Mordechai Grim sat staring out of the train window, deep in thought. It was to dark to see anything, except for some lights in the distance that quickly dissapeared as the train speeded past the settlements that had popped up along the rail. It had been snowing for 2 weeks straight now, and several of the roads were totally blocked. They were in luck tonight though, the train track had been cleared and from now it was smooth sailing (or rather, training) all the way to New York. The train was several hours late though, he had hoped to be in NY before the sun set, but it was already close to midnight. He shivered, even though the train compartment was warm and cosy. In here they were protected from the snow, the wind and the biting cold, at least untill they arrived. He looked over at Mia, who was sleeping and probably dreaming of a happier place, she had a little smile on her lips.<br/>Even though he'd raised Mia since she was an infant, he'd never once refered to her as his daughter, not even in his thoughts. To do that would be a betrayal to his oldest and dearest friend, Malcolm Daniels, Mia's real father. When he died, Mia had ended up with Mordechai. He had given the baby to a Catholic orphanage, but that hadn't worked out. Mia had ended up in his care again, before her second birthday. He was sure she neither remembered Malcolm or the orphanage. He was all she had ever known, and Mordechai had tried his best, even though he knew in his heart he was the last person that should be allowed to raise a child. He sincerely doubted her childhood has been a happy one, and it broke his heart, it really did. Mordechai was good at a great deal many things, but expressing his emotions or showing affection was clearly out of his reach.<br/>When Mia ended up with him, he had to put his old life on hold. He had tried to fight it, tried to give her away, but in the end he had to accept his responsabilities. He had taken her to a small mountain town in the Catskill mountains, to start a new life and close the door on his old one forever. Or so he'd thought.<br/><br/>Mia wasn't really sleeping at all, she just pretended to be. She loved the silence and her comfortable seat. It might be cold outside, but for now everything was perfect. She opened one eye and sneaked a look on the man she, in her mind at least, refered to as her father. Every time she had called him that he had corrected her with a serious expression on his face. He was telling himself he did it to honor the memory of his dead friend, but that wasn't something Mia understood, at least not when she was younger. Growing up with Mordechai hadn't always been easy. It had never been easy, actually. He made sure she was clothed and fed, and had a roof over her head, but he had been incapable of nurturing her emotionally. It was a lucky thing that she had turned out so well as she had. She was a smart and active girl, but with a great sadness, burried deep under her carefree attitude.<br/>She looked at the old Stoneface. She could never quite figure out how old he was. 50? 60? His raven black hair was more gray than black these days, and he had more lines in his face than he once did, but he still seemed vital. Could he really be 60? He was wearing his favorite color black, as usual. Black jeans, a black shirt, a black coat, though it was neatly folded and placed on the seat next to him at the moment. So was his hat, it was black of course. The only thing not black was his white colar. She had to admit, he looked rather intimidating. His greyish hair, thick, long shaggy sideburns like they used to have in days long gone. The rest of his face didn't look like it had been shaved for several days, and his eyes was ice blue, almost grey, and looked like they could pierce right through you. He sort of made her think of an old wolf, his canines were even a bit elongated. She remembered that she had asked him if he was a werewolf when she was 6 years old, after her imagination had run wild after reading some scary novels. He had stared at her in disbelief for what seemed like a life time, before he burst out in laughter. That was one of the few times she could remember hearing him laughing.<br/><br/>Mordechai had taken a job as a preacher in the mountain town. One day he had just appeared, with a small child in tow, and set up shop in an old, abandoned church, much to the town people's suprise. He had restored the church and the house coming with it in no time, and soon people had started coming to hear him preach. They all agreed he looked alot more interesting than their old priest, who had just retired. He looked like a more old fashioned priest, the kind that would threaten sinners with fire and brimstone. That wasn't really the case, they later found out, but they all agreed he was quite impressive as he towered over them every sunday.<br/>Mordechai had quickly made a life for him and Mia. As soon as she was old enough, she started attending school. Her education was very important to him, and it would be quite acurate to describe their relationship as one between an old teacher and his favored pupil, than father and daughter.<br/><br/>Mia thought back on her life as she sat there with her eyes closed. It hadn't been easy being the preacher's daughter. She had looked forward to starting school, but soon discovered that she didn't fit in there. She didn't seem to have anything in common with the other girls. She didn't even know what a tv was when she started school, and she was shocked to find out that none of the other student's homes even remotly resembled hers. She quickly learned to never speak of what she and Mordechai did at home, because when she did no one would believe her and call her a liar. Her early school years had been very lonely ones.<br/>Education was important to Mordechai, he told her that many times, and he took it upon himself to teach her himself everyday after she came home from school. What he thaught her would not be approved by any school board, however. During the days, Mia learned how do read, write and count at school. During the evenings her father taught her how to shoot, how to work with explosives and how to pick a lock, and many other things he seemed to think was important for a young girl to know. When she got a bit older he signed her up for gymnastics and balet classes, even though she didn't really want to. It would make her agile and gracefull, he said, and that seemed to be important for some reason. It was about that time he started having her work out in the gym he had put up in their basements, and he also taught her boxing, judo and other things she could use to defend herself. Some days she had been so tired she had wept in frustration, but he had urged her on. He wasn't a cruel man, but he was unrelenting and as stuborn as a mountain. He accepted no excuses.<br/>She had been forced to quit her dancing eventually. Her workout at home had made her strong, but that wasn't necesarilly a good thing when it came to ballet. Mordechai told her not to worry, and soon found something to replace the ballet. He found her a teacher who would teach her the Filipino martial arts called Eskrima. The other parents would be appalled to know the preacher's daughter was being taught how to fight with knives and sticks, but it seemed like Mordechai didn't think regular martial arts was enough. One had to wonder what things he thought his ward would have to defend herself against one day.<br/><br/>Mordechai frowned. He could see the glittering lights of New York in the distance, but it would be well past midnight once they got there. That was less than ideal. Mordechai knew, unlike the rest of humanity, just what it was that went bump in the night. He had turned his back on all that once Mia became his responsebility, but here he was, bringing her along with him, right into harms way. But he couldn't have left her behind. He just hoped he had prepared her for the world outside their sleepy town.<br/><br/>One of the first things Mordechai had done when Mia started high school was hiering her a tutor that could learn her all about computers. Mordechai knew nothing about them himself, but he knew where he could find one who did. He hired one of the stereotyphical geeks at her school, a bored, socially awkward boy who only truly came to life around computers. He taught Mia everything he could think of, and Mordechai made damn sure he taught her the things you could do with a computer that wasn't exactly legal. If Mordechai's goal was to turn Mia into something of a hacker, he was well on his way. It was Mia who handled their computer at home, and had helped Mordechai connect to a few dodgy newsgroups and chattrooms. As far as she could tell it had nothing to do with porn or sex, but he still didn't want her to know what he was up to in there. So far she had respected his wishes.<br/><br/>Mordechai looked at the sleeping Mia again, and could almost feel his cold heart melt. He did love her as a daughter, how could he not? Her outer beauty perfectly matched her inner beauty. She had gorgeous blue eyes and long blond hair, almost like silk. She had a very pretty face and a well curved body that was the envy of every girl at school. He guessed a bit of that was thanks to her training, the rest must be good genes. She wasn't very tall, she was actually a bit on the petite side, but she was scrappy. They sometimes sparred against eachother, using magic markers instead of knives. Mordechai used to come out of those fights looking like a crossword puzzle, lines everywhere. She was fast, damn fast, but he still could teach her a thing or two.<br/>His eyes darkened as he remembered this summer, the summer that the outside finally caught up with them. Over the course of 2 weeks, three of the students at Mia's school was found murdered. The town lived in fear as the police seemed incapable of catching the killer. Finally Mia had walked up to Mordechai as he sat reading, asking him to do something. He had been caught of guard, and had been suprised to see the steely determination in her eyes. She looked absolutly convinvced that he would be able to do something, that he would be able to set things right. He had hesitated for a few seconds, but could hardly refuse. She hadn't flinched as he had asked her to help, to play bait. That had made his chest swell with pride, but once again he hadn't been able to find the words and tell her so.<br/><br/>Mia could also remember that night. How she had been running down the deserted paths near her school, with her cheerleader outfit on (god, that had felt corny), her heart beating like a hammer against an anvil. Finally she had stumbled and the monster had been all over her. She called him monster, because she could find no other words that suited him. His face had been distorted into a mockery of a human face. His rage and lust had been visable in his eyes, that had been the scariest of all. Those eyes still haunted her. Just as he was about to pounce on her, her father had stepped out of the mist, she hadn't even known he was there. With one arm around the creep's neck he had plunged a sharpened stake into his chest, stopping him in his tracks. But for some reason he still lived. Mordechai had grabbed him by his hair and dragged him into the mist, the creep still kicking and screaming, weakly. Then everything had gone quiet. When Mordechai returned he simply helped her up and told her it had been sorted. That was the last they ever spoke of it. Mordechai clearly wasn't eager to talk about it, and Mia didn't know where to begin. Had it even happened? How could such things even exist without people knowing of it?<br/><br/>That autumn Mordechai had been even more distant. He sat by the computer alot, always with a worried frown on his face. Finally, come winter, he had told her why. During the last couple of months alot of the old friends he used to chatt with over the net had started dissapearing. This had worried him, she could tell. But now someone he knew, who lived in New York, had gone missing. It seemed he could let it pass no longer. They had boarded up the house and slipped away in the night. By the way her father acted, she wasn't sure he ever intended to come back. Now they were on the train towards the place where her father's friend had gone missing, and she could tell how worried he was. Yet she couldn't help but feel excited. It was almost like an adventure, wasn't it? All her life she had been trapped in that little town, but now she could see New York in the distance, it's lights glittering like a million stars. How could she not be excited?<br/><br/>"So you are not sleeping after all. Good. We are almost there, so make sure you got everything. We don't want to linger once we get there." Her father gave her a quick reasuring smile. But was he reasuring her, or himself?