A sharp, ringing slap woke up Link with a start. Tears welling in her eyes as her cheek felt like fire, she quickly looks around. She was bound with her hands held above her in some dark, dank dungeon. She could hear the patter of tiny rat feet at a distance and the dripping of a leaky pipe somewhere. And in front of her was the man who just slapped her. He was tall, pale, and middle-aged. He had a few wrinkles on his face and his black hair was edged with gray. His eyes were a steely black, like coal. They seemed almost lifeless, if they hadn't been filled with hate.

"Where am I? Why am I here?" Link asked, her voice only trembling slightly. She gritted her teeth and stared hard into the man's eyes, trying to show no fear.

"You are not the one asking questions tonight. You will not speak unless answering one of my questions." The man said, pausing for a moment to make sure Link understood.

Link repressed a shudder as she thought about how the man's voice was cold and lifeless. She had never met a murderer or anything like that, but she could tell somehow that for this man, killing was second nature and taking her life would be like making tea for afternoon biscuits. Which fit considering he had the appearance of a butler. If not for his eyes, Link would have sworn that he was the butler for some high noble. Feeling a throb on the back of her head, Link tried to remember how she even got here, but was interrupted when the man next spoke.

"Good." He said, a small smile crossing his pale face. "Now, you will tell me everything you know about the mark on the back of your hand. The Triangle."

"What?" Link asked, genuinely confused. The mark on her hand?

The smile quickly disappeared from the man's face and his hand lashed out again, slapping Link across her other cheek. "I asked you a very clear, very simple question. What do you know about the triangular mark on the back of your hand?"

"I-it's a birthmark, I swear! I don't know what you want to hear!" Link said frantically as her other cheek started to burn with pain.

The man stared hard at her, his eyes drilling into hers. After a moment, he would nod, apparently understanding something Link didn't. He would turn on his heel and leave the cell, shutting the bars and locking the door. As he pocketed the key, he said, "Do not blame me for your fate, young Link. Blame the cruel whims of fate that gave you that mark. Because of it, you will rot in this cell for the rest of your natural life, just so you won't interfere in my plans, in this life, or the next."

He turned then, and walked away, nodding at the guard outside the cell as he left. Link could hear his echoing steps as he got further away. Link's fists clenched in anger and frustration and confusion. What the hell was happening? What the hell did the mark on her hand have to do with anything? Slumping in her bindings, she tried to search her memories. Ignoring the pain on the back of her head, Link tried to focus, to remember what had happened that lead her here.