(So this is basically back story right now. The story will pick up in the next two chapters waaaay more XD :D enjoy. I really didn't want to study for tests and go shopping so I started doing this. If you like it, tell me to update it and I will! I will not neglect you guys! 3)

They both adorned their faces with scars - the difference being Mariah's were not caused by war. They might as well have been from her harsh and battle stricken upbringing.

The girl had never known her mother, nor did she want to find out who she was. Mariah never saw the resemblance of anyone else in her except her father. Growing up, the hard man had taken care of her for a while, but soon wanted nothing to do with her. For ten years she had lived with him. She idolized him. Everything he did, Mariah wanted to do.

When she had first noticed the marks on the side of his face, she was startled. During a prolonged absence due to his job, this gave Mariah her opportunity. Taking a spare knife he stashed in his room, she carefully cut a few marks into the side of her face. As she made the last cut, a silhouette appeared. Turning, she dropped the knife amidst her tears. Her father entered trough the threshold and looked down at the bloodied face that greeted him and stared, coldly.

"I wanted to be just like daddy!" The four year old giggled.

"There's other ways to do that..." He picked her up, examining the deep cuts on her cheek.

"Like what?" Mariah had asked, innocently.

"You'll find out when you're older. Now I have to get back to work..." He put her back onto the ground, looking down at her. Slowly, he turned around and walked away.

Mariah was use to this. She knew her way around her home. The men with guns knew who she was and question why she was allowed to live here. As long as her father did his job, no one cared what this little child did.

One of the times someone did mind what this child did was when she was five and a half. During this year of her life, she had become much more adventurous and risky. While she was exploring the grounds one day, she had discovered a balcony. Her young, child eyes could see into the distance and seemingly beyond that. Taking a seat by the edge, the innocence she once possessed was harshly ripped out of her as she saw her father shoot another man. Her brown eyes were now tainted with blood and death as she watched his head become bloodied. The pool of blood trickled around the man as her father walked away. Her eyes never wavered from the corpse.

That evening, her father was working in his office on his computer. Mariah wandered in, watching as he seemed not to notice her.

"Was he a bad man?"

He said nothing, continuing to read information off of the monitor. She encroached upon him, tugging at his leg.

"Was he a bad man?"

"Who..." He mumbled, typing on the keyboard.

"The man you... killed..." She looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"So you saw that..." He glanced down at her, leaning back in his chair.

"Was he dad?"

"Yes," he picked her up, setting her down on the desk to face him, "he wanted to hurt me and you."

"... he did..." She gasped, covering her hands over her mouth.

"When you get older, you will understand what I do is to protect... us..." He paused, looking at her blankly.

"I want to help fight them off!" She exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically.

"You're too young. Now, you can stay if you want but I have work to do..." He went back to looking at the computer screen. She turned to face the screen but could only recognize a few words. It made no sense to her what he was doing, but she just wanted to be loved by him and appreciated. If that meant he had to kill and harm people, she would stand by him.

It was a fairly quiet evening. After that little chat with her father, she had jumped off his desk and nestled into the space beneath it. It was a cozy spot. Even thought they did not say a word to one another, Mariah felt something else from her father... It could have simply been agitation or annoyance, but she could not tell. Hours went by and she sat, watching him. Around seven in the evening, she had managed to fall asleep. For a few hours, she slept soundly.

Abruptly, she was woken up by yelling. It was her father... but who was the other voice...

"I did what was necessary, you know that."

"That's complete BS and you know it!" She heard her father yell, slamming him hand on the desk. As he slammed his fist down, it loosened a hidden compartment within. From the top, a gun fell out of the exposed recess.

"You killed that bastard today and you're complaining to me about BS?!" The man growled, angrily.

"That soldier was a traitor. He was going to give us up to the Ghosts."

Mariah held the cumbersome weapon in her hands, gripping the base. It was a simple 9 mm pistol. Her father must have hidden it in case of emergencies. She had remembered how he used the weapon in practices. Carefully she turned the safety off and loaded the gun. Quietly, she started to move out from under the desk as the shouting got louder and louder. Peeking out from under the desk, she managed to see to foreign man. His black unkept hair accent his yellowed teeth. Mariah saw the man take a lunge at her father with a freshly sharpens knife.

"Die you son of a -"

Without hesitation, Mariah fired a single shot - through his heart. Instantly, the intruder slumped over, lifelessly. With stunned eyes, her father looked at her with a look of intrigue and gratitude.

"He was a bad man..." Mariah replied getting closer to the man she had killed. Looking down into his cold eyes, she did not even flinch. Nothing. Nothing but hatred coursed through her body. Why would anyone want to harm her father? He was doing his job...

But that was then. This was now. The little girl that once idolized him simply robotically complied with his demands. She knew he never loved her. The only thing he felt towards her was admiration. He admired how she had turned out to be just like him. The brown locks of hair and matching brown eyes were a mere reflection of the past.

After she had been separated from her father for two years, it was during one of his raids on a nearby town they had been reunited. A woman - her father's former lover - had stolen her away from him after she killed that man. That night, her mother had managed to snuggle her out of the facility. Mariah did not know why. Almost every spare moment she possessed after that was spent pondering her mothers decision.

On her eighth birthday, he father had raided the village. As the gunfire erupted into an unholy rainstorm, her mother grabbed her by the arm and ran out of their humble abode.

It made no sense, she mused, straining against her mothers grasp, dad isn't a bad man... there must be bad people in this village too...

As her mother had rounded a house, Mariah saw her father leading the assault. A stray bullet grazed against her mothers forearm and caused her to release her grasp on her daughter. Taking this opportunity, she sprinted away from her mother.

"TRAITOR!" She screamed as she closed in the gap between her and her father. Looking at her father, he saw him scanning the side of face. Once their eyes met, the connection was made.

"Don't kill that one." He ordered his men, pointing to his daughter. Turning to see her mother for one last time, a sense of satisfaction flowed through her.

Mom was a bad person... she'll be better off now...

As another shot tore through her throat, a bubble of blood burst from her mouth, tinting her once pale complexion a deep crimson. It flowed like silk across her skin as she sunk to the dirt road, gasping for air. Weakly, her arm reached for her daughter. As the trembling arm ceased, so too did her life.

A squadron of men passed by her, eliminating another threat. Slowly, her father approached her, looking down into her eyes.

"Thank you, dad." Her voice quivered, giving her father a weak hug. He patted her on the back, acknowledging her thanks. Together, they walked. Through the carnage their relationship began anew.