The light-wood polished floors were splattered with fresh blood. The white fur carpet under the dining room table and marble table in similar condition. Broken bits of glass from the chandelier were scattered across the table. The woman in the designer dress at one head of the table was lifeless, dressed up in beautiful jewels and her hair in a lovely updo, her head laid back against the chair in probably the least elegant pose it had ever been. Her eyes were fixated with an unfaltering gaze toward the ceiling as if it were so interesting she couldn't possibly rip the gaze away. The brown irises were eerily inert in their place. Accross the table of fine china, wine glass, and blood was a handsome middle-aged man in a suit just as expensive as his wife's dress, his head down against the table, his arms awkwardly pressed against it. His eyes were shut as if he were peacefully asleep.

Then there was Cecily. She too was strewn over the table as if she had needed a nap. Dressed in quite the lovely long-sleeved white lace dress, the blood was awfully visible over her chest. Her long dark hair was brought back into an elegant bun. From a faraway glance, they might have looked like a family of dolls a young toddler had awkwardly sat in the chairs. That is, if the child had a nasty affinity for violence and decided to douse the room in blood and litter the walls with bulletholes.

It was dark. The sirens of police, that were just a bit too late, wailed in the distance as they finally began to inch closer to the tragic scene. That was when one doll alerted to life. Cecily burst upward in her seat with a loud gasp. She looked around wildly, dimly aware of the feeling of what felt like a small bead dropping down the inside of her shirt. Panic filled her as her eyes darted back at forth at the scene, unable to adjust and process what was before her. She clutched the sides of her chair as something started to register and she bolted over to her mother's side, shaking her arm. "Mother... Mother... Oh God.."Her voice quickly choked up with emotion as she refused to let the reality of the situation sink in. It felt like a blur for Cecily from that moment on. Her own voice as well as the world around her muted as she tried to awake her parents. The police were at the scene shortly after. Cecily did not pay attention to what was happening, consumed by her shock. She became dimly aware of being outside rather suddenly, a coat wrapped around her and continuous comforting words from an officer that she had yet to look at and acknowledge. Cecily did not even recall receiving the coat. The one thing that startled her into reality was when she finally gazed around at her situation and found herself sitting in a the back of a van and not of a police car.

Police sirens began to rung through the air after the report of gunshots. The CEO of Office Supplies Inc. was an undercover organized crime syndicate. Sorin was merely a freelance assassin but he had been personally requested to assassinate the entire Bellemore family. The reason why was none of his concern. It had taken only a moment to go in and dispose of the targets. Getting away was not an issue since he was able to dissipate into tiny molecules to become the form of a gas. He watched as the young daughter suddenly woke from death itself to his surprise. She was obviously startled and the reaction that followed was predictable. The police that arrived into the room in bulk seemed to pick up on something being off about her survival. Sorin watched as she was led into an unknown van outside. He moved through the air with ease into the vehicle to follow her before it drove off. This could easily become a problem. He was going to have to take her or kill her again, which could prove difficult being as she survived a gunshot. Sorin then took physical form once the van was moving and everything settled down for the most part. He looked over at the young girl and said, "Hello there." He was a tall young man with pale skin and long blonde hair. The clothes he wore were all black like most assassins. His eyes were a piercing blue and they were bearing down on the girl with no emotion.