Being raised into a life of competition was never easy. We fought with each other playfully, or so we called it. In reality it was just setting up our futures. Every competition was just another chance to show someone else up. We spent our time retracing the worn out path of blood-soaked soil and wishing nothing else ever had to change. We were young and foolish in those days.
What we were, what we stood for; it was never black and white, always muddled shades of gray. We might have tried to make it so simple, but it was never really that easy. Pure innocence and pure evil were only fairy tales concepts that lead the simpleminded. We were above good and evil. (Or so we were trained to think.)
Everybody had friends and everybody had enemies; it was only a part of growing up the way we did. But that type of lifestyle prepared us. We learned to use our friends and manipulate our enemies. We abused what few friendships we really had. We didn't have allies anymore.
We slowly became the people we hated. We learned how to take peoples words and shift them into twisted insults and backhanded compliments. We lied, and coveted, and stole. We lost all qualms about killing, and we gained everything without ever giving something back. Human lives became merely pawns for us.
It is from this place that our story emerges.
Wammy's house.
