-Prologue-
Well, this is my first story. I'm sorry if the first part is a little gruesome. If you don't want to read it that's okay. I tried not to make it too explicit but you can skip to chapter 1 if you want! I decided to do this on a whim. Feedback is always appreciated!
"This is what I get for trusting you!" I choked out a scream as I struggled to grasp onto her shivering arms.
"There was no other way," she whispered, squirming away from my clutch.
Somewhere in the background, coins clinked as they changed hands. She promised she would never do this. That she could overcome her addiction. That we could be happy again.
I struggled to free myself from my captor's grip but eventually surrendered. I went limp in the arms of this stranger, who chuckled and slung me over their shoulder like I weighed nothing - which I almost did. I was already half-starved from never having enough to eat. My mother turned away from me, her body shaking from withdrawal. I was shackled up to some cold chains on a damp floor.
"Why?" I mumbled, my mind shutting down. Staring at nothing, my eyes glazed over. "Why?"
A sizzling sound came from somewhere far off; I didn't realize what it was until the searing hot metal made contact with my skin. I screamed, tears streaming down my face. Half from pain, half from agony that the woman I loved - that I had trusted - betrayed me.
Everyone betrays you in the end. He did unspeakable things to me; torturing me each and every day until I was at the brink of death. Everyone is evil. There is no good in the world. My constant companions became the crusted blood that dried on my body, the shackles on my ankles, and the bitter iron caging my hands.
"You're worthless. You shouldn't have been born," he would snarl in my ear.
He spitted things that rattled around in my head. It went on so long that I began to believe in them. How long will this go on for? I learned to harden myself, realizing that my owner took pleasure in hearing me cry and scream from the pain. They get pleasure from a reaction. I eventually stopped talking, no longer screaming. There were always tears from the agony. No one loves you. Your own mother didn't love you.
For a long while, whenever he left, I was left with silence. Punctuated by my moving around and the clinking of my chains, there was nothing else. There was nothing. Except…
There was shouting from somewhere far away. Noises. My owner cursed as someone banged on a dark door. Freedom, so far away. Hope, out of reach. So-called "good" coming to destroy evil. I smirked in my mind. My owner pulled out a gun and frowned as he shot me a couple of times, miffed at the prospect of losing his plaything. Blood staining my hands and stomach, eyes wide open as I stared at the dark, damp ceiling. There was no pain to it. That was something that had hardened my heart long ago. I was never loved. A tear rolled down the side of my face and dropped to the ground. My home of many years. A damp cellar somewhere that only God knows.