struck me somewhat oddly. I took an instant to take him in. He was dressed strangely, and was very well covered, but it was clear that he had a very athletic build, suitable for an American football player or a concrete wall. His eyes were an odd color, a vivid yellow. Looking into the eyes of this peculiar man, I was not afraid, but entranced. Ever so subtly batting my eyelashes, I gave the usual answer.

"I don't like being there. No one ever talks to me." His expression flickered to something I thought was surprise. I thought it was because of my answer.

"Do you speak Russian?" I nodded, betraying none of my very small worry. It grew when he smiled widely, showing immaculate teeth.

"How wonderful! Russian is my fourth language."

Goddamnit! Godfuckingcuntshitdamnit! As it happened, I did speak Russian, but it wasn't as strong as my Estonian. I didn't speak it like a native of Russia. And if he took me, he would think I was from Russia. No one else had ever spoken it before. Shit!

"(What's your name?)" Easy enough.

"Esther." He made an expression I couldn't decipher. What an interesting man. I was already starting to see myself in his arms, and yearned for him to end my dry spell.

"(That's a very nice name that isn't often heard in this part of the world.)" He opened his mouth to speak again, but the door behind us opened again, and Sister Paula entered, approaching us.

Joachim's perspective

As I was preparing to ask Esther if she had done all the paintings around her and ask her a bit about her choices of subject matter, that nun who greeted me walked in.

"Been talking to Esther?" Her tone subtly conveyed that she was thinking something different than she was saying. Most people would never have caught it. To me, it was screamingly clear. I briefly considered telling her off, but decided against it. Esther seemed more engaging than the children downstairs, dull-eyed expectations weighed against the hope for a father. Of all the children I had talked to here, Esther was by far the most initially compatible with me. I felt a flare of irritation at the nun for interrupting things, there was more I wished to talk about with the girl.

Less than a quarter of a second had passed since she asked her question.

"Yes, we were just in the middle of getting along." It was clear that she was unable to decide whether I was telling her she was being a third wheel or not. I decided to make things a little clearer. I wanted only one child, and didn't like nuns anyway.

"Since you seem to have nothing to do, could you join us? No doubt you could provide valuable input. (Is that okay with you, Esther?)" I looked openly at the girl who may become my daughter, giving no cues as to whether I would actually want this or not.

Esther's perspective

Stupid Sister Paula! This was not how this was supposed to happen! It was bad enough that the man spoke Russian, but she interrupted before I could really reel him in! This wasn't going like I wanted it to.

Well, scratch that. The man seemed interested enough. I wanted if he wanted me too. He looked to be in his early twenties. He would think there were about a dozen years between us. And there were, just not the way he thought.

While they talked about something or other, I let myself wonder for a moment which of us would come onto the other first. Would it have to be me again, or would he try something on his own? I came out of it as I heard Russian that had to have been directed with me. I missed the part that came before it… shit. Can't let on about that.

"(Yes,)" I responded, and hoped it was something good. Sister Paula looked mildly surprised at the exchange.

"You speak Russian, Mr. Nachtmerrie?" He nodded.

"I speak fifteen languages, if you include American Sign Language." She looked as stunned as I felt. The man's appearance hadn't suggested a tremendous intellect, but apparently he was significantly smarter than he looked.

"That's very impressive. But about Esther, she's very creative, likes to be by herself but does well with others, and is an exemplary standard of good behavior." I hated how other adults talked about me like I wasn't next to them. I wasn't some stupid child. He surprised me by addressing me directly.

"Did you paint all these, Esther?" Finally, my chance! Having the extra baggage around might mess things up, but it was time to really bait this trap. I nodded in a way I knew would be seen as adorable.

He indicated a picture of a scarecrow, apparently alive, in a cornfield.

"You painted an animate scarecrow? Is there a story to this?"

Not one that you're going to find out. "Yes. It's about a farmer who can't grow anything, so he wishes on a shooting star for a protector for his crops. His wish comes true, and his scarecrow comes to life. In exchange for the farmer's love, he helps his crops grow and prosper." I indicated the companion pictures as I spoke, and dropped an occasional adorable smile. I watched his expression carefully as I spoke. Did I see disappointment race across those paper-white features for a second? If so, why? Maybe I imagined it. When he spoke again, his voice was warm, even affectionate.

"That's very good. You should feel very proud of yourself for doing this, and the others." Jackpot! He took the bait. Sister Paula even helped me out.

"You two seem to be connecting very well. Esther isn't usually this open. If you like, we can get the paperwork started, and I'll see you again in three weeks?" Almost without hesitation, he agreed.

Getting fucked and killing, killing and getting fucked. Just like that, Mr. Nachtmerrie was bound for at least one.

Joachim's perspective

On the way home, I stopped at the graves of Emily, Joshua, and Noah.

"I have some good news. I think you'd like it, at least. I decided to adopt a young girl named Esther. Joshua, Noah, you have a sister now. Emmy, you have a daughter. I don't know if I'll tell her about all of you immediately. Might be something best saved until she settles in. I hope I can make her happy, and do better for her than any of us had. I love you."

I left slowly, tears marking my trail. I knew I had decided well. My wife and sons had died in the New York Incident. Of course, I had died too, but it wasn't nearly enough to absolve me of my terrible failure.

Perhaps helping someone else would do it. Looking into Esther's thoughts, several had seemed very bizarre. Her thoughts had also proved surprisingly hard to read. Some people were like that, if they had particularly bizarre thinking styles, or certain mental illnesses. I hadn't had time to dive into her mind, but I was eager to learn more about the girl. As strange as her emotions had been, I was confident that she would be happy with me.

The three weeks passed slowly, but they passed. I used the time to set up Esther's part of my family's house. Now our family's house. From today on, she was a Nachtmerrie. When I went to pick her up, she surprised me by jumping into my arms and hugging me. I hugged back, pleased at her enthusiasm.

"Today I can call you Daddy!" I nuzzled her a little, part of my long-learned habits from living with Emily.

"As much as you want to." She started singing the word. I smiled widely and held her as I collected her things for her. The nuns wished us both good luck, and I thanked them for everything as I left with my daughter.

"Where do you live?" I smiled at her, since she opened herself up for this.

"The same place you do, Esther. Our family home at the south end of the city, near the border of it." She scooted closer to me over the truck's seats and leaned on me, obviously wanting to be held again. I gladly obliged. Our eyes briefly met, and we shared a smile. I was sure it felt good for both of us. I was glad for living family, someone to help fill the empty house. And this nine year old girl all the way from Russia had a father.

"What's it like?"

"(So impatient,)" I smiled at her again to show I was just ribbing a little. "(We'll be there in ten minutes, and you can find out for yourself better than I would be able to explain it.)"

Esther's perspective

I didn't understand all of the Russian Daddy spoke. It didn't contain anything that sounded like a question, so I wasn't worried. I was glad to be held. Something about finding out for myself.

"(Okay,)" I responded safely.

This would be a tricky part. Cement his love for me, and bump off whoever's an obstacle. At some point, pick my moment and go for it. How to do it? I mused. Maybe I'd spring it on him in his sleep. Or a moment of emotional weakness.

I wanted to paint. I didn't know what I'd disguise it as, but I would paint him falling for me as his one and only, fucking me til I came, and being my lover forever.

I wondered why I hadn't met my new mother yet. Usually, they both came to meet us. Maybe she was ill or somehow infirm? I suppressed a smile. That would make it much easier to get her out of the way. I thought about just asking Daddy, but decided against it. I thought I could see our house. If I could, then I made a very good choice in picking him. The place was massive, and isolated. It looked like the sort of mansion that you'd see in a horror movie set in the 1800s. I got the impression that there was more to it than I could immediately see, but didn't know why. I looked at Daddy excitedly.

"That's enormous! Is that your house?" He smiled back tenderly.

"It's our house now, Esther." He pulled up and we collected my things.

"I have two rooms set up for you. One is on the same floor as my bedroom, the first floor basement, the other is for if you want your own floor, the second. I didn't know which you'd want, and depending on how you sleep, I'm not yet sure which I'd rather have you on." I was genuinely touched at his concern for my comfort. I followed him into my new house.

Leon's perspective

I was very pleased at Esther's obvious enthusiasm with her new home. She seemed to take best to sleeping near me. I mentioned that it was often much cooler down there, but she showed no aversion to that. I gave her a tour of most of the house and estate.

I was not myself an artist who worked in the medium of paint, but my vassals and followers had lived for several generations of human lives, so there were two rooms which were set up particularly for drawing and painting. She was delighted with them. After several hours, I allowed her to explore by herself while I made dinner, after getting her promise that she'd be careful.

To my pleasant surprise, Esther shared my taste in bland human food with a minimum of ingredients. Probably came from years of Russian cuisine. I had acquired that preference even before my death in my own homeland, and millennia as a Vampire had left me with little liking for human tastes, though my physical form needed to eat human food. The orphanage probably reinforced that in her too.

I made spaghetti with sourdough bread. At the table, Esther sat to my immediate right, less than a foot away so she could hold me with her left hand while I held her with my right, our other hands free to eat. Some might have called it clingy, but the truth was, I loved it. One of my dreams had come true, and my child was securely in my embrace. At last, she asked what I'd been waiting for.

"Where's Mommy?" I wondered why she'd been speaking to me in English instead of Russian unless I started it. Maybe she'd just gotten used to English. Hers was excellent, and her accent was slight. I thought about responding in Russian, but decided against it. My English was fine too; speaking Russian was only meant to be for her convenience, but apparently she preferred the former.

I had already prepared the story I would tell her for now. "It's just you and me, Esther. Most of my family is dead. This has been our family's house for nine generations, shortly before this city even existed. When my parents died, my older brother got it. When he died, I got it. He wasn't married and didn't have any kids." I nuzzled her again, giving a deep purr which made her giggle in pleasure. "And now you, Esther Nachtmerrie, are a part of our family's history." I hadn't mentioned any of the real story, including my late wife or Esther's deceased brothers. Later, maybe. At the moment, I thought it was more important to show that I was paying attention to her. First impressions are important.

After we ate and I cleaned up, we watched television together. Esther picked The Fairly Oddparents, and I readily agreed. She wanted to sit in my lap, and I let her. She relished attention of all kinds, and I was in no mood to say no to my daughter on our first night together.

Esther's perspective

I'd forgotten how nice it was, and this was in some ways new. I'd never not had any competition before. Daddy seemed to have no aversion to physical affection, and I was playing it up as much as I could. Not that I needed to pretend, it was really nice. While he was playing with my hair, which was currently down, I turned to him and said with a straight face, "Daddy, I want a kiss." Without missing a beat, he asked, "What do I get for it?" with an equally straight face. This was fun.

"What do you want?" He betrayed his enjoyment now, mock-considering what he wanted for kissing me.

"How about a hug and a smile?" I nodded, and he kissed my forehead. Obligingly, I hugged him and smiled. He glanced at a clock and looked momentarily disappointed.

"Looks like someone missed their bedtime. Feeling sleepy?" I shook my head. I hated having a child's bedtime, but it seemed Daddy was much more reasonable than most, and gave me an extra hour.

"Yeah, neither am I. But if kids don't sleep well, it's very bad for their brain development. I've heard that a lot. And tomorrow will be a big day for both of us." I looked confused, so he went on. "We have to get you set up for school. Registration, supplies, whatever else. I already got you some clothes, but we'll fill it out more that you're actually here." Probably nothing I could wear without raising some obvious questions about my figure, but still a nice gesture.

When I looked in my dresser and closet, it became obvious that 'some clothes' to him was what most people called a very generous wardrobe. Better still, I could use most of what he got me, there were hardly any normal pants, lots of skirts and dresses. It was sort of strange… my Daddy was obviously younger than I was, but what wasn't Gothic or the sort of eccentrically stylish clothing he himself seemed to prefer betrayed the sensibilities of a much older man.

It was strange, but I'd try to figure it out later. I changed into a loose nightgown and Daddy tucked me into bed and read the first chapter of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland to me. Then he kissed my nose and bade me sweet dreams.

My dreams that night were strange. I was in my new house, but I was alone at first. I wandered around, but couldn't shake the feeling that something was different, that the house had come to life. Shadows moved when I wasn't looking, twisting into strange forms, eyes and wide mouths forming. Once they took a shape that was very vaguely human, and for some reason, it reminded me of Daddy.

I woke around 2 am, very uneasy, true fear pulsing through me for the first time in years. I would channel it productively. Whatever my dreams may have been, Daddy was still the same man he'd been all day. I went to his door. It was locked. Why? Perhaps he slept naked. I knocked on the door and called for him. There was no immediate response. After a few minutes, I heard very strange sounds. A noise like dragging, followed by a door opening. A moment of… something that sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place. The door opened.

"Esther, is something the matter?" His left hand rested on my shoulder, and his expression was genuinely concerned. It was hard to see him in this light, but he was fully dressed. Had his hair grown?

"I had a nightmare. May I sleep with you, Daddy?" Almost as soon as I said it, he nodded and stepped aside to grant me entry.

His bed was made. He hadn't been in it. It was cool, and obviously Daddy hadn't been in it for at least several hours. He made no mention of this. I burned with curiosity, but didn't dare ask. I snuggled tightly to him, and had to resist the urge to kiss him as he held me.

Thus far, I had concluded that my Daddy was hiding something I wanted very much to learn, that he seemed to love me very much, and that he would be my lover and finally let me find contentment, or I'd kill him.

Leon's perspective

I awoke before Esther, with her still securely in my embrace. I almost certainly could have gotten up without disturbing or waking her, but I was content to hold my daughter. She was beautiful, in sort of an odd way. I couldn't put my finger on the exact word, so I chalked it up to her being very mature for her age.

Two hours later, her breathing became slightly more rapid and shallow, and her eyes slowly opened onto mine. She smiled.

"Daddy, how long have you been up?" I kissed her nose.

"Not very. Did you have any more nightmares?" She shook her head and smiled, and I smiled back. Her nose wrinkled in distaste as she remembered our agenda for today.

"Do we still have to enroll me in school?" I had no love of mandatory education and didn't blame her a bit for not wanting to do it, but there were certain things I had to do to keep her, and this was one of the big ones. I could have just erased the minds of the nuns and whoever else knew, but then Ester would eventually get suspicious of how little scrutiny I seemed to be under with her. Surely she knew what the orphanage's requirements for adopted children were.

"Afraid so, sweetheart. But it's not all bad. You get more clothes out of it, and we'll play whatever you want this evening if you're a good sport about it."

Esther's perspective

"Afraid so, sweetheart. But it's not all bad. You get more clothes out of it, and we'll play whatever you want this evening if you're a good sport about it." My traitorous mind immediately slipped to the idea of him fucking me over the couch in the first floor living room. He did say whatever I want… but this would be much too early to play my hand. Daddy displayed lots of physical affection, much more than would be considered normal, but none had the barest feeling of any sexual meaning. It reminded me more of a wild animal with its young.

It was always this way when I was biding my time. This time was a little different because there weren't any wives or children to kill off, but just because I was already queen bee of this hive didn't mean he'd give me what I want, even if I was completely forthcoming. I'd have to wait for the perfect moment. Wait until his guard was down, and he would be more willing.

I'd never actually managed to make that stage of my plan work, but in my planning, it would be what cemented the deal, one way or another. Either they'd have sex with me and we'd be a happy family from the get-go, or I could blackmail them. Everyone thinks I'm a nine year old, and if I tell any child welfare agent that my daddy raped his nine year old daughter, he'd be in prison for a very long time. I doubted I could actually do something like that without being found out at some point, and would never try, but no one else had to know that.

Seven hours later

The day was long and annoying, but inescapable. I got the idea Daddy didn't like the idea of me in school either, and his lack of complaining was only to not encourage me. My wardrobe had increased from large to ridiculous. I'd gotten almost twenty new pairs of footwear, so many dresses I'd lost count, more gloves and hats than I would have occasions to ever wear, and more than ten bags full of t-shirts and skirts. Not to mention another five bags full of miscellanea.

Sister Paula had told me Daddy was a professional musician. I had presumed that he was barely in the black, but apparently he was doing extremely well for himself, since he thought I would be outgrowing these clothes in a few years. This too, was pleasing. A lover was all I asked. A rich one would be much more useful. Some of my habits needed covering up, and bribery was a good way to do exactly that, in my experience.

Tomorrow was Wednesday. I had expected to start then, but Daddy surprised me.

"You're still settling in. It's only your second day here. Consider this a mini-vacation with me. You were a very good girl, Esther, and I'll keep my end of things. What do you want to play?"

I bit my tongue hard to suppress my knee-jerk response, cursing myself for so nearly slipping when things could be so easy, if I played my cards carefully. I looked over his selection of video games first. It would be what he expected, and since I wasn't getting my first choice, wasn't a bad idea.

"Your console can play older games too, can't it?" I wasn't completely sure, and shouldn't have been anyway.

"Yes, it can. Everything you're looking at can be played." I looked over the games, but then a better idea occurred to me.

"Can you play music while I paint?" He looked pleasantly surprised.

"Of course, Esther. Would you rather do it in the music studio or painting rooms?"

"Painting rooms, please." Several minutes later, we were both set up. He played keyboard, starting with a beautiful, slightly eerie melody, while I painted the orphanage. When he was gone, I would sneak in it burning to the ground with the children inside.

His playing reminded me of last night's mysteries and my odd dreams. On its own, each was dismissible. Coupled with everything else, I thought it likely that there was somehow some connection, as improbable as it sounded. I mentally laughed at myself. 33 year old Leena posing as nine year old Esther who wanted to get fucked by her adoptive father and kill for fun and convenience thought it was strange that her dreams held significance. The comedy in it was inescapable.

Our time doing this was silent, but it was a very comfortable silence. I almost felt bad not painting more macabre subject matter. His music suggested that darker tones ran through his mind than he was explicitly revealing to me. We didn't stop until nine, when Daddy said I had to go to bed. I wasn't interested in sleep, so I decided to cozy up better.

Joachim's perspective

Esther was feeling very affectionate, apparently. She seemed dead set against me leaving, and insisted on constant contact, with lots of kissing and nuzzling. I wondered how neglected she had been at the orphanage to be so hard up for this. Not that I was complaining at all. I did slip up once, though. When I was kissing Esther's nose, I started purring and she meowed, and did a good job of it. Before I could remind myself that Esther wasn't in on the secret, I started licking her cheek, and she recoiled. The extreme reaction distracted me from the odd taste.

"I'm sorry, honey. Did I upset you?"

"No, just surprised me." There was no trace of a lie on her face. I continued reading until she was too sleepy to keep her eyes open, then went to my own bedroom, shoving aside the sliding bookcase. I was about to open the secret door when I thought better of it. Esther might want to sleep with me again. Last night, she probably noticed that I hadn't been sleeping in it. It was understandable that she didn't want to be alone. This house could creep out far tougher humans than a nine year old Russian orphan. I replaced the entrance and slept in the bed that was usually a prop or occasionally a table.

Esther's perspective

Again, my dreams were plagued by the odd. It started out pleasantly.

I was in Daddy's embrace, and knew I was dreaming or in heaven, because his kisses were coming with tongue. I kissed him back and whispered to him, "Daddy, take me." Obligingly and politely, he positioned me on top of him and stripped himself down. My own clothes had vanished in the meantime. He looked lovingly into my eyes, seeing me as the woman I am. I felt his tip touch me, and a surge of pleasure coursed through me.

Then things went from heaven to hell. Daddy melted with a blood-freezing cackle, and the room burned. An odd assortment of items lay on the floor: a machete, a marionette who had nearly a skull for a face and had one hand that was a hook and one that was a wicked-looking knife, a puzzle box with odd markings, a thick leather glove retooled into a claw-type weapon, with long, slightly hooked blades extending from the fingers, a long-bladed hunting knife, a carving knife, a chainsaw, and the strangest of them all, an enormous pistol. I tried picking it up, but my hand was much too small for it. I noted with great interest that the gun was designed for a left handed user.

Daddy's left handed. And more than large enough to easily handle that gun. Where had he gone? The glove was too big, the chainsaw was too heavy, the puppet was a puppet, and the puzzle box had no apparent danger to it, so I took the machete, the deadliest-looking thing I could use.

Getting my surroundings, I realized I was still in the house. But then again, I wasn't. There were eight doors out. Each had the symbol of one of the items on the floor. Since I had the machete, I opened that door, and the world changed. I was in a cool, remote place, and I was moving against my will. I looked down and saw the machete had changed to my left hand, and I was dressed in black pants and boots. I slowly realized I was watching this through someone else's eyes. Was this Daddy? Whoever it was seemed to be watching someone, an interracial couple and their children. They had camped out wherever this was, and with a mounting sense of glee, I sensed death was nearing them. Daddy, if it was him, was waiting for something. Still hidden in the dark, he pulled out a paper. Somehow, in so little light, I could still perfectly see the black man's face and name, Franz Cantrell, and his wife, Mika. They had three children; Friedrich, Jan, and Maria. None looked older than I did. At the bottom was the key to understanding:

$50,000 per head

So, it was a professional job? I felt my delight rise. I was going to get to see them die, even get to be in the front seat for it. Minutes later, Mika rose, saying something in what might have been German, but probably wasn't. She walked several yards away, and looked like she was getting ready to excrete. This was what he was waiting for. Once she was distracted, he got behind her, and silently ran toward her, machete raised. His technique was commendable. She really didn't hear a thing until the blade came down on her head. She didn't have any chance to raise an alert. He dragged her further away and hid again. A few minutes passed, and the others called out for her. Franz went to look for her. I felt a smile spread across this face, and a lock of long hair fell into my vision.

With these amazing eyes, I could tell it was dark green hair. This was Daddy. When the man was far enough away, I expected he'd be target 2, but Daddy truly had a flair for what he was doing. The children weren't facing him. Using that same silent run, he came up on them, and impaled one of the boys through the chest. The other boy and Maria looked at him, but there was confusion more than fear on their faces, they had not yet registered what had happened. Daddy kicked the body around his machete to pull it out of him, and swung again, sinking deep into the other boy's chest. He and the girl screamed.

Though I wanted to have children myself, I was usually indifferent to them at best and typically hated them. Watching Daddy work on the kids was even better than the woman. The boy gave a gurgled scream, and Maria shrieked. Daddy apparently anticipated that Franz would come racing back, because he fled into the shadows with a speed I would never have expected of him, circling the campground again.

Franz was indeed running back, and upon seeing his sons, started shouting concerned questions in whatever language he was speaking. The children stuttered and gibbered and were obviously giving no useful information. What was Daddy doing? The man examined his dead son, then tenderly held his living one, looking over his injuries. His back was to Daddy, and the boy couldn't see him through his father. Daddy approached at what felt like some strange kind of gallop, a sideways run with the machete raised for a powerful strike. Maria saw us coming. Her eyes widened and her skin paled, but she was too terrified to speak. Daddy cut off Franz's head with on swing and cut the boy nearly in half at the waist with the second strike. Maria ran. She was fast, but Daddy was rapidly gaining. Then she did something incredibly foolish, and tripped over something. I mentally grinned ear to ear. Daddy was immediately over her, and the blade was coming down.

I awoke, feeling invigorated, but somehow chilled. What had I been dreaming about? Something bad about some spearchucker, a blood traitor, and their little halfbreeds. I wasn't particularly fond of blacks and their sympathizers, so I shrugged off my unease. I got myself wrapped up and put on makeup, changing into one of the dresses Daddy got me, black with lots of ribbons. It was very pretty. It didn't look out of place on a nine year old whose father looked like Joachim Nachtmerrie, but I could definitely see myself wearing this after Daddy found out who I was… if he did. As always, I was optimistic about my chances.

I'd come close before, I thought. There had been times when I'd nearly gotten what I wanted. I'd just have to wait and bide my time for a chance.

Leon's perspective

Monday was on us before I knew it. Esther put on a brave enough face, but she was obviously hating this. Esther was at least well-dressed, in a navy blue dress, her favorite choker, black stockings, and black boots. I think she was wearing wristbands or bracelets under her dress. I wasn't sure why, but she still looked terrific. Her hair was in pigtails.

I doubted like hell the other kids would be okay with it, with she was already a quiet girl with an audible accent, so I wasn't holding out a lot of hope that she'd escape taunting. But I had the idea that whoever picked on my daughter would regret it within hours of me learning about it. On the ride to school, Esther sat on her own side, presumably so as not to betray her apprehension.

"Sweetheart, come closer." She obliged, and I swept her tightly to me. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around me and hid her face.

"It'll be okay." I couldn't tell her yet about what I was keeping from her. I planned to eventually, but first, I had to be very sure that she was good with secrets. I had a good feeling she was, though. Through the thoughts and emotions I had a lot of trouble understanding, it was rather clear that Esther was keeping something from me that she thought was rather large. I doubted that a nine year old really had any secrets that would stun me, so I was more than willing to let her keep her own counsel.

Esther's perspective

I was nervous about going to school, but not for whatever reasons Daddy thought of. I'd never been found out, but it was a constant concern. There was really almost no chance of it, but if it did happen, I'd probably need to commit another massacre. The trouble some women have to go just to get a family…

In school, I was treated badly by some children, but not as badly as I expected. Perhaps it was that my clothes which, while odd, conveyed that I came from a family of some financial means. Good. Killing children was satisfying, but badly drew attention I didn't want. A few boys and girls were even nice to me.

Later that afternoon, Daddy picked me up. I could have taken the bus, but he insisted on getting me himself. I was genuinely touched at his protectiveness.

"How was it? Were the other kids nice to you?" I considered lying, but decided to go for the truth.

"Some were. It was okay, Daddy. I'm fine." He kissed my cheek.

"Good." A few days ago, browsing through the house library, more massive than any public library I'd ever seen, I'd found some books on Russian language and culture, and had been using them to brush up on my comprehension and ability to pass as a Russian native. This seemed like a good time to put it to use.

"(What did you do today, Daddy?)" His face showed the faintest glimmer of surprise; I had not so far initiated anything in my supposedly native tongue.

"(I worked on the next album a bit, writing and refining my own parts on keyboard. I was also very busy thinking about a little girl who means the world to me.)" He was obviously affectionately baiting me, but I liked the attention very much, and was pleased to roll with it.

"(Who is she? Do I know her?)" He pretended to think about it.

"(Probably. She's beautiful, and smart, and I love her an awful lot.)"

"(What does she look like?)" He looked me over, suppressing a smile.

"(Oh, about your height, pale, black hair, and cute as can be.)" I giggled girlishly and kissed his nose like he kissed mine, and we both laughed.

When we got back home, we were barely through the door before the house phone rang. Daddy answered it. As he spoke, I gathered that he was speaking to Sister Paula about me. It sounded fine. I hadn't yet done anything to blow my cover in any significant way. However, Daddy eventually said something that got me a little nervous.

"Dentist, eh? Yeah, I'll get an appointment set for that somewhere…. No, it should be fine, she's been taking good care of her teeth, way better than most kids… yes, I'll be sure to do that…. No problem. Have a good day." He hung up and sighed theatrically at me.

"Well, sounds like the orphanage is pressuring me a bit to take you in to the dentist, they want to be sure I'm taking good care of you. Probably a good idea anyway, you get a free toothbrush and don't have to go to school." I couldn't possibly tell him why I really didn't want to have my teeth examined too closely, so I used the classic children's fallback position.

"I don't want to go." He raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Scared?" I shook my head.

"Loving school too much already?" I laughed at that.

"No, I just don't want to go." He thought about this for a second.

"Regrettably, both my sense as a parent and the people who are watching us are of the opinion that you have to do this, but I'll tell you what- I'll make an appointment, and if you still don't want to go when it's time, I'll tell the dentist, penguin, and school that you're sick and we can spend the day together. How's that?" I nodded vigorously and hugged him.

Time to speed things up. I would have preferred to wait longer, but Sister Paula was getting in my way very badly. Unfortunately, killing her would not exactly solve my problem.

Leon's perspective

Kids and dentists… ah, well.

Esther and I enjoyed an old fashioned game of Yahtzee while I prepared dinner. I picked it intentionally, as there was a question I wanted to ask her while I could look at her face, but also frame it semi-casually. I had only wanted one child, and was very happy with Esther. But I was concerned about her own happiness. She had so far demonstrated no particular fondness for anyone but me. I had no complaints about this as such, but was somewhat concerned about raising a healthy girl with varied interests and any kind of ability to interact with humans.

"Sweetie?" She didn't look up at me, as she was trying to figure out whether or not she could roll a full house with what she had now.

"Would you like any brothers or sisters?" Now she looked up at me. Her expression was confused, and somewhat suspicious.

"No. I thought you only wanted me, anyway. Why do you ask?"

"Because I thought you might. I do only want you, but that includes wanting you to be happy and healthy." She made a strange face at me, one more fit for a lover than a father.

"I'm happy with just you and me. It's nice to have you all to myself." We smiled at each other.

The evening passed, and Esther seemed anxious for some reason. I wasn't completely sure why, and she didn't want to tell me. Thus, I wasn't wholly surprised with what she asked me at bedtime.

"Daddy, may I sleep with you tonight?" I assented, more than happy to give up my preferred method of sleeping for my daughter's comfort and peace of mind.

Leena's perspective

It was too soon, but I needed to make my move very soon anyway, and couldn't foresee any advantage in delaying, no way to better my chances. It was time to do me or die. I snuck back into my room when Daddy was asleep, and changed into a more form-fitting dress, taking the time to do my makeup attractively, accentuating all my womanliness. Silently, I snuck back into Joachim's room.

One of the first things I noticed about Joachim was that he was not a peaceful sleeper. When he slept, he looked very intense. I was never sure of why, but hoped it would work out in my favor. I straddled and kissed him.