Flayer looked at Jemma for a long while in total silence, allowing the buzzing of the lights to fill the void.  Then a great shudder ran through his body, slow at first, then growing until it seemed to consume him utterly and a great shrill series of gluttonous, static-filled cries echoed out from his helmet.  As she was new to the prison it would likely take the girl a few moments to realize the cacophony for what is was; laughter.  The Beast had never laughed so forcefully in the presence of a prisoner, never filled the air with such hideous, unbridled mirth.  He banged his fist on the table and clenched it, head shaking back and forth from the sheer hilarity of it.  And then, all at once, he stopped, straightened, and looked her right in the eyes as though nothing had happened.<br/><br/><em>"An interesting hypothesis, in its own way.  You take me for some high-minded pseudo vigilante that unleashes their own brutal form of personal justice upon the guilty, perhaps spurred on by some traumatic event as a youth where my parents were gunned down in an alleyway.  Cute."</em><br/><br/>Flayer slowly got to his feet, pushing the chair in and stalking around to Jemma's back.  As if on cue the lights began to dim, until twilight reigned and the man's form became blurry and insubstantial.  He brought his face right beside her ear, so that all the intricacies of his synthesized voice would be heard.<br/><br/><em>"You knew someone that came here, once.  Someone innocent, like you claim to be.  A loved one, perhaps.  Someone untainted by the sin of Murder.  And, like you almost were, she was ravished and torn to pieces.  The men that used her never asked her name.  They never talked to her.  They simply held her down and violated her, again, and again, and again.  To them she was never a person.  She was a thing.  A lump of warm meat that provided pleasure.  They never <strong>knew</strong> her, like you did.  And by the end, there was nothing left to know.  To escape the pain her mind shattered, until she truly was nothing more than an object.  A tight hole for them to fuck and nothing more."</em><br/><br/>He backed away after a moment, letting the horrible words sink in.<em>"How could I forget?  It is a rare thing for us to receive anyone so young as that.  Justice is blind, and often makes mistakes.  And though <strong>we</strong> know them to be mistakes, we are but slaves to the very laws that send the innocent to Hell.  Luna,"</em>he whispered, his harsh voice softening with something akin to reverence.<br/><br/>The Beast put his hand on the woman's shoulder, and this time the grip was anything but comforting.<em>"I could have stopped them from raping her.  I could have simply said a single word and all of them would have fled like impotent mice.  A declaration from me could have ensured that she remain untouched, forever free of their taint.  But I didn't.  I watched, from afar, as she was defiled and broken into something only barely recognizable as human.  Why?  Why would anyone do such a thing, you ask me."</em><br/><br/>Again he lowered his gaze to her face, fingers digging into her collarbone.<em>"I am an expert on the Human Condition, Miss Jemma.  Every day there are millions across the stars dying right before the eyes of those who have the power to save them, and they do <strong>nothing</strong>.  Out of fear or cruelty, it matters not.  I am called a Beast, because I am looked upon with such fear that others cease to consider me a human being.  But that is a delusion.  I have merely taken the worst qualities of Humanity into myself and perfected them.  I am feared because when they see me, they stare into the Black and find their own eyes staring back at them."</em><br/><br/><em>"Why did I stand aside and watch as the woman you loved was reduced to nothing?  I allowed it to happen, Miss Jemma, because I wanted to see something truly Beautiful die."</em><br/><br/>Flayer straightened up, his spine cracking unpleasantly as the full weight of the confession crashed down upon her.  Then, with a sort of nonchalance that was as tactless as a punch in the jaw, he asked;<em>"Could I offer you a drink?  Water, perhaps?"</em>