Prologue
My name is Zane, and I have done terrible, terrible things. I'm not the Zane everyone knows; the caring hero. No, I'm the opposite of heroic. I was made of pure evil, which is shown by my red eyes and pale skin. To the rest of the world, I'm known as Bizzaro Zane, but 'Bizzaro' is just a title.
As for the things I've done, I've fought the ninja, and I am one of their greatest threats. During five of our fights, I've sent one to the hospital, nearly killing them. If that wasn't bad enough, I'm also a killer. I've taken the lives of nine innocent people, each one, slowly and painfully. I've destroyed buildings, taken hostages, and separated families.
I was made by Lord Garmadon, and like Zane. Zane the hero that everyone loved and who had hundreds of fangirls. I have his looks, apart from my eyes and skin, and his fighting style. I have no emotion and no will of my own, or at least I shouldn't. Garmadon created me, so he owns me, and can destroy me if he wants. I don't know how, but that's what he tells me. I am to do as he says. If he says fight, I fight. If he says kill, I kill. If he were to tell me to kill myself, I would kill myself, and I won't regret it.
It's not like I've never failed. I have failed, often. When I do, I'm whipped by Cole. Not the Cole that everyone knows as a hero. The Cole that is evil like me, pale skinned, and red-eyed. My back has scars. They will heal someday, hopefully. They won't if I keep getting whipped though. My scars won't heal if I'm whipped again and again, again. The first time the four of us failed was the time we attacked Darkley's. All of us lost our battle, and the ninja no longer knew we were alive. I was the first to be defeated, so I was blamed for the loss. I got three scars that night. I don't know how many scars I have. I don't touch them, because if I do, the pain becomes too much for me to handle. I lost track of the number of them around eleven. Of course, that was five months ago, three months after I was created. I probably have about thirty. Whenever the four of us fail, I'm always blamed, mainly because I'm still weak from being hurt the previous night. It's always my back, so at night I can't sleep on it. Even the softest touch will make it hurt as bad as if I'm being whipped again. I can't stand it, but if I cry, Cole calls me a baby and I'm whipped again.
I've always felt like there's a part of me that is yearning to be free. There's a part that hates this life. There's a part that wants me to escape. There's a part that cheering for the heroes. There's a part that wants to join them. But if I were to tell anyone, I'd be whipped again and again, again. So I push that feeling away, and I force myself to stay subject to Garmadon's power. I force myself to love this life. I force myself not to think about escape. I force myself to cheer for the villains. I force myself to be happy without joining the heroes. Eventually, I succeed in pushing that feeling back, and I'm proud to be evil.
My name is Zane, and I have done terrible, terrible things.
I have no regrets.
(A/N) So there's chapter one. That was the prologue, so it's shorter than the chapters will be. Chapter two will be up in one or two days. Thank you for doingthe competition, . .
Until next time
-Frostbite