Report #3: Childhood

0 0 0
                                    

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION. IF YOU ARE NOT CLEARED FOR THESE DOCUMENTS, ABORT YOUR ATTEMPTS. SERIOUS PRECAUTION MAY BE APPLIED IF THIS IS NOT APPLIED. YOU HAVE HAD YOUR WARNING.

Visual Report: He seems to have grown calmer as he enters. He sits down much calmer. It seems he's getting used to being here.

Mr. Hanes: Before we start anything today, Mr. Grey. I'd like to say sorry about breaking that wooden box yesterday.

Hm. Insolence. He spoke before I could finish writing the report. Perhaps I know a way to make him less comfortable here, though.

Mr. Grey: It is fine, Marin Hanes. But please, next time wait for me to finish writing before you say anything.

I take the marble with an eye carved upon it, and place it in the middle of the table.

Mr. Hanes: Oh, uh... Again, sorry...

Mr. Grey: It's fine. Anyway, today I have a bit more questions for you. Don't worry, these ones aren't toward your trial. But please, first place this orb in your left hand.

Mr. Hanes: Very well.

He nods, doing so.

Mr. Grey: They should be rather simple questions. They are... Questions about your origins. Your childhood.

He simply nods again. Nervously.

Mr. Grey: First, I'd like to ask who your parents were.

Mr. Hanes: Parent.

Mr. Grey: I beg your pardon?

Mr. Hanes: I don't have a father.

Of course. It makes sense. Most likely, this causes early trauma that damaged his psyche. Truly a shame that spirits this strong suffer the most, but it makes all the more sense.

Mr. Grey: Very well. What is your mothers name?

He hesitates.

Mr. Hanes: Rachel Woods...

He doesn't share a last name... Strange. This applies some theories, but I can probably get the information from here, as long as I can keep him stable.

Mr. Grey: I see. Any siblings?

Mr. Hanes: A sister... but that's it.

Mr. Grey: Her name?

Mr. Hanes: ... Hannah Woods...

Mr. Grey: You seem uncomfortable.

Mr. Hanes: My family is kind of a touchy subject...

Predictable. It must be a half-sister. Different fathers. But I wonder if this is the rift that drives his soul...

Mr. Grey: I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. This is just information I need to know. Understand?

He shakes his head.

Mr. Hanes: I don't... I don't understand any of this, honestly...

That's fair. But with time you will, Marin Hanes.

Mr. Grey: That's okay, Marin. With time you will. But I am afraid I must ask more. Is that okay?

With hesitance, he answers.

Mr. Hanes: It is...

Mr. Grey: I assume you adopted your fathers last name?

He jerks unexpectedly. It was startling.

Mr. Hanes: Unfortunately...

Mr. Grey: Hm. Okay. This may be a painful question, but did he abandon you at a young age?

He nods slowly.

Mr. Hanes: I was thirteen... My parents weren't married...

A bastard child.

Mr. Grey: I assume it didn't go well. But anywa-

Mr. Hanes: He was scum! Absolute filth!

He slammed his hand on the table, causing it to shake, interrupting me. It was rather rude. But now we know his driving force. Or at least one of them.

Mr. Grey: I understand your feelings, Marin.

Mr. Hanes: Do you? Do you really? Because you kind of sound like my therapist right now.

Hm. His anger is spiking. He is losing stability. He was mentally known, though. As the therapist implies.

Mr. Grey: You're right... I don't. I had a healthy nuclear family. But I do sympathize for you.

Mr. Hanes: I don't need your sympathy, but... thanks for being honest. It's more than a lot of people have done for me...

He is stabilizing. I will know to be more careful about my questions in the future.

Mr. Grey: I have a more lighthearted question for you, Mr. Hanes. Did you have any good memories growing up?

It takes him a moment to think.

Mr. Hanes: I did. But they were mostly with friends at school.

He had friends at school. Noted.

Mr. Grey: Is there anything you all liked to do? Like a certain game you all liked to play or anything like that?

Mr. Hanes: Well... In middle school we played Mario Kart DS, but I've kind of grown out of that. We also used to play this one card game a lot. It was called... Yu-Gi-Oh, or something like that? I haven't really played that in years either but I remember really loving to play it with friends.

He seems to have an affinity with a trading card game. I wonder if it was an addiction at a point. He says he has grown out of it, but I think that's something I want to test.

Mr. Grey: Marin, do you miss those days? Those friends?

Mr. Hanes: I do... It was a lot happier time. But they all went to college and I had to learn to support myself at home...

Mr. Grey: May I ask why you didn't attend college?

Mr. Hanes: Honestly, a lot of people said I should have, but I personally thought I didn't have it in me, and I wasn't... financially viable enough, either.

He lived in poverty at at least one point. Noted.

Mr. Grey: Do you regret that?

He shrugs, seemingly unknowing.

Mr. Hanes: Maybe? Considering how my life's going now though, it seems like that might have been the better choice.

I nod in response to reassure him.

Mr. Grey: Mr. Hanes, I have some more questions on the matter but I'm afraid our time is up for today. Please place the orb in the center of... actually, no.

Mr. Hanes: Oh, okay... What is it?

Mr. Grey: I will be gone for the next two days. But next Monday, I'll be back to finish answering these questions. I'll even come here early, but until then, I want you to keep that orb in your left hand.

Mr. Hanes: Even when I sleep and shower?

Mr. Grey: Indeed. Do not let it go.

He nods, not fully understanding why.

Mr. Grey: You will know why in the future if you succeed, Mr. Hanes.

Mr. Hanes: Alright...

Mr. Grey: Alright. The guard will escort you back to your cell.

He nods, getting up. He is seemingly sad about my leaving for a couple days. Good. The isolation should bring him back under control.

Provided by:
Eyes Incorperation
Copyright of the Eternal Association

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Sep 24, 2020 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

TrappedWhere stories live. Discover now