.:New Beginnings:.

The corner of the cellar where Nicodemus had spent his entire life was damp and chilly. There was a small oil lamp he lit sometimes, and a little cot with a few raggedy blankets. An overturned crate served as both bedside table and storage for the few clothes the child posessed, these being oversized and mended many times over. It was in the corner walled off by the potato bins and there was a loose brick in the floor underneath which he hid all the small treasures he had stolen. Nevertheless, it was home. And the only home he had ever known.

And so it was that when the cellar door was flung open, flooding the small area with blinding daylight, when the man with the cat's paw came down among a flurry of distressed and protesting nuns, it was to find Nicodemus huddled behind the bed. Pressing himself against the wall, the young boy had hissed, his fingers shaped into rigid claws, prepared to attack. It took some doing and a mild sedative, but the boy was finally transferred to the FactionS facility.

When he woke, it was on a small but soft bed with thick blankets that looked new. Someone had changed his clothes and he found himself wearing a pair of white pajamas that had considerate slits in the back for his wings and tail. The room was not much bigger than the cellar, but it was clean and had a nightlight in the corner that burned cheerily in the shape of a small blue canary. There was a desk with nothing on it in one corner, and a small standing dresser in another. When Nicodemus tried the door, he found it locked. Rather than distress him, it seemed to comfort him here in this strange environment.

He had vague, blurry memories of being taken from the children's home. Enough that, while he didn't know exactly where he was, he knew that he'd been taken away. Away from the dark cave that he'd been trapped in for as long as he could remember. Away from the incessant wails and prayers of the sisters trying to save his immortal soul from the demon they were sure must have posessed and deformed him.

He paced the room just to make sure. To make sure they were all gone... that he wasn't imagining the clean room with the clean sheets and the clean smell. Finally satisfied, Nicodemus padded his way back to the bed and crawled once more under the covers. Whatever this place was, it couldn't be worse than the one he'd been in before.

***

The door barely made a sound when it opened. It was much quieter then the creaking cellar door he'd been used to. And yet even the slight whisper was enough to wake Nicodemus. He sat up straight and pressed himself against the wall, hissing under his breath.

The person who entered was clad in a lab coat and carried a covered tray. She smiled gently at Nicodemus, setting the tray on the little desk in the room and lifting the lid. The little boy's nose twitched at the rich smell that emanated from the steaming bowl. "Are you hungry, sweetie?" She asked, stepping closer. Nicodemus pressed himself even closer to the wall, bringing his wings around to shield him. Was she an excorsist? He wasn't sure. He didn't like excorsists. The lady just smiled and stood up. "I'll be back later, little one. You're safe now, you know. We're going to take good care of you."

After she left, Nicodemus crept cautiously towards the steaming bowl. It was full of a rich brown stew and there were thick slabs of bread and cheese and a little bunch of grapes on the tray as well. The little boy quivered, strung tight as a bow. tentatively, he sniffed. Then inhaled a little more deeply. It smelled like heaven! Picking up the hot bowl, he brought it to his mouth. There was a spoon on the tray, but Nico had never used such a thing and didn't know what it was for. The stew was rich and filled his mouth with a warmth he'd never quite experienced. After the first careful taste the dual-colored eyes widened and he tipped the bowl more deeply, greedily devouring it's contents and everything else on the tray. Belly full and rounded, Nico let out a contented little belch and wobbled back to bed.

***