This is the most painful day of your life.

You were wearing the same black dress your father bought you, saying he wanted you to wear it on his birthday. But now you're wearing it to his funeral.

It's been a week since his death. You still can't believe it happened. Your dad is a military man, he always prepared you for what could happen. But not that it could happen like this.

He wasn't shot on the battlefield, he wasn't blown up by a grenade. He was just killed. In an abandoned warehouse. The police wouldn't give any details, but by pushing them you were able to find out a few. Eyewitnesses said a masked man came out of the warehouse at the same time. There was foreign blood in your father's mouth that couldn't be identified in any DNA database. The coroner's report says your father bit his attacker on the right hand.

No, he didn't prepare you for that.

As you drove to the funeral, you immediately felt tears welling up, and you tried your best to hold them back. When you got out of the car, you were immediately greeted by sympathetic looks, which made you feel even more pathetic.

The ceremony was quick because you didn't have any relatives left. During your prepared speech, your voice was shaking so much that you had to swallow every 5 seconds.

And then, towards the end of the ceremony, when almost all the guests had finished their speeches, a man suddenly approached you. He looked... strange.

It was hard to describe, it wasn't even his mask. He just had this strange aura about him, like... like something was wrong with him. His voice sounded deep and polite, but then again...it was like he wasn't as depressed as everyone else?

"Allow me to express my condolences. I am a colleague of your father..."

He held out his hand for a handshake and…

Your heart sank into your heels.

Right hand. Wrapped in bandages.