I am the devil.
Wether the world likes it or not.
I've had tattoos of the devil on my skin since I was a young naive girl.
I was ten when I got my first tattoo.
Now?
I am covered with the art of the devil.
People know me as 'the devils horse'
Why?
I have no idea.
But I do know that I will find the man who killed my father.
*flash back 8 months earlier*
"Jenny where is he?"
She looked down and I could see her tears.
"He's dead."
She sobbed.
No. No...
"He jumped off a building Lana."
"You really think I'm dumb?"
She looked at my confused.
"He didn't jump."
She looked back down.
"No. He didn't. He was pushed."