A/N: This story takes place after Jennifer's C Ending in Clock Tower 2/Clock Tower US (the one where everyone is killed except Edward, or "Scissorman") You need to have also played the original for the SFC to understand this.

Edward shivered as he felt the doctor's gloved hands examine a minor bruise on his arm.

"You should be just fine. You were so lucky; it was a miracle that we got you out of the ruins when we did. I don't really know anything about the Burroughs Castle but." the doctor trailed off, "I'm sorry, you probably aren't ready to talk about it."

"No, it's fine. My friend Jennifer wanted to go to the Burroughs Castle because she was interested in the old lords of England," replied Edward.

'Friend?' his thoughts rang, 'That's something that little brother would say. he always called his victims his friends.'

"Your friend." the doctor sighed, "I know it might sound unprofessional for me to say this, but I am so sorry about what happened to you."

"It's not your fault," sighed the handsome boy, "I guess my friends should've been more careful when digging through ancient castles." Edward choked back a sob- it was fake, of course, but he was a terribly convincing actor.

'That's another difference between myself and little brother,' he thought, 'My brother was a horrible actor: he was too impulsive, too emotional. When he didn't get what he wanted he would throw a temper tantrum.' The doctor called in one of the nurses and she led him out of the office.

That had been six years ago. Edward, no, Dan was now sixteen. Edward was just his pseudonym, but he had been using it for so long that he had gotten used to it, even fond of it. His real name was Daniel Simon Burroughs, his mother was Mary Tupper Burroughs, and his father was Simon Theodore Burroughs. He hardly thought of his parents, though, and he had tried to move on. Scissorman attacks happened of course, Edward saw to that, but to be perfectly honest he started to grow tired of it. He had taken the image of Scissorman to achieve one thing, and he had achieved it! The death of his beloved, the death of someone that he cared about so much, had been avenged.

He still thought of his brother- the way he would hobble from room to him, his arms swinging at his sides, his crooked spine swaying left and right. To anyone other than the Burroughses he would appear grotesque! From his feet to his waist he appeared like a normal child, but his spine then became hunched over. Though no one would believe it, he had the eyes of an angel: the same eyes that Edward had. They were blue with specks of diamonds that sparkled when filled with tears. Most of the time his lovely eyes were hidden by a revolting mask Edward hated that thing but it was a tradition of his family, so when he came to avenge his brother's death he had taken it. He was the new Scissorman.

But that was in the past! Six years had passed since that time, and yet Edward still would turn when someone mentioned the Scissorman. Maybe he thought, back then, that avenging his brother would somehow bring him back- it was like the spirit of his ancestors telling him to do so, and who was he to disobey? Six years had passed, though, and still no little brother.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Edward snapped back into reality and hit the breaks. The car came screeching to a halt, and he sucked in his breath when he saw that he had almost hit a passing bus.

'My, that would've been a lovely sight. so much carnage.' his morbid mind thought, 'But alas, I would've been taken too.' Edward shrugged it off and waited for his light to turn green.

"Shit! The bus was late!" thought the teenaged boy as he leaped off of the bus and ran through the streets of Romsdalen. He had traveled all the way to Oslo to find someone, but it turned out that his information was outdated, and that the person was now back in Romsdalen. The boy's blonde hair was wild and messy, and his shirttail was only tucked in halfway, the rest of it flying behind him. His pants were a size too big, and so they made flopping sounds as he ran. He looked like your ordinary tall, lean sixteen-year-old, but one that set him apart from the rest was his gorgeous set of eyes. They were blue, with specks of diamonds that sparkled when filled with tears. His way of walking was quite odd: it was actually more like a hobble of someone who hadn't walked in a long time.

'Finally, I'll be able to see you again, big brother!' he thought. His thoughts were interrupted when he ran into a young girl. She yelped, and he rubbed the back of his head.

"Er, sorry about that," he gasped.

"No, it's okay," she replied, "Hey. what's your name? You look like someone that I saw in an old newspaper! Something about the."

"Clock Tower murders?" the teenager finished the sentence, "You must've mistaken me for my twin."

"Maybe, well, thanks!" smiled the girl as she ran off, clutching at her briefcase like she was going to be late for school. She abruptly stopped and turned around, "You didn't tell me your name!"

"Who, me? Oh! I'm Robert!" the boy called. The girl waved before running to her school.

'Well, that is my name,' thought the boy, 'But it's too official. I like to be called Bobby.'