I can't remember the last time I was warm. I can't honestly place a finger on the last moments I felt truly loved. Or even acknowledged. For fourteen years straight I've been completely cut off from maternal love, paternal love, and really love in any nature. I've been told to keep quiet and do my job like a 'good girl' for over a decade. And I have. I've never once complained or disobeyed or misbehaved in any way. I simply carry out my mission and destroy the target I've been assigned to. But, as the years progress, I find myself beginning to fail. Not in killing, it's too natural for me to mess up, it's almost like the most basic of my instincts, I've never once not been able to succeed in bringing death. I'm failing in more important regions. I'm failing at living up to my expectations. I am the heir to the Fina family.

And I am undoubtedly the worst leader in the world. My father already hates me for being a woman and my mother is too busy having an affair with her bodyguard to give me even a slight nod in the right direction. Basically, I'm completely and totally, one hundred percent, no question of it, fucked. And because of that, I'll be killed the second I take my throne. I know everything there is to know about killing, it's my livelihood and my only true passion, but leading and planning and plotting are blank spots in my mind. I don't have any friends in the 'business' due to being cut off from life so I'm really pretty torn up in the expectation department. I'll never be 'Spitfire Fiammetta' like my parents want me to; I'll only ever live to be known as 'Verme' in their eyes. I'll only ever live to be a worm. And, as if I didn't feel bad enough on my own, my parents had legally changed my name to Verme do I would learn my lesson. They say they'll call me Fiametta again when I've earned it, but until then I'll remain Verme.

And it's not just to my parents either, they managed to spread word to the others who hire me and now I'm known as 'Codardo Verme', the Coward Worm. So, instead of doing the brave thing and killing my parents, I simply ran away like the coward worm I am. But I'm such a high breed of cowardice that I didn't just run off to another town, I ran to another world. One where no one would ever find me. I tried to kill myself. I slit my wrists straight down the middle and stuck them underwater. This all would have been fine and dandy, had I not failed. Apparently, I didn't cut deep enough because when I got to the hospital, they stitched me like a quilt and sent me home. I was told that was impossible, but I guess not. So I tried again. This time, I shot myself in the heart. Or so I thought. Apparently, I've got a special condition where my heart is on the other side of my ribcage so I really just have myself a sucking chest wound. So I tried again. Over and over and over again until I discovered I'm invincible. Apparently, I'm Superman and nothing but kryptonite can kill me.

Wouldn't that be a fairytale, huh? You'd think I'd be overjoyed by the fact that I've tried over a hundred things and none of them succeed in destroying my life force. But I'm not. Because the last thing I ever want to do is lead a family. So I'll run. I'll run until my legs break and my feet bleed. I'll run until I die.


A strange little prologue I got inspired to type up last night~ Sort of a writer's block thing-a-majig, though I am hoping to make a story out of it! Review and thanks for reading, mooncalves!

~DNS