A/N:

Please, this is a very important note, alright?

I feel I'll have to start put warning labels on these chapters.

So, nothing too crazy happens this Lock. But please, guys, keep in mind that things are definitely going to slowly start taking more and more of a 'M' rating here.

When we start getting to the chapters where this happens, I will make sure to leave warnings, alright?

Anyway, please enjoy. Also, don't forget to leave me comments and tell me what you think about what you all get to learn in this particular Lock. It's not a whole lot of new information, but some of you I'm quite sure most of you either didn't quite guess or had absolutely no idea about.

Sixteen years before...

She heard the beep, beep, beep of the alarm. Reaching out quickly, she slammed her hand down on the button to turn it off. The sound stopped and she let out a soft sound of relief. Blinking, she rubbed at the sleep in her eyes. Blinking even more, she stared at the red, lighted face of the alarm. Thinking hard, she recognized the blocky lines as the thing called '6'. That meant that she was just supposed to make breakfast this morning. Nodding, she threw back her covers and rose to her feet. She shivered a little as her bare feet touched the wooden floor. Turning her head, she stared at the small folding table by the foot of bed.

Moving to it, she picked up the red short-sleeved shirt and the pair of blue jeans, quickly putting them on. Under the two articles of clothing were a pair of white socks that were stuck together that she quickly put on her feet. Done, she grabbed her brush from atop her wide, short dresser and began to untangle the knots from her hair. Then she opened her room door and stepped out into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, she quickly began getting to work on breakfast. She grabbed the folding footstool, placing it so that she could get down a measuring cup, a mixing bowl, a sauce pot, and a cookie sheet. Placing those on the counter, she grabbed a skillet and got down from the footstool. She then moved to the fridge, opening it up and finding the red and white tub that had the picture of biscuits on it. Placing that on the opposite counter, she grabbed the carton of eggs, butter tub, and gallon of milk.

She grabbed the footstool and carried it back into her room. On the right side were shelves with lots and lots of food. Placing down the stool, she used it to reach the fourth shelf, which had all of the gravy packs. She grabbed two of the tan colored ones, the ones she knew was the 'biscuits' gravy'. Looking around, she tried to figure if she wanted to get anything else. After a moment, she shook her head. As her feet touched the floor once more, she glanced at the red, glowing lines of her alarm. She still saw the '6' but there was also the '13' too. Frowning, she shook her head. Father normally woke up at the '6:30'.

"I have to hurry up," she whispered to herself. She turned and lifted the stool with one arm, the gravy packs in the other. Back in the kitchen, she started working on the gravy, getting the water hot. She then picked up the tube of biscuits and turned it around until she found the numbers. Staring at them, she read '350'. Turning the black knob at the front of the stove, she did so. Then she grabbed the timer out of the drawer and glanced back at the tube. '5', it said.

Nodding, she pressed the buttons until it said '05:00', then she hit the green button. Placing that on the counter, she grabbed the cookie sheet and started following the instructions Father had drilled into her. Father had explained to her how everything was made, how things were done. Nodding her head to herself, she continued making breakfast.

A bit of time later, she was pouring a hot cup of coffee into the large mug Father liked. It had words on the front, written in blue over the white mug, but the only one she could really understand was 'I'. As she was starting to put in two spoonfuls of sugar into the cup, a deep voice behind her, followed by the heavy sounds of footsteps, made her turn. "Father..." she murmured.

Father was very large, so much so that he had to half-duck his head to pass under some of the doorways in the house. When Girl had asked him how tall he was, he explained he was seven feet, had been since he was about twenty years old. He honestly looked like a giant shadow that had come to life, black like the night, with no hair on his head. His eyes were black, though they were currently closed with a very wide yawn. He came out of his room, which was directly across from the kitchen, with only a pair of dark blue shorts on. His eyes slowly opened and he blinked blearily at her before taking in a deep breath. "Mmmm, Girl, that smells good."

"Food's almost done," she told him as she turned back to the mug of coffee. "Waiting on the biscuits," she explained.

Father moved across the room, pulling back a chair to sit down at the small table he ate at. "Good, good. Just make sure to hurry it up," he grumbled, yawning again.

She merely nodded her head. While she put in the sugar, the timer began to beep. She quickly placed the spoon down and grabbed the oven mitts to open up the oven and pull out the tray of hot, golden biscuits. "Perfect," she whispered to herself, nodding her head.

As she turned off the oven and placed the tray on top of the stove, she heard Father's impatient growl. "Almost done," she tossed over her shoulder in reassurance. She quickly filled up his plate, piling it with lots of biscuits and eggs to the side. Moving over to him, she set it down in front of him with a fork as well. As he started eating some of the scrambled eggs, she moved to get a bowel down from another cabinet section. She ladled out enough white gravy to fill the bowel halfway, picking up his coffee mug as well. Placing them to his left side, she stepped back. Moving her hands behind her back, she waited patiently.

Father dug in to his meal wholeheartedly. By the time the glowing green lights on the microwave said '6:45', he'd had two plates full. Girl had dutifully refilled his plate, as well as his mug of coffee. When he finished, she put all his dishes in the sink, running hot water over them to clear off the remains of the food. As she was doing this, Father's hulking frame loomed over her from behind.

Even when she was standing on the footstool, the top of her head just barely reached the middle of his chest. He reached down and wrapped an arm around the front of her shoulders, pulling her back against him. She slowly lowered the dishes into the sink, releasing them. She knew what was next.

Turning in his arms, she called upon the wild, sparking energy inside her. It made her head buzz, made her feel a little dizzy. Father said it was her special power. It made her different from him. But she wasn't going to grow up a Bad girl, like Mother had been. Mother had been a Bad girl and she hadn't used her special power right. But Father knew how to do it. He knew how to make sure Girl never grew up Bad. Very slowly, she pressed her lips to the hard muscles of his abs. As she did, she felt the sparking energy of the power in her surge forth.

Father let out a low, guttural growl. "Mmmm, better at waking me up than coffee," he chuckled a little.

Girl didn't flinch back in fear. She knew that sound. It meant she'd done it right. She'd been a Good girl. Happy that she'd done it right, she pressed her lips to Father's chest again. I'm a Good Girl!she thought in bubbly happiness.

His hand shot up and pulled at her hair, hard, making her eyes sting with tears. He growled again, but it wasn't filled with that layer of...of something that Girl knew was good. This growl was angry, mad; ready to slap her. "Don't you dare!" Father said in a soft, deadly voice. "I'm a good man. I don't touch you. I don't take you. So don't you dare make me want to, girl!"

She nodded her head quickly, even against the pain that came from the pull of his fingers still in her hair. "I-I won't, Father. I-I'm sorry!" she hiccuped.

"Now don't you start trying to cry, girl," Father muttered. "You were a Bad girl. Where do Bad girls go?"

Eyes widening in fear, Girl's lips shook in plea. "N-no...p-please, Father..."

Using his strength to lift her up into the air with just his hand still in her hair, Father started toward the far end of the kitchen. There, looking innocent and white, was Girl's worse nightmare. He pulled up the lid of the evil Cold Box, dumping her in. She let out a shuddering gasp as her shoulder slammed into the side of the inner part of the box. "Now you just think about what you did wrong while I get ready for work," he instructed.

The lid slammed down with a familiar thud. A second later, she heard the faint thump of the very heavy box Father kept beside the Cold Box being placed on top, effectively sealing her in. But Girl had long ago stopped fighting to get out. She'd learn that physically protesting only served to make Father angry. It only served to make things worse for herself.

Instead, she pulled her knees in close to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. The Cold Box was dark, the familiar hum of it working the only thing she tried to let herself focus on. But even though she fought it, her mind and body could only take in the cold. There were two very small lights up by where the lid opened, but they weren't on now. They only turned on when the lid was opened, as Girl knew. You could see them when it got darker in the house. But it wasn't the dark she feared. It was the cold.

Underneath her, she could feel the cold, slippery surface of the plastic bags and boxes of food that were kept in the Cold Box. She usually had to dig inside the Cold Box when she made dinner, or sometimes lunch, so she knew exactly what was inside it. She knew the probing, sharp spike against her left ankle was the bag of shrimp Father had brought home three weeks ago but had yet to tell her he wanted her to cook.

Swallowing rapidly, she fought not to panic. It's just cold, she told herself. Just the cold. Nothing bad. The only problem was, all her mind could associate the cold with was bad. Quietly, in the darkness of her isolation, she sobbed. She shivered, hard, inside the freezing prison. It didn't take very long for her tears to begin to harden and freeze as well. But all she could do was shiver, shake, and cry. It's all she knew how to do. It was all she knew.

Some time later, maybe five or six minutes, she heard the dragging of the box as it was taken off the lid. A second later, the lid opened up and Father's stern, stony face stared down at her. "Is kissing something you should do more than once, unless I tell you?" he asked softly.

Girl's skin was both relived and hurt at the sudden exposure to a much warmer air temperature. She tried to lick her lips, but thought better of it a second later. Her voice, when she found her words, was a harsh whisper. "N-no," she answered.

He nodded his head once. "Good. Remember that, Girl. The power you have makes it very easy for you to turn men into demons. Do you know what a demon is?" He reached down into the freezer, propping the door lid open with his other hand.

She shook her head very slightly, her skin feeling cold and hurting. She was still shivering and it made it hard for her to get her stiff, cold muscles to move. But after a few more seconds, she unhinged her arms from around herself, reaching up with her hand to take hold of his. He used his strength to pull her up, jerking her arm with him. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. She was nothing but grateful for Father's help. She didn't want to be stuck inside the Cold Box for any longer than she'd already been.

"A demon is a beast that devours you. A demon is what a man will become when he wants you," Father explained in a cold voice. "A demon is what you tried to make me earlier. I am not a demon, Girl, I am a man. Do not ever do that again."

"Y-y-yes, Fat-ther," she shivered as he lifted her up by her hips and placed her back down on the kitchen's tiled floor. She fought back the wince the lid caused her as it banged against her back and side as he awkwardly got her out.

His hands around her hips squeezed in warning for half a second, before he relaxed his hands, but he didn't release her yet. She stared up into his dark eyes, seeing something in them that made her shiver, though for once not from the cold. "Every day, you look more and more like your mother," he sighed. "Every day, the succubus in you calls to me even more..."

"S-s-succub-bus?" she repeated uncertainly. "W-what's tha-at?"

"A demon that turns men into demons. A Bad girl. You can't ever be a Bad girl," he told her sternly. "Not until and unless I tell you, understand?"

She nodded quickly, raising her hands up to wrap around herself. "I...I won't b-be a B-Bad girl," she promised.

"Good," he sighed once more. She took in his normal work outfit of a dark blue shirt with a little pocket at his chest. He had on a pair of heavy black work pants and black steel-toed boots. She knew, because he'd kicked her with them once, when she'd nearly burned down the house.

She'd been five, trying to cook his dinner for the first time by herself. But that had been three years ago and she'd certainly learned her lesson very well. It had been the only time he'd ever kicked her and the memory of the feeling from the impact of his boots had stayed with her...even to today.

She found a small smile to see him off. "Have a good day, Father," she told him, her voice shaking only a little. Most of the cold in her body was starting to recede and she wasn't shivering nearly as bad anymore.

He nodded his head, dropping his hands to his sides. "I'll see you tonight. The boys'll be coming over, so make sure you cook us up something good, you hear?"

Girl nodded quickly. "Yes, Father."

"Good girl," he tossed her a brief smile before turning on his heel and starting toward the front door.

Girl trailed behind him, making sure to wear a smile for every time he glanced back over his shoulder. Once he reached the door, he grabbed hold of the house and car keys he had hanging up on a nail that only he could reach, almost level with the top of the doorway. He shot her one last glance before opening the door and stepping out.

She made sure to hide herself around the back of the door as he did. She wasn't allowed to go outside unless Father was with her and said so. She wasn't allowed to let anyone on the outside see her either. As he closed the door, she made sure to put on the lock, as well as the chain lock. Then, slowly, she backed up and away from the door. Three steps, seven steps, ten steps...

She froze, straining her ears. There was no sound of Father's heavy footfalls returning. In fact, she heard the sound of him backing out of the driveway and leaving! Excitement shot throughout her entire body, but she raised her hands to her mouth to muffle her little squeal. Shaking her head at herself, she lowered her hands and turned on her heel.

Directly to her left, on the far side of the living room wall, was their TV. Feeling her excitement rise back up, she rushed to her room, going around the corner it required to go through the kitchen. Inside her room, she pulled the cord that turned on the light. With the sudden, bright light, her entire room was illuminated.

It wasn't very big, her room. To her left was her bed, shoved up under a empty shelf. When she was on her bed, she had just enough room to sit up, if she scrunched her shoulders, before hitting her head on the bottom of the shelf. At the foot of her bed was a small table that her clothes for the day were placed upon. On the other side of the head of her bed was another table, this one that simply held her alarm clock that Father made sure to set before he himself went to bed. Her alarm clock also had a built in radio as well.

Above the shelf above her bed was more shelves filled with food. Cans, boxes, packages. The shelves continued to the wall on the opposite side of where she was standing, and then to her right. Another empty shelf, this one hanging over her dresser. It was quite short, reaching to her waist, but it was very wide to make up for it. Father had made it himself, just like he'd made her bed and tables.

He promised that when she got older, bigger, he'd let her move into a bigger room. He said he might even let her sleep with him, which Girl could barely even imagine. How would she be able to fit on his bed, when he was so big himself? Father had to buy a very special type of bed from a store he said tall men like himself visited, but Girl herself had never seen it. Though, there had been one time when Father had had to buy a new bed and a man from the store had come to the house. Girl had been locked inside her room, told that she was not allowed to make a single sound until the man left. Unfortunately, she'd failed and Father had forced her to stay inside the Cold Box for ten minutes as punishment.

Shaking her head, she cleared it of the old memories. Right now, she was looking for the extra key to the TV. Normally, she was only allowed to watch the TV when Father was home and only on shows he allowed. But, two years ago, she'd managed to steal the spare key to the TV's little closet. Father had been angry and had looked for it for several days. But she'd found a loose floorboard in her room that she could shift to the side and hide things in. This was where she kept it when he was in the house. Now on her hands and knees, she pushed back the floorboard and reached down for the key, making sure to put the board back in place. Turning off the light, she moved back into the living room.

The TV was inside a large, wooden entertainment center that had a pair of doors you could shut the TV away in. It didn't normally lock, but Father had bought a chain and a padlock, placing them through the handles of the doors to make sure she couldn't get to the TV. But now, turning the key in the lock and placing the bothersome lock and chain on the floor, she opened the doors. Turning on the TV, she grabbed the remote that was kept with the TV in order to make sure it didn't get lost.

Flipping through the channels, she turned it to PBS. She saw Sesame Street was on and placed the remote on the arm of the couch fifteen feet from the TV. Going back into her room, she turned on the radio connected to her alarm clock. The music that came on made her smile and she was quickly singing along under her breath. With the music coming from her open room door and the sounds of the show from the TV, she moved to the stove.

Getting down a second plate, she looked at the leftovers that had long gone cold. Her stomach growled in anticipation and she licked her lips. Two biscuits, seven spoonfuls of eggs, and four spoonfuls of gravy were all that was left. "This is so much," she murmured. "Father must have not been very full," she decided.

Father didn't want her to get fat. He said it was unhealthy for a Good girl to eat too much food. When she did, she'd start to get flabby parts on her that she didn't need to. She'd start to eat more than she needed to, start to force others to spend more money on her. When they watched the TV together and a larger-looking lady came on the screen, Father would nod his head toward her. "See?" he'd say. "That's what happens to Bad girls who eat more than they should."

As such, she was only allowed to eat until after everyone else in the house did. If there was no food left, he allowed her to eat one small meal. While he wasn't home, she was allowed one snack and one frozen meal for lunch. He made sure to keep an inventory of everything they had, to know if she'd eaten more than she was allowed. So, now, she was scooping all the food onto her plate, even every last drop of gravy. She put her plate in the microwave for '00:45', hitting the big 'Start' button. Her stomach growled again, a little louder. She winced. "Shush, tummy," she told it. "Food's here now."

After her food was done, she sat down at the small table and quickly ate it all. All the while, the music and show kept going. She sang along with the songs she knew, which were quite a few. Afterwards, she started on the dishes. She bobbed her head to the fun songs and catch phrases from the show as she did those. Done with the dishes, she moved into the living room. Here, she couldn't really hear the radio anymore, but that was okay. She liked to have sound on in the house when Father was gone to work. Otherwise everything was empty and it reminded her all over again that she was completely alone. Watching the show, curled up on the couch, she learned another new letter. This one was 'N'. She wasn't exactly sure what 'N' was, but she knew she'd seen it before. According to the show, you said it like 'eennn'. Girl practiced it several times, trying to commit it to memory.

Once the show was over with, she turned the channel to the one that said 'MTV' on the screen. She knew it by heart. She glanced toward the kitchen, where the doorway of her room was, but shrugged. She didn't want to get up yet. Leaning back on the couch, she began to watch the fun short movies that played during different songs. Eventually, she forced herself to get up and look at the microwave clock, which read '9:46'. Sighing, she decided it was best she start on cleaning the house.

Time passed while she did so. It was a daily routine to her, one she did even on the days Father didn't go to work. Pick up the trash and loose things around the house. Sweep the floors. Vacuum the floors. Mop the kitchen and bathroom floors. Scrub the spots that refused to come off. Clean the walls, clean the counters, clean the surfaces, and dust all the corners and surfaces she could reach. Scrub down the bathroom and disinfect it, clean the tub, clean the toilet.

By the time the microwave read '1:21', she couldn't hold back her hunger anymore. Whimpering, she went into the kitchen-after washing her hands thoroughly-and found one of the little chicken pot pies in the tiny cold box above the fridge that Father bought for her alone-time meals. She put it inside the microwave, following the little picture of the microwave with the numbers on it to go by. Once it was done, she sat down at the table to eat. Glancing up, her face slowly broke into a smile.

She could see the TV screen from here and she couldn't help but clap her hands excitedly as she recognized the movie starting to play. The screen was flying through the air, zooming in on a dark city, a piano beginning in the background. Police sirens wailed and she knew that was her cue for the singing to begin. Deciding to let her pot pie cool off while she did, she sat up a little straighter in her chair.

"How can you see into my eyes, like open doors?" The screen arrived at a open window, with a white curtain billowing out in the breeze. "Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb." Now the screen was sneaking inside the window, looking in on a pretty white lady with long black hair in a grey dress. "Without a soul," very suddenly it showed the same lady falling through the air, from out of the window. The lady in the bed started to toss and turn her head on her pillow. "My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold, until you find it there and bring it back home." The video switched between the two ladies a few times. At 'home', it moved away and back out to the same building the lady was in, but a few floors up.

"Wake me up!" the music suddenly picked up from its pause in a room that was blue-silver, with a band inside it. The man in the front shouted the line, making Girl jump. No matter how many times she'd heard this song, that part always made her jump.

"Wake me up inside," Girl sang along with the lady, who's eyes had finally opened with the man's voice. "Wake me up inside," the lady rose up to a sitting position on the bed. "Save me!" the man shouted. "Call my name and save me from the dark," the lady pleaded as she stumbled to her feet.

The song continued and Girl followed it along unerringly. She even let out a squeak of fright and worry as the lady stepped outside of the window onto the very thin ledge, where the music had another abrupt pause and start again. "Please, don't fall lady," she begged as the lady started walking along the outside of the building. "You'll get hurt really bad."

Glancing down at her pot pie, she couldn't fight her hunger anymore. So, instead, she hummed along to the song as she began to dig in. Girl sort of knew what the song meant. She at least recognized a good portion of what the words in the song were. Since she didn't have to see the words, she could tell what they were. Just hearing them, she was fine. But even so, she had a little trouble catching some of the finer points of the song. Mostly, she just liked the music, the lady's voice, and what little she could understand. 'Wake me up', 'save me.' She liked those parts. 'Call my name and save me from the dark' too.

Once she was done with her food, she quickly cleaned off the single plate and fork. Sighing, she got up to her feet to stretch out. Going to the front door, she stared out the window beside the door. Moving back the curtain slightly, she made sure to hide most of her body behind it. Staring outside, she saw there were a few people out, though she didn't see any other kids her age. Letting the curtain fall back down, she moved around the house, glancing out between all the houses. As she looked outside through all the windows, the sounds of another song she recognized started up. Under her breath she began to sing along, suddenly the parts of the song she could really understand beginning to make her feel antsy.

"Untie the hands that bind your mind and be nice. She put a gun against her ear. Inside, against a gin and tonic sky, she's a star. She finds a place to lose her pain. Caged as she waits inside. Hate, and she wants to die...And she wants, and she wants to live."

As she reached the end of the chorus, she paused, standing at the back window, to the left of the Cold Box. Looking outside, at the back of the house, she could see a man. She'd seen this man a few times before, but she'd always been curious about him. Something about him had always seemed...different. Girl had never been able to figure out what exactly. But, looking at him, something inside her almost seemed to sense something...similar.

He was yellow-tanned in color, wearing a white shirt and a pair of jean shorts, with very short black hair. He was walking down the sidewalk behind the small back yard of her house. He was only about twenty feet away from where she was, in all honesty. He had his hands in his pockets, a blank expression on his face.

That something inside Girl kept growing stronger and stronger. She swallowed. The man continued a few feet on the sidewalk behind her house, before turning to his right and crossing the street. As she watched, he pulled out his keys from his pocket and stepped inside the door of a building. The feeling kept rising higher.

She began to break out into a sweat. She turned slightly, lowering the curtain back down, just a few inches, staring at the suddenly looming front door. Her gaze flickered to the microwave clock. '1:40', it said. She bit her lip. Father didn't get home until, at the earliest, '6:00'. And he said the 'boys' were coming as well, which made Girl's stomach twist in dread. But that usually meant that the three of them came home later, stinking, with that thick, awful taste on their breath. She was pretty sure it was called 'beer', though she didn't know what it was, exactly. They'd usually bring back even more of it too, in little silver and blue cans...Shaking her head, she glanced back out the window. Across the street, she could see movement through one of the third floor windows of the building.

The feeling pulled at her even harder. She had no idea what this feeling was. It made her stomach tighten and twist, made her palms sweat, and yet she also felt...excited. Sucking in a deep breath, she told herself to stop being silly. She couldn't leave. She couldn't go out of the house without Father.

Glancing back out the window, she spied the white of the man's shirt. The feeling kept tugging. Sighing, she decided that maybe she'd try it...just the once. After all, it had been a really long time since she'd been outside. Nearly three months now, she was pretty sure. The last time she'd been outside, it was cold and there hadn't been a lot of people about. Father said it was the perfect time to let her come out into the back yard, after he put up a little blanketed cover along one side of the house so no one would see her. And considering most of the houses had about forty feet or more between them, she'd never been noticed yet, as long as they were careful.

Girl wasn't quite sure why she couldn't see people, why people couldn't see her. But Father had explained that her special power would make everyone who looked at her face turn into demons, unless they had his protection. So, trusting in him, since Father was never wrong and had never lied to her, Girl did her absolute best to make sure no one ever saw her. Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she came up with an idea.

If she wore one of Father's jackets it would be much too big on her. And if she covered her face with the hood and kept her head down, no one would have to see her face! Nodding her head, she hurried to do that. I'll just be outside for a little bit, she told herself. J-just a small bit of time. A-and...and maybe I'll walk along the sidewalk, behind the house.

Standing at the door, she stared down at the gold knob. Very, very slowly, she grabbed hold of it with her hand. She began to shake, just a little...

As long as Father never knows, as long as I don't let anyone see my face, I'll be okay.

Gulping, she tightened her hand around the knob. Glancing over her shoulder, the feeling in her stomach grew larger. It was calling...

It was screaming...

She had to go now.

Shaking her head slightly, she unlocked the door with her free hand and twisted the knob. Without any struggle, the door opened. She blinked down at it. And, just like that, suddenly she was free...

Freedom.