Jenner rushed upstairs towards his
room, taking large steps. He shook his head; how could he have been so stupid!
Why did he let his emotions get to him like that? It was the necklace she wore.
But it couldn't have been... it just couldn't! He looked at his hand, the hand
which wounded Wendy's neck. He closed and squeezed his hand so hard that he
felt his own nails in the palm of it. He was angry, not at her, but at himself.
Why did he hurt her? Why didn't he just ASK her where she got the necklace
from? Why did he always have to use violence? Could she be... No... she couldn't
be! The girl was dead! HIS little girl was dead!

He slammed his door when he
finally reached his room. He sat down on a chair behind his desk and he lit a
candle. He opened a small desk-drawer. He took an old picture out of it. It was
a picture of (what used to be) a male rat, a female rat and a baby. The male's
face was cut away, but it clearly had been a male rat. His finger touched the
baby in the picture. ‘You should have been all grown up by now, but I was so
selfish to take your life, even before you were able to live it!' He slammed
his fist on the desk so hard, that the candle stumbled and fell over, right on
top of the picture. Jenner quickly removed the fallen, still burning candle and
saw that his picture, the only picture he owned from his daughter, was almost
completely gone. Burned, like he burned his daughter. ‘I KILLED HER!!!' He
screamed and he started to cry, cry like he never did before. ‘I've killed
you....' He whispered, ‘And now the time has come that I pay for that.'

He got up from his chair and
started walking towards his cupboard. He poured himself a drink. His throat was
sore because of his outburst and he closed his eyes while the liquid eased the
soreness a bit. Nobody knew about his secret. He had never been able to share
his loss with anyone, for HE was the one who caused this misery in the first place.
He never meant for that to happen! The plan was that he would get her to safety
in time and let the others burn. To let his betrayers burn. The way they
deserved to burn.

Instead, he lost the only thing
that mattered; his daughter. He had been too busy to satisfy his revenge by
standing outside and watch what he had done. But that satisfaction didn't last
long, and now he burned the only thing he owned of her, the picture that he had
treasured all his life. He managed to keep the picture a secret even at NIMH.
But he was not only able to keep it from the scientists, but to his once best
friend, too; Nicodemus. Of course he managed to destroy this friendship, too,
when he opposed to the Plan. The Plan that would lead them to nothing but
poverty, hunger and war. Was he the only one willing to stand up to the people,
to NIMH? Was he really the only one who believed that they were strong and
intelligent enough to beat the humans? He had also managed to destroy the
entire Irish Kingdom by himself so why not destroy the human-popularity?! So
what was stopping him from destroying Nicodemus and his followers? Nothing! He
could do this, he didn't need anyone.

He poured himself another drink
and walked towards his desk again. He sat down and in his mind he saw Wendy's
face in front of him again. He saw the same kind of fear in her eyes, fear
which he saw before; the same fear he saw when he showed her his room. He saw
it again today, when he ripped the necklace off her neck. He never meant to
scratch her, or hurt her in any way for that matter. He meant it, when he
offered her a job. He was serious about giving her a more meaningful job. He
liked her, although he never admitted it out loud. Not that he was romantically
interested in her; he just liked her. She had style, in spite of her young age.
The kind of I-don't-give-a-damn-style he enjoyed. He knew she had been through
a lot herself, although he didn't have a clue what she had been through. But he
knew that her past created her in what she was today, the same way as his past
created a monster out of him. He was really disappointed when she rejected his
offer. He was angry, in fact, he was so angry that he decided that she had to
die with the others when the time was right. That time was getting closer and closer,
for the Plan was getting more and more specified.

But still he didn't have a clue how she got that
necklace. For as far as he knew, the necklace only belonged to members of the
Irish Royal Rat Family. She went to London, which is in England, not in
Ireland. She couldn't have found the necklace, somebody must have given it to
her. He sure as hell never saw the necklace around her neck before. Did she
already own it? No, he seriously doubted that. He knew her for ten years
already and he also knew she wasn't a good secret-keeper. She got it in London
and he was going to find out who she got it from.