Misconceptions Chapters 7 + 8

Misconceptions

Chapter 7—Answers
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Author's Note: Chapter 7—in which Evelyn gets answers… and Otto has a heart-to-heart talk with Spider-Man (Well, kind of...) Enjoy…!
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The infamous villain known throughout Manhattan (and the whole country, for that matter) as Doctor Octopus stared at his niece across the kitchen table. "So. Your questions," he said bluntly. "Go ahead and ask me."

"I can ask you anything?" Evelyn asked nervously.

"Anything."

"Are we even related?"

As a reply, he grabbed her wrist with his hand, very nearly hurting her as he gripped her tightly. Startled, she attempted to break free, but he held her fast. He's stronger than he looks, she thought nervously.

"Look at me, Evelyn," he growled. "Do you really think I would have fought for full custody of you if you weren't related to me? Do you really think I would have gone through all of that trouble?"

"Uh, I don't know; I—uh—" she stammered.

He pulled her close to her, so that her face was only inches away from his. "You've got Octavius blood running through your veins, girl. I thought you deserved a second chance."

Evelyn scoffed. "A second chance? I don't see what kind of 'second chance' you thought you could give me, Otto. Being the most wanted criminal in the country makes that a little hard, doesn't it?"

"You don't understand. I told your father I would take care of you when he died." He gave her an indifferent look. "And before you even ask, I don't even think he knew. We grew apart over something else entirely."

Evelyn didn't say anything, and that was a cue for Otto to continue. "Just because you don't want to believe it, doesn't mean it's not true. You are my niece, Evelyn. You'll just have to accept that." He looked down at the floor. "You are the last Octavius; and the last living family I have." His head snapped back up, and the determined scowl on his face had returned. "Any other questions?"

"Actually, yeah. How do those arms of yours work?"

Otto was liking this girl more and more. Not only did she have spite and ambition to rival his, she also was extremely curious. He liked her curiosity.

He had to admit she was growing on him. Despite the fact that his initial impression of Evelyn was that she was a rich, stuck up brat who was exactly like her father in every way, his opinion of her was changing all the time.

As a reply to her question, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure you want to?" he asked.
His niece nodded eagerly. "Show me how those things work. They're kind of creepy, but they're really amazing. Is it true that you built them yourself?"

Otto smiled. "Indeed I did, Evelyn," he replied proudly. "If you'll give me a minute...?" With some difficulty, he took off his white tank top, revealing the harness that was permanently fused to his spine. He motioned for Evelyn to come closer. "Come on, don't be shy now. You can look."

Evelyn nervously approached her uncle, looking at the harness itself, which wound around his chest. It was a very intricate-looking device, with clasps for where one would remove it and put it on. "Can't you take them off?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Believe me, they tried to..." The super villain gave his niece a malicious grin. "They stopped when they found out that removing it could kill me. I don't think they wanted any messy lawsuits on their hands."

Otto turned his head, looking behind him. "If you look at my back, where the actuators are, you'll see why I can't ever remove it."

Curious, his niece went behind him and glanced at his actual back, where the tentacles weaved around him almost nervously. Without a spoken word from their master, they stopped moving, allowing her to get a closer look.

What she saw made her gasp involuntarily. Man and machine had truly become one here; scar tissue had formed at the points where the harness had melded onto the skin, and she could tell where the harness ended and the skin began only because the apparatus was made out of some kind of metal. "What is this made of?" she asked, reaching out to touch it.

"Titanium," he answered from behind her. "At the time, it was the strongest metal out there. Not so nowadays."

He gasped as her fingers brushed against his bare skin. It had been so long since someone had touched him (doctors and surgeons hoping for a chance at fame did not count) that he had almost forgotten what it had felt like. He almost recoiled at her touch, shuddering a little. Startled, Evelyn pulled her hand back. "Sorry," she said softly.

"It's quite alright," he replied. "You have a right to be curious. Curiosity is what created most of humanity's greatest inventions." He looked away from her before saying, "I'm just not used to being touched by anyone."

Evelyn decided to break the awkwardness by asking another question. "How much do they weigh, exactly? They must be pretty heavy."

"They weigh around two hundred and fifty pounds," he replied, grimacing. "They used to weigh around three hundred pounds, but I made them a little more... lightweight."

Evelyn's eyes widened. "Wow..." she said. She frowned a little. "I bet they hurt you all the time, don't they?"

Otto stared at the floor. "As a matter of fact, they do hurt a lot," he admitted. "They're killing me right about now," he added, still staring at the floor. He was almost embarrassed to admit it to her, but it was true; and after all, he wouldn't be keeping any secrets from her any longer.

His curious niece looked up at the actuators themselves with almost splendid awe. Granted, she was still angry at her uncle – her very own uncle – for deceiving her, but she put her hurt feelings aside for the moment. She also put aside the fact that he was a wanted criminal mastermind. Despite that he was a criminal, he was also a genius. These arms were incredible! She reached up a hand towards them. "Can I touch them?" she asked eagerly.

Otto shrugged. "Sure," he said.

Evelyn ran a hand along one of the tentacles, surprised that the metal was cool to the touch. The tentacle in question nearly recoiled at first, but then it acted almost friendly to her, moving as though it enjoyed her touch. After she removed her hand, the tentacle raised up; startled, she moved back. But she found out a second later that it had no malicious intent; it clicked and made almost a chirping type of sound as the pincer nuzzled against her face affectionately.

"They like you," her uncle noted, his back still to her. "Quite an interesting turn of events. When we first met, they were bent on killing you."

Confusion stole over Evelyn's face as she backed up against a wall in fear. "I don't understand," she said, frightened.

"Allow me to explain," Otto replied. He sat down at the kitchen table, and Evelyn did the same. He gave her a reassuring smile before beginning to speak. "You see, in order to make these arms work, I had to delve a little into the field of robotics. Without artificial intelligence, they wouldn't have worked at all." He paused a moment. "So I gave them some AI." Noticing the terrified look on her face, he gave her another reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I have them completely under my control. They won't hurt you, even if they wanted to. Besides, like I just said, they like you now. They'll protect you."

"Are you sure they won't hurt me?" she asked, not one bit less frightened than she was before.

"Positive."

Seeing the disbelief on Evelyn's face, he frowned. "I wouldn't lie to you, girl."

Her skeptic look only intensified. "Yeah. Right. You already have."

"I didn't lie to you," he said defensively. "I just kept some things from you. You weren't ready yet."

"Some people would argue that that is lying," she replied huffily. "Why should I even believe a word of what you say? For all I know, you just want to use me for something."

"That's not the truth at all, but believe what you want." Otto looked out the window. "I need to go back and get the van. It has our groceries in it." He gave her a stern look. "But before I go, I need to ask you something."

"Ask away," she muttered, running her hands through her hair in exasperation.

"I need to know if you want to stay here or not. The police are always an option, though I'd like it if you didn't get me arrested by giving away where we live. The choice is yours; and if you choose to stay, we need to have a long talk."

Evelyn didn't say anything, fidgeting with her hair and blatantly ignoring him.

"Well?"

"Fine," she mumbled. "I'm staying here. But that doesn't mean I'm going to like it."

"I didn't say you had to." He put his shirt and coat on and turned to leave. "I'll be back soon," he said, before the front door closed shut.

Evelyn stared at the table and thought about what she knew about Doctor Octopus.

Doc Ock was well known throughout the country as the man who frequently terrorized Manhattan and the surrounding area; he could only be stopped by a masked superhero, more often than not Spider-Man, although he had fought the Fantastic Four, Captain America, and other superheroes a few times. He was relentless and showed no mercy towards those who got in his way; often killing them or scarring them for life. His four mechanical arms made those who stood against him powerless, and he was often referred to as Spider-Man's greatest foe, even defeating Spidey himself more than once.

Then Evelyn thought about her uncle, the person she had been living with for two months, unaware of his criminal activities and his past. Uncle Otto had been stoic and mostly kept to himself, usually leaving her to her own devices. Once in awhile he would help her with her homework and sometimes they would play a board game or eat dinner together, but that was only about once or twice a week. Even so, Evelyn had gleaned from this that Uncle Otto was a bit of a workaholic, he liked to read (a lot; when he wasn't holed away in his room, he was in the living room reading), and that he had a bit of a sardonic sense of humor.

She also felt that he cared about her. A lot, in fact. It was though he felt obligated to protect her, somehow.

But now, Evelyn was torn from what she had known and what she had just learned. Maybe he's just misunderstood, she thought. No way! the sensible side of her mind argued. He just wants you to work with him as a criminal. There's no way that's happening.

She sighed, drumming her fingers across the surface of the table. She would stay, she ultimately decided. She would stay and see what Otto had planned.
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Meanwhile, Otto had arrived back to the hardware store parking lot, looking down upon it from a rooftop. It was quite empty except for the occasional spatter of blood on the pavement, probably both his and Rhino's.

Unfortunately, the van was also missing.

Damn. Two getaway vehicles in just as many weeks. He would have to be more careful.

And on top of that, their groceries and his equipment and tools were still in that van! Oh, hell. Now what to do?

Otto put a hand to his forehead. He was surprised he was still standing; all of that fighting with Rhino and all of that drama with Evelyn had really worn him down. He had a splitting headache, and on top of that, he was just so damn exhausted.

Doc Ock sat down on the edge of the rooftop. The loss of the van was bad news, indeed. And yet... he felt he needed to be... nice to Evelyn, somehow. The poor girl was probably at home crying her eyes out.

Or something like that.

He wracked his brain for something nice he could do for her, and found it difficult. He had given up trying to be kind to people long ago—what was the point, when he would always be ridiculed and feared, chased by police and superheroes alike? It didn't matter. His fate was already sealed; being nice wasn't going to change anything; if at all, it usually made the situation worse.

But Evelyn was different. She was the daughter he never had; the protege he had always yearned for.

He hated to admit it, but she was his chance to prove himself.

"Heya, Doc! Enjoying the view?"

Otto didn't even turn his head. "Go away, Spider-Man," he said flatly. "I am in no mood to deal with you today."

"Geez, Ocky, are you sure you're alright? You're usually always up for a head-bashing. You've avoided me twice in the past two days. There must be something seriously wrong! Did you hit your head?"

The super-villain said nothing. He really wasn't in the mood to listen to Spider-Man's sarcastic and witty comments. Otto turned his head to glance at the wall-crawler. Sure enough, the pesky superhero was sitting next to him, hands cupped in his chin in an almost wistful expression.

Spider-Man turned to look at his enemy. "Don't you ever get sick of it?"

"Sick of what?"

"I don't know... Being the bad guy...? Ever get sick of all of that fighting? All of that being chased down? All of the failure?"

"Don't you have anything better to do than harass criminals?" he retorted, hurt by his comment.

Spider-Man shrugged. "Hey, it's just my job."

"It's not a job," the super-villain replied. "It's just what you think is your half-baked obligation to fight freaks and criminals such as me all of the time." He gave the wall-crawler a dirty look. "You must not have too much of a life, Spider-Man."

The red-and-blue clad superhero held up his hands. "You know, Otto, you're half right."

He raised his eyebrows. "Am I?"

Spider-Man nodded. "Yup, you sure are. What we both do isn't a job." He shot out a web from out of his wrist. "It's a choice." The webbing caught on to a rooftop across the street, and he swung away, leaving the super-villain sitting on the rooftop. Spider-Man... Only God knew why Otto never killed him when he got the chance to.

The super-villain stood up and began to navigate the rooftops, deciding to take a little detour before he went home to his niece...
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About a half an hour later, Evelyn heard the front door open and she picked her head up from off of the table as she watched Otto stride in carrying—wait, was that a...?

He set the box down on the table almost proudly. Yep, that was a pizza box.

"I didn't know what you would like, so I got a little of both," he said.

Evelyn opened the pizza box and noted that it was half cheese and half pepperoni. It sure did smell good...

Otto set down another package and a couple of cans of soda down on the table as well. "Probably not very good for you, but..." he chuckled.

Evelyn closed the pizza box and picked up the package, staring at it incredulously. "You like Oreos...?" she said, giving him an suspicious look.

"Yes, I do," he admitted. He gave her an almost accusing glare. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Evelyn replied. "It's just...weird, that's all."

Otto shrugged. "I don't find it weird, but that's just me." He took off his coat and shirt nonchalantly and went over to the kitchen cupboards. "Where are the paper plates?" he asked.

His niece took a bite out of a slice of pizza. "I dunno," she said. "They should be around here somewheres."

Doc Ock found the paper plates and set a couple on the table. "Eat over the plate," he advised her sternly.

Evelyn smiled and moved the paper plate underneath her pizza. She suddenly noticed something on Otto's arm. "Is that a tattoo?" she asked him.

He conspicuously covered the arm with his free hand. "It's nothing," he replied hastily. "Nothing at all."

"No, seriously!" she insisted. "What is it?"

Otto sighed. "Do you really want to know?" Damn, this girl was persistent.

"Yeah, of course I do."

He set his piece of pizza down and showed her his arm.

At first glance, it was a simple tattoo of a smiley face—but this was no regular smiley face. This smiley face was wearing a pair of black sunglasses and looked pretty mean as it grinned with obvious malicious intent. Coming out from behind the smiley face were four sinister-looking silver tentacles. The initials O.O. were below the tattoo in blue ink.

"Wow..." Evelyn breathed. "That's really cool!"

Otto grimaced. "Yes, 'very cool,'" he grumbled. "I was ridiculously drunk at the time. It's one of the many things I regret."

"You shouldn't regret it," Evelyn said encouragingly. "It's you."

Doc Ock glanced down at the tattoo indifferently. "Hmmm... I suppose."

They ate in silence, the only sound in the room coming from the rather annoying clicking sound of Otto's tentacles. When they were finished, Doc Ock stood up and began to leave the room.

"Hey, wait just a second!" his niece called out, a little annoyed. "Aren't we going to talk or something?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry, but can that please wait until tomorrow? I need to get some sleep before I pass out from exhaustion."

"Okay," Evelyn said softly. A second later she heard his bedroom door shut and knew she had better not bother him for at least the next few hours.

She stared at the nearly empty pizza box and it dawned on her that he had probably stolen it.
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Chapter 8—Pre-Training

The next day was Sunday. Evelyn usually slept in late on the weekends, and this day was no dif-ferent. By the time she woke up, the sun was already shining through her threadbare curtains. She yawned as she got up, opening the curtains and staring out into the slums of New York.

Evelyn, still half-asleep, walked into the kitchen with the intent of making some breakfast.

Apparently, her uncle had gotten up before her, because he was sitting at the table, his head bu-ried in a newspaper. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of loose fitting jeans. Obviously he now saw no need to wear something to cover the metallic arms permanently fused to his body. A metallic claw held a cup of coffee and occasionally he would take a sip off of it, picking it up with a human hand before handing it back to the tentacle.

She had forgotten about what had happened yesterday.

Evelyn deliberately ignored him and went over to the cupboard, taking out some utensils to make pancakes with.

"Good morning, Evelyn."

She whipped around and saw that her uncle was peeking out from his newspaper, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Evelyn turned back around, ignoring him. She couldn't believe she was still even here—she most certainly wouldn't be if she had somewhere to go. Anywhere to go. But she didn't, and so she was reluctantly willing to give him a chance.

But that didn't mean she was going to make it easy for Doc Ock.

Evelyn discovered that there was no pancake mix. No english muffins or bagels either.

"I see you're still upset over yesterday." She looked at her uncle again, who had set down the newspaper on the kitchen table. He nodded understandably. "I do understand, but ignoring me is not going to help anything."

She continued to ignore him, searching for something to eat. She came up with a few slices of half-stale bread. Evelyn glared at her uncle accusingly, using this as an excuse to be further irri-tated at him. "I hope you realize that there's nothing to eat in this f**king hellhole?"

He simply gave her a stern look of indifference. "Please, Evelyn. Your foul language doesn't be-come you. There are so many more efficient ways to express your anger."

He gestured with one of his hands. "For example, if I was angry at the editors for the Daily Bugle for slandering my name (which they often do), there are several ways I could go about ex-pressing my anger. I could simply call up the chief editor and cuss him out, or I could kidnap and kill one of their reporters. Which do you think would get the message across clearer?"

He saw the look of horror on her face at him mentioning capturing and killing someone and looked at the floor. "Maybe that's not the best example, but..." He looked at her. "Do you see my point?"

"What I see is where we're going to have major issues, Uncle Otto," she replied, exasperated. "You're a criminal. You kill people. You kill innocent people." She gave him a disgusted look. "Have you no respect for human life?"

"I am not going to have a discussion on ethics and morals with you, girl."

"Well, it's just kind of hypocritical, isn't it? I mean, you bitch at me about my swearing, when you go out and kill people on a regular basis!"

Evelyn had obviously hit a nerve. Otto stood up. "If you'll excuse me for a moment," he growled. "I'll be right back. I need to clear my head."

About five minutes later, he came back into the kitchen, looking a little less flustered and wear-ing a blanket draped around his shoulders. Evelyn stared at it. "Why the blanket?"

"I was cold. The heating system for this place is terrible."

"Well, yeah, but can't you just wear a sweater?" She almost finished the statement with, 'like a normal person?' but she caught herself just in time. He would have definitely hurt her if she had said that.

He frowned. "They don't make clothes for people with four extra limbs, Evelyn."

"Yeah, but you were wearing that tank top yesterday—"

"Because I cut holes in it. Listen, Evelyn," he said, taking a sip of his coffee, "I'd really like it if I wouldn't have to hide them when you're around. You already know, so what's the problem?"

"Well, they, uh..."

"They bother you? 'Creep you out?'"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's about it."

He seemed to consider her statement before saying bluntly, "Well, that's too bad. You better get used to them, because I'm not going to bother covering them anymore. I'm sick and tired of hid-ing from everyone, and that includes you."

Evelyn was surprised by the last sentence of his statement. So what he was doing was admitting his crimes and asking her just to accept everything? Figures...

He held up his hands in defeat. "You know who I am and what I've done. All that I ask is that you take me as I am. I'm trying, which is more than you can say for your mother's side of the family."

"You leave them out of this!" she shouted. They had refused to take care of her under any cir-cumstance whatsoever, even willing to give her up to the state. Uncle Otto had been the only one willing to take her in and accept the role of legal guardian. She had been very grateful for this.
Of course, the fact that her uncle was actually the maniacal mad scientist known as Doctor Octo-pus kind of changed everything.

He made a hand gesture as if to say she knew he was right. "Well... it's the truth. There's no sense in denying it." She said nothing in reply, frowning and turning away.

Otto took off his sunglasses and looked her in the eyes. Their brown eyes locked as the super villain tried to explain what he couldn't say in words. He sighed. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"Maybe, but that doesn't change much, does it?" Evelyn shot back.

"No... I suppose it doesn't."

"So, what's the deal?" Evelyn asked. "Am I still going to go to school and everything?"

"Yes," her uncle said firmly. "School is your top priority right now, girl. Education isn't some-thing to be taken lightly. Don't ever throw it away."

She nodded.

"Now that that is settled, it brings us to the most important issue, which is—"

She cut him off. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no." She shook her head vehemently. "I am not going to work with you on whatever horrible, terrible, and evil things you do. So do NOT even think about asking me!"

Otto scoffed. "What I do is not terrible, horrible, or evil, but you are entitled to your own opi-nion."

Her uncle stood up. "Even so, the fact that you know who I am puts you in danger. There are many who would love nothing better than to hurt or kill you to get to me."

Evelyn said nothing. She hadn't thought of that.

"Thus, you shall have to learn skills that I shall teach you. How to defend yourself. Stealth. The fine art of manipulation. Etcetera." He saw the look on her face and frowned. "You have to learn these skills if you want to stay with me, Evelyn. It's for your own protection." Otto turned and looked out the window. "Think what you like about me, but I truly do not want to see you dead."

Evelyn, who was still sitting at the table, sighed. "I guess I have to learn, huh?"

He nodded. "Yes, you do. I can protect you to some extent, but it would be comforting to know that you can take care of yourself as well."

She got up and opened the refrigerator, staring into the emptiness of it. "So when does this 'training' of yours begin?"

"Today, if you'd like. There's no rush, but I would like to teach you sometime this week." He peeked over her shoulder into the fridge. "But I need to go shopping first."

"Um, yeah. About that." Evelyn faced her uncle, one hand on her hip. "I thought we went shop-ping yesterday?"

Otto sighed. He had known this was coming... "The vehicle was stolen," he admitted. "Or towed by the police. Either way, our groceries are gone."

She shook her head. "Sheesh. For a super-villain, I was thinking you'd do better than that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Everyone makes mistakes, Evelyn. Even super-villains," he said, glaring at her and spitting out the last word as though it pained him to say it.

Otto began to leave the room. "I'll be leaving momentarily. Is there anything you need?"

"Actually, yeah."

"What do you need?"

She stared at the floor. "Uhm, well..."

"What? Just get on with it and tell me," he said, quickly getting annoyed.

Evelyn looked up and blurted out, "Tampons." She looked extremely humiliated. "I need tam-pons, okay? I ran out last time and had to borrow some. Do you know how embarrassing that is?"

Otto felt his face turn red with embarrassment. "Oh..."

"You forgot, didn't you? Well, believe it or not, I'm not a guy, Uncle Otto."

"Why didn't you ask me before?"

She stared at him. "Well, kind of obvious, isn't it? It's not something I really felt comfortable talking about."

He nodded. "I apologize. From now on remind me to get your... uhm, toiletries for you. It's not a problem." Otto disappeared into his room for a minute, and then left with his usual attire.

Evelyn was left staring at the table. She traced the grain of the wood with her finger. She won-dered what kind of 'skills' Otto was intending on teaching her... And how exactly he intended for her to defend herself...

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Three or four hours later, Evelyn was in her room, listening to loud music and just hanging out, looking out the window and thinking. The door was closed, and everything; the music, the post-ers on her walls, her desk, her stuffed animals… It seemed so surreal now. Nothing seemed real.

Her caretaker was a super-villain. This topped everything bad that could happen to anyone; bro-ken laptops, breaking up with a boyfriend, parent issues…

This was worse than all three put together.

She just didn't understand. Why would this happen to her? First her parents die six months apart from each other… That she would get over eventually. But then she moves in with a mysterious, but friendly enough uncle…

Who is actually the notorious criminal known as Doctor Octopus.

Who is technically a fricking cyborg.

Who was actually, really related to her. She knew he was telling the truth, despite the fact that he was a criminal. After all, she shared the same last name as Otto, and her father had told her him-self that this was her "Uncle Otto."

Her Dad would never had lied to her.

Evelyn hugged one of her larger stuffed animals and stared out the window at the surreal-looking clouds.  She shook her head in disbelief, upset tears running down her face. She didn't know what to do…

Rap  rap rap rap rap rap rap rap rap rap rap...

"Huh?" she said aloud. "Who's there?" she called loudly, hopping off the bed and subconciously wiping the tears off of her face.

The person on the other side of the bedroom door said nothing, but her door opened seemingly by itself. She ran to her doorway. "Hello?"

Evelyn saw a metal, snake-like thing sweep around the corner into the kitchen. What the…? Oh, she thought as she saw the man in control of the tentacle sitting at the table, examining a box sit-ting in front of him.

"Uncle Otto?"

He looked up. "Yes?"

"Please don't do that again."

He shrugged. "I'll try not to." Otto pointed to the shopping bags scattered around the kitchen. "Those are the groceries. I tried to get things I thought you'd like." A pause, and then, "And I got the… uhm, toiletries you requested."

Evelyn began to look through the bags with interest. "If you could put them away, Evelyn…?"

"Yeah, sure." She began putting the groceries away; reaching up and placing items in the worn-out cupboards. "What are you doing?"

"Simply examining the items we shall be using for your 'training,' as you like to call it."

Evelyn, who was standing on a footstool, looked down curiously at what Otto was looking at. Crap. She wasn't wearing her glasses… Instead, she asked, "Ooh, can I see?"

"When you finish putting the groceries away, yes. Not until then."

She grudgingly put the groceries away. She had the last box and was ready to put it in the cup-board. Standing on the stool, she looked at her uncle. Really looked at him. She noticed that his neck was bruised from the fight with Rhino the day before, but she tried to look beyond that.

Who was he? Who was Otto Octavius, really? Was he misunderstood? Was he evil? Or was there something more behind who he presented himself as to the world?

"What are you doing?"

Evelyn snapped out of her reverie. "Huh?"

"Stop staring. It's not only rude, but it breaks my concentration."

"I wasn't staring," she protested.

"Yes, you were. I saw you."

Evelyn said nothing but put away the last grocery item. She approached her uncle warily. "So…" she said. "What's in the box?"

Without a word, he put away the strange metal object he was working on and took out the box. It wasn't really a box more than it was a briefcase, simple and brown, with a sturdy metal handle.

Still not speaking, he fumbled with the clasps a little before opening the briefcase.

Evelyn gasped.

Inside the briefcase was any type of deadly weapon one could think of, with knives, revolvers, pistols, and grenades, just to name a few. Some of the weapons Evelyn recognized. Most, how-ever, she did not. "What is the meaning of this?"

Her uncle rolled his eyes beneath his sunglasses. "If I'm going to teach you how to defend your-self, obviously you're going to have to use weapons of some sort. I can show you some hand-to-hand combat, but you are going to need a weapon or two, girl."

Evelyn said nothing but stared inside the briefcase, awed and horrified at the same time. All these weapons… They killed people. They ended lives and would continue to end lives.

"Choose one, please. Although one of the pistols would not be advisable. We have no reasonable place to shoot it."

She still stared at the mini arsenal inside the suitcase, lost in her thoughts. He waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention. "Hello?!? Choose a weapon, girl."

Evelyn reached into the case, still in a daze as she took out a small knife. Otto looked it over. "A fine choice," he said. "Small enough to fit in your pocket, yet deadly enough to kill if the cir-cumstances require it."

"I'm still not so sure about this, Uncle Otto…"

He rolled his eyes again. "I thought we went over this already. You need to know how to protect yourself." He saw the nervous and worried look on her face. "I won't hurt you. And I can already protect myself well enough without guns and knives. Trust me, there is no way you will be able to hurt me with that."

Since Evelyn didn't answer, he put his coat on, hiding the tentacles from view. "Come with me, Evelyn. I know of a quiet place where we can practice."

To be continued...