? ゚マᄊ?
My name does not matter. I have had many over the millennials I have lived. I was a soldier. I could kill without a second thought and feel nothing. I was emotionless, thoughtless, and heartless. I always could carry out my command. I was the perfect soldier and for that, I was the perfect monster.
I was born with a cure. I was born a slave and doomed to that way for eternity. I was alone. I born this way. I learned to not feel at a young age. I was cured to be this monster. I accepted my fate and learned to hate myself but then she was given my mark.
The little girl with brown wavy hair and golden brown eyes, my mistress. My mistress did not ask me to kill nor did she want me to be the perfect soldier. She did not ask for kingdoms or power. She did not demand beauty or wealth. All my mistress wanted was for food and protection. My mistress wants me to be myself. The only problem is I do not know who I am.
