"And you would be?" Lacy had asked.
"Pierce. Need you know more?" I answered, remembering my workings at the Industry. Obviously Lacy had remembered too, for her face was still and cold, like a lake at it's freezing point. Lacy's face seemed to become even paler, almost as white as Mr. Slenderman's skin himself, as her eyes seemed to play a scene of Pierce's most diligent work. As Lacy's hands fled to her face, Pierce smiled. "I see, we meet again, mon œuvre d'art."
