Loss.
A pretty peculiar thing really.
It makes one desperate.
People assume that those who have nothing to lose are the most dangerous of people.
They have never been more wrong.
For the longest time I had no reason to show people what I was capable of. There was no reason for me to become dangerous, but still somehow people just knew that I was.
I've never used my capability until I had one.
My reason.
People who have something special to them is what makes them dangerous. Be it a thing or a person, whatever the hell it may be if it brings them happiness stay the hell away from it or else be prepared for hell.
We fight for what we love and desire to keep. It's what makes us human.
We fight no matter the price. Take things to the edge just for that one thing no matter the extent.
Even murder.
I have learnt long ago that no one needs to be a sociopath to become a monster.
We all just need a reason.
I watched as she pulled the silver patch from my eye revealing the face I was so used to hiding. I expected her to look at it with loathe. I was used to it but for the first time... I cared.
I cared of what she thought of me.
I dropped my head down, unable to find the strength to look at her disgust. Shame crawling down my spine making my head heavy. However she surprised me once her soft hands hold my cheeks. Lifting my face forcing me to show her my face.
Her fingers traced the the scar which ran through my left eye and up my brow.
Her sable eyes looked at it with such tender. As though the scar was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
She made me feel beautiful.
She made me feel loved.
She loved me.
And she suffered in agony just to love me.
"I lov-"
I was quick to place my hand over her lips.
"Don't say it now" I command. Her big brown eyes look into mine in confusion.
"I want you to say it then..." I told her.
"Then? When then?" She asks, the words come muffled through the palm of my hand.
"When you remember it all... when you remember our past and you truly remember who I am I want you to say it."
She never understood at the time.
Not up until now.
There she stood. Hands bloody and bruised as wounds littered her body like a white canvas meant to be painted. She stood in her torn clothes and worn sneakers, she never liked to dress up.
It only amplified her beauty.
Her blonde hair ruffled and untamed as she stood before him.
The man who had intended to take all that I loved.
Or at this rate the only one I had grown to love. The one thing that brought me happiness.
She turned her head and locked her sable brown eyes with my own in a state of shock. Eyes watering with tears.
She now had understood what I had meant at the time, and just before she held his hand,
'I love you.' She mouthed.
Jack the ripper killed for the murder of his son, Jeffrey Dahmer for his infamous desire for control and Ted bundy killed for the sake of Dominance.
Like I said before.
No one needs to be a sociopath to become a monster.To be a monster we all just need a reason.
And I had one.
Her.
P R O L O U G E||
F I V E Y E A R S A G O||
"It all started with emptiness.
As though my own brain had stolen it's memories from me. My mind so full of emptiness.
I was clueless.
All I could remember was waking up that night on a... sidewalk?.. is that what you call it?
Yeah, I woke up there.
I remembered feeling something wet on my head. It smelled awful. Like this... this coppery scent. Like metal. I remembered it was the color red.
I stood up with difficulty. Walked and wobbled within my steps like a child learning how to walk again. My vision blurred. Sharpening more and more like a newborn learning how to see again. My ears ringing with incoherent noises. As though learning how to hear again.
I remember not knowing a lot of words. Not knowing a lot of things either. Just as I walked and looked at the things around me new words started to scatter into my mind. I looked up at the light which came from the pole which was hung in the roads.
Streetlights...
I looked at the flickering lights of a rusted worn out thing on four wheels.
Car...
I stared at my bare feet which stood over a flat grey and dirty surface.
Road...
I was learning new words like a child again.
I felt like one. A feeble minded and lost child who did not know what to do.
A void of simply nothing placed itself into my mind. Like a shadow, hiding all my source of memories from the glimmer of the light. Walking without knowing, hearing without knowing. Learning without knowing.
Not knowing anything without even knowing what exactly I needed to know.
My head hurt, I remember. Without remembering why it hurt.
Not remembering why I knew nothing."
The young girl who was no younger than the age of 14 stopped fiddling with her pale fingers and lifted her head. Looking at the man who had found her.
"And... that's how you found me I guess" she finished.
The boy stared at her. Then looked at the wound which was dried in its red blood on her head, his eyes peered down her body then back into her sable brown eyes.
He placed both hands on his thighs with a *smack!* before he stood up.
"Look, lil' girl I ain't got your memories. If you want them you need surgery go to a doctor or someone who can actually help you"
However the young clueless girl also did not know what that was either. She did not know what a doctor was.
The boy who understood had noticed. Hence explaining it to her.
"Where do I find one?" She asked him.
The man sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose as though she was some kind of problem that fell on his head.
"To have a doctor that can actually do shit you need money. I ain't got no money. If you looking for it I can't give it to you." The man told her.
She gave him a blank stare.
He then explained what money was.
The man then focused on the chain around the girls neck. He crouched towards her height and looked at her in the eye with caution.
"May I?" He asked.
The young girl only stared at her for a couple of seconds before she nodded her head once.
The nice man touched the chain which held a golden locket which was in shape of a heart. In the middle of the heart was a smaller one in a shape of a black diamond stone.
It glimmered from underneath the flickering lights of the dull room.
"You could sell this. It'd make you good profit"
Ana stared at the locket before she quickly retrieved it out of the mans hold, clasping it around a clenched fist hiding it.
She shook her head.
"It is the only thing I have. It might help me find my memories" Ana told him.
The man took a step back hands up in the air to show that he meant no harm.
"A-right, then I don't know how t'help you"
It was then the poor girl realized how hopeless her case was. He noticed this too. Pitying the girl he purses his dark lips as he came up with an idea.
One that could easily give her the money she needed.
But it was a dangerous task.
"But I know someone who can..."
T H E P R E S E N T||
She walked into the ring as she raised her hand to shield her eyes as they adjusted to the blinding lights which were set on her frame.
She was sure whoever was controlling those lights intended to burn her alive.
She heard the chants of the people who were eager to see blood drip from another's wound. She hears their savage roars and demand for a fight, any source of entertainment that could satisfy their lust for chaos and ravage.
Her fingers fiddled with the chain on her neck, a habit made when nervous.
Luciano Sin who created the ring years ago smirked staring at his most prized possession. His greatest fighter. Forcing the once innocent and naive girl into a fierce and merciless monster.
Or tried to at least.
Of course his attempt had failed greatly but still, Anastasia walked inside the ring waiting for her opponent. She bent her knees in a steady ready stance, her hands balled to fists ready for another savage beat-down.
"Now!" Yelled the host trying to calm the millions of witnesses.
"Welcome again!" He called.
"I presume you all are exited for the 99th fight of this year!"
The crowed went wild once hearing his words.
"The winner to this fight will be the promoted to the last fight of the year against their last opponent, and will win the reward as promised!"
Luciano tossed the coin to the air as he caught it in his one hand as he heard the two teenager boys speak from the crowd.
"I don't understand-" Said the first one.
"It's quite simple really, every year this place has an annual beat down. People fight each other similarly to WWE, each winner of the fight is ranked to go to a more challenging fight and the more challenging the win the more money is earned.
Each match is at least three-minute each, a total of up to 9 to 12 rounds. Each boxer enters into the ring from their assigned corners at the beginning of each round and must cease fighting and return to their corner at the signaled end of each round." His friend had explained.
"But then what happens after that?"
"Then the winner to to that three minute round is promoted to the next fight on the next week. Each fight gets more challenging than the other since each promoted fighter is more trained than the other" He continued to explain. "Each year consists of 100 matches where the last two components remaining fight each other"
"And which match is this match?" He had asked his friend.
"This is the last round before the final show-down tonight"
The young and confused boy stared at the fighting ring with wide and fascinated eyes as he stared at a slim young girl who stood in the fighting ring against a meaty and bulky man that seemed to be ten times the size of her.
"You mean she survived ninety-nine rounds?" The boy had asked in disbelief. His friend nods his head once.
"Is she professionally trained?" He asks.
The boys friend shook his head.
"No, we call her lucky."
The boy blinked in confusion.
"Why?" He had asked.
"You will see. Now shut up will you? The match is starting" He said as he wrapped his arm around his shorter friends shoulder.
"And so it begins!" The host had called.
"The 99th match begins in 3...."
The crowd began to count with him.
"2..."
"1...!
The crowd went wild. Yelling and cheering like savage and blood-thirsty monsters. The poorest of the poor, came to watch such a fight. Betting on money to win pennies and nickels. As did the richest of the rich to bet on hundreds and even millions. Some won, as some had lost but it was good business.
The bulky man grinned smugly at Anastasia judging her by her Five foot Six size thinking that she'd be an easy win. Anastasia never faltered. Not intimidated by the slightest.
Even though she stood in the fighting ring where the bloodiest of blood baths had bathed still she had a slight spark of innocence in her eyes, but intimidation seemed foreign to her.
She stared up at her opponent. Tilting her head to the side. Focusing and studying his movements.
'Bear-like' She thought.
Then like a savage animal he was he lunged for the first punch, but the young girl who remained ignorant to the beast in front of her found that her shoe lace was untied. Frowning, she bent to untie the lace having the Bulky man miss his punch , surprised at her agility the bulky man tripped over her crouched figure and fell face first onto the ground.
Anastasia's doe brown eyes widened once seeing the large man fall, and quickly tied the lace. Quickly taking her chance she scrambled up her feet and climbed over him like a squirrel and hurriedly touched the back of his neck pressing on his pulse as trained.
The off button' She called it.
Screeching in anger the man fell as Anastasia straddled over him pinning him by the neck.
3...
2...
1...
"And Lucky had won. Once again!" The host yelled out. The crowd cheered around the fighting ring. The richest of family mobsters stared in adoration the little girl. Anastasia stared at her crowd.
Smiling sweetly.
Rather too sweetly for such a poisonous and bitter crowd.
She then turned to stare at her master.
Luciano gleamed back with proud eyes nodding once at her. Anastasia smiled. Turning and ready to leave.
"And that is why we call her lucky." The teenager had told his gob-smacked friend placing his hand under his chin and shutting his mouth.
The young girl who had won by luck instead of hard work fascinated the crowd on her unpredictable ways. Some wondered how she even stood on the ring, some even wondered just how she had managed to win all this time.
It was luck, or so they called it.
But perhaps it was fate.
Maybe this girl was not lucky at all, but is only surviving like a turkey only to be sent to a butchers shop for a Christmas meal.