Darren sat in the place that had become his in his short interment. Slowly consuming the filth they had been served, he pondered his lot in life. His ultimate goal of finding and eviscerating the murderer of his parents complete, he found resolve within himself to become the well-behaved automaton that he was expected to be, waking and attending breakfast without the sisters needing to wake him, maintaining an outwardly polite demeanor, and resisting the subtle blood-lust he continued to feel, even after becoming intimately familiar with the nature of human entrails. Perhaps a new motivation, a new cause to strive for would come to him, but until then, he would neither seek one out nor end his life. Occasionally, a late riser would approach him and request that he provide them with slop beyond a single slice of toast. All were met with a wall of silence, their pleas insignificant to someone who felt no sympathy towards the careless.