((IM NOT DEAD YET!))

The door to Evan's cell pulled open, leaving Evan to nearly fall flat on his face (he was using it for support). Regaining his balance, and staggering out of the cell, he headed towards the man who called himself 'Father'. Waking up with no memory in a cell, having weird growths on your limbs, and a massive headache was not the best way to start a day, nor did the unusual circumstances endear this 'Father' character to Evan. ... But, he had NO idea what was going on, and if was going to get any sort of information, maybe his 'father' could help him.

Staggering down the path clutching his temple with one hand, and trying to fight off this migraine he was getting, he walked over to the man and let himself down on the couch with a heavy thud, wondering what he was going to be told.

"Evan?" Father asked. Father went to put a gentle, but firm hand on his shoulder. "You don't look so well. Are you okay? There's an infirmary? Do you need to go there?" Father's voice seemed to show genuine worry and care. 

"I'm.. Fine. Why. Can't I remember anything, and why do I get a massive headache every time I try?" Evan shook the hand off... he was just.. just.. It was just irritating when he was like this. Eventually his migraine started to subside again, and his face lost it's expression of pain. "What happened here, and why am I like this?" He motioned to the spines on his arms.

Father leaned back in relief and folded his hands together. "You can't remember anything because some sorry low-life broke in here and drugged you. Pretty much your brain is forcing you not to remember, that's probably the headache. I don't know though, I'm not that kind of doctor." He stated. "What happened here and why are you like the way you are? Well this is your home, you were born here and raised here and you are just like you were when you were born." He stated simply. "My son."

If Evan had been able to remember anything, he might have immediatly dismissed the statement that he was born this way as complete fiction, but he was confused, had a headache, and couldn't remember a thing. It struck him as odd, considering he didn't think he was always like this, but he didn't exacly have any proof or reason to disagree with the man, unusual circumstances aside. "Alright.. So.. What are we going to do here? And.. Where's Mom?"

"Well, we've been given home here and I'm supposed to help train you." He stated. "Since you guys are so special, 'they', want to turn you into special people. People that stop bad people. Really bad people." Father said. "For example, the things on your arm are a great defense." He sighed as he heard the question about his mother. He pulled out a silk handkerchief from his lab coat and wiped his eyes. "It's never easy, your mother, she died some time ago in a plane crash..."

"Oh... Right, I think I heard you saying something about that..." Evan felt like he should have been sad, after all, apparently his mother was dead. ... But he just couldn't form any sort of emotional attatchment to the words. Perhapse that was because he just didn't remember anything, so he couldn't really miss what he never thought he had. "Alright..." Evan scratched his head. He really didn't have any other burning questions, prefering just to see what happened. "Thanks. I don't have any more questions." He pulled him self to his feet, and got ready to walk back to his cell, inspecting the spikes on his arms that his 'father' had said would be a great defence. They were certainly hard. And sharp, he found out when he accidentally pricked a finger. Maybe it could be used as a weapon too..