Subject Details Subject Name: Shiranai, Nagori. Containment Date: Jan. 1, 5142 Type: Ame Voleur. -- Class(es): Devorous, Garinjcha. -- Rank: Tyrid. -- Details: Possesses mastery over remote hypnotism and ESP. Utilizes the latter two to ensnare victims into a "fantasy" centered around the victim's(s') subconscious wants and desires. Feeds off of fluctuations in spirit caused by heightened emotions. Discards victim when drained of all spirit. 99.68% fatal. Traps soul in vicinity during feeding process. Process can last anywhere between two months to twenty years. Ages

rapidly when "malnourished." Age unknown.
Last updated status: Classified. See "Geldnum Incident."

Geldnum Incident
Reaper(s): Death.
Details: From Jun. 15th, 5141 through Jan, 1. 5142, traffic of souls had completely halted in the town of Geldnum, Ulster. This is not uncommon; sometimes, people just don't die in a small town. However, every soul that passed through never left, and never died. At first, it was discounted as coincidence; some towns hold celebrations that last a month on end. However, no soul left, and souls continued to steadily enter and remain stationary. As we could not detect an Ame Voleur in the vicinity, Death volunteered to investigate personally. Upon investigation, Death discovered countless sleeping--dying--bodies surrounding the subject. It is unknown why Death decided to apprehend, rather than eliminate.




Personal Account from . . .
Agent: Tierny, Jendro.
Class: Reaper.
Rank: 4. Kahrengen.
Date of Incident: Mar. 29th, 5143.

I knew about her, yes; I knew what she was, and what she could do to a person. But-- well, you know . . . that makes a person more interesting sometimes, when there's some level of danger. Especially with all the rumors circulating about her. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------. * It's hard not to be interested.

I always had it in mind from then on that if I were to ever see her in the halls, or anywhere at headquarters really, that I'd ask to meet her. Really meet her. Sit down and have dinner and just talk for awhile, and one day, I was lucky, or unlucky, enough to pass her by as I was headed down the residence halls to wake up one of my rookies. I practically stopped on a dime and jogged a little to catch up with her. She didn't say or do anything until I requested that she slow down--and she slowed down. Then I asked her to stop because I wanted to ask her something, so she stopped and turned to look at me.

And low and behold, when I introduced myself and asked if I could have some sort of conversation with her over a dinner somewhere, she nodded. She didn't seem surprised or put off or contented or anything. Her expression didn't change at all. It was just blank. I suggested a time and place-- an evening just two days from then --and she nodded, said she'd meet me there (after I suggested it), turned, and walked away.

I say with the utmost sincerity that, while Nagori may be physically attractive, I in no way had impure intentions. I'll be honest here: If I did, something would have come of it.

I dressed semi decently--just a button down shirt and slacks, that sort of thing--and waited for at this local restaurant; I think it's closed by now. Usually restaurants around here last maybe six months, tops. She was on time. A little too close to time, and she was wearing the same thing she was last time I'd seen her, a man's overcoat, dark gray, and tied tight around her waist. It didn't fit her well; it was way too big on her, and she was a little for it, anyways.

As she approached, I called to her-- trying to be friend, "Hey, didn't say it before, but nice coat."

Nagori stopped in her tracks. She just feet from the table. She looked down at the coat as if she didn't even know she was wearing it, and stared at it for the longest time. I don't know if she was confused or curious, but after a few seconds of silence, she started to the table again.

I tried to get her to order something, and it was impossibly difficult. It wasn't until I suggested what I like best, a roast beef sandwich, that she ordered the same thing.

"So . . . Nagori? How do you like it here?" I asked, trying to start the conversation off.

Nagori stared at me. Again, I didn't know if she was confused or curious.

"I mean, I heard where you were last-- a colder place. It's fairly lukewarm here, usually-- I mean, do you like it better where it's . . . colder, or here? Or warmer?"

And again, nothing. She furrowed her brow, though. It was a distinct change in expression, which was kind of a relief. We'd gotten our food by that time and she hadn't said a word yet. Even when she ordered, she'd just nodded her head as I ordered for her.

"I mean-- I like it here, personally. Not too warm, not too cold."

Then, Nagori finally spoke: "I like it here."

She had a really soft voice-- not quite small, or meek, just soft. I could hear her fine, it was just like-- like-- like it was physically impossible for her to ever shout or scream, or change her vocal tone all that much at all. It was an absolute lack of emotion, and that didn't change. For the entirety of the evening I was with her, she never raised or lowered her voice on any occasion.

During the silence, I noticed she hadn't touched her food at all. "Aren't you going to eat?"

Nagori looked down at her plate like it was some sort alien craft, and for several long moments, didn't even blink. Finally, though, she started to eat.

"So-- are from Ulster?"

Nagori paused, set her sandwich down, swallowed her bite, and paused before replying simply: "No."

"Oh. Where are you from?"

This is what gets me to this day. One of many things. She just shook her head, saying, "I don't know."

It was pretty obvious that she's Cizokian, and she spoke Common perfectly. She didn't pause or hesitate excessively; she spoke it just like anyone on the streets of New Xexoria. It was kind of impression. She had the Cizokian accent, though. She might've pronounced everything right, but she sounded the part of an oriental.

"Are you from Cizok?"

"I do not know."

"Well, you speak Common very well."

Rather than replying, she went back to eating.

"Do you know any other languages?"

This time, Nagori finished her sandwich before she said anything else. "Yes."

"How many?"

"I do not know."

"How about a rough guess?"

"Fifty." **

That took me off guard, definitely . . . "E-eh?! Really? That's impressive. So, you've traveled a lot, then?"

Nagori nodded.

"Must've taken awhile to learn that many languages. Just how old are you, anyways?"

"I do not remember."

"Really?" Well, I wouldn't count out amnesia, so I asked, "Why can't you remember anything?"

"I do not know."

"Does it have anything to do with your eye?"

Nagori simply gave me a mildly inquisitive stare.

"Your eye-- your right eye. You have a patch over it. Were you hurt or something? Is that why you can't remember?"

"No."

"Oh. What happened to your eye, then?"

"I do not remember."

"I, uh . . . I see."

She'd spouted out every answer without even a moment of waiting. It was like she had them all memorized somewhere-- like a script. If Jendro asks this, then I do not remember. If Jendro asks that, then I do not know. Or, better: If Jendro asks how many languages I speak, I will use an impossible number. And the worst thing about it wasn't that she might've been trying to just show disinterest in a nice way, as sort of a "subtle" hint that she might not want to be there, it was that I couldn't possibly claim that. If she wasn't interested in being there, she wouldn't have stared at me the whole time, but when I left it open for her to start conversation, she didn't. She didn't ask questions, and every answer she gave me was less than five words each and every time. She never followed up anything, either, and not even in a non-conversationalist way, if that's even a word.

"Well, uh . . . I suppose I should be off, then; I've got to accompany some rookies on field training in fifteen," for once, I actually felt relieved to have that duty ahead of me. When Nagori didn't say anything, I tried one last time to make conversation, even if it'd be a final conversation, "What about you? Do you have anywhere else to be?"

And the way she stared at me . . . it was as if she wasn't even there. She wasn't acknowledging me or my question at all--she was just staring. Finally, after seconds of silence, she shook her head.

"Are you going back to your room?"

No answer. Not even a nod. Frustrated, I took that as a yes.

"Well, I'll walk you back to your room, then. I've got a few minutes to walk that way." And as if on cue Nagori nodded, stood, and lead the way. Once we got to her hall, I said my goodbyes and went the other way.

I don't think she knew where she was. I doubt she even recognized that there were people around her-- or that she was even breathing air. And you know what? I don't think she cared, either. I don't think she cared . . . or cares . . . if she lives or dies, or is locked up or allowed to roam free--and I don't mean that in a, uh, sort of . . . rebellious way. I don't think she cared about existing or not, it was just survival instinct. She doesn't have an emotional level. She barely even has a mental level. She does what's she's told-- like a doll. Like a living, breathing doll. If I'd never suggested that she come eat dinner with me, she would have never left her room. She would have stayed there, probably just lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, until someone told her to get up.

_________________

* Note: Omitted due to classified information.
** Note: Nagori's estimation was false; it has been proven so far that she fluently speaks at least 104 different languages.