Medomai sits against the wall of his jail cell, reading through the will again and again.
MEDOMAI, mumbling to himself: A serial killer. He jots a few notes down onto the will. How do you protect someone from a killer? He scowls. Of course, you can't be stuck in a jail cell. Perhaps I'd better get out of here.
Medomai stands and observes the bars, like he's inspecting them. He runs a hand along them, then bends his knees and looks at the lock. Medomai puts his hands in his pockets, looking for something he could pick it with.
His eyebrows raise, and he pulls out a small black box.
MEDOMAI: What is this?
He opens it and brings it closer to his face; inside is a note:
"My love, after you're free, will you marry me?"
Medomai takes the note out, revealing a ring. He doesn't seem to notice that it's a ring for a proposal, and bends it out of shape and picks the lock with it. Fire in his eyes, he runs outside and down the streets, shouting, "Amalthea!" (Trying to protect her, unknowing that she was the woman from before whom he used to love.)