"She's not even a little overweight? Are we sure we have the right girl?" I peered over my sunglasses at the little girl hanging onto her mother's hand. God, she couldn't be older than nine. 

Trust me, she's Gluttony. The voice sounded pissed.  

I shut up. See, I didn't trust it. Not after it took control of my body last night; forcing me to judge that man—no, he was little more than a boy. 

He'd killed himself with a kitchen knife five minutes after I touched him. 

It's laughter had ringed inside my skull, but I did laugh along. 

I stared at the dark haired child currently rummaging through her mother's pocket. 

Oh gods, she reminded me of—

What was that? A panic attack? 

"No." I stood still. "It was nothing. I was just remembering some stuff."

Yes. Now I knew what the voice and the mask and the glove were. Not the symbols of justice—but the chains of deceit. 

They used me. And I would not forget that sin. 

The little girl huddled next to the still body of her mother, eyes wide, breath panting. 

Crap. She was about to cry. 

I crouched down, offering a hand. When she didn't take it, I left it dangling awkwardly. 

"Hey," I breathed, going for a smile. My muscles felt stiff, unused to smiling so widely. So innocently. "It's gonna be okay. Your mommy's fine, she's just asleep." I croned softly, almost singing the words. 

I peeled off the black glove on my left hand and held it out to her. "Let me help you." 

She stared at it.

The voice inside my head wrestled for control of my body, yelling all the while. I ignored it—now that I knew who he was. 

She took my head, and I closed my eyes. I reached out, mentally yanked the implanted memories out of her right before he screamed in wrath and made the teardrop fell. 

It soaked onto her cheek, and he threw his entire power into capturing my right hand. My fingers touched her forehead. 

She started, but remained looking at me quizzically. I smiled back, and got up. 

When I turned to go, she whispered in a voice that was not hers. 

"Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is set on earthly things." 

I closed my eyes, exhaled. "Thanks, Mother. I'll come to the family soon." 

I felt her presence vanish, and let the warning she'd given me settle into my bones. 

Tomorrow. 

I would face the monster who'd implanted himself into my head tomorrow.

I would face the maker of the mask and glove I'd so foolishly believed were blessings, tomorrow.

Tomorrow I would face my father. 

And I would execute him. 

I hated it when people took advantage of me.