A/N: Here is chapter one. Chapter two should be up before the week is over.
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Screaming.
Then, BANG!
Blood.
Death.
How easily one can describe my entire past, present, and future. I look back now and know that I did not expect to become what I did…To become a slave to the Chronos Numbers as a child…To become a killer. My parents betrayed me, sold me to the Chronos Numbers to pay off their own debts.
It was only expected that hatred would poison my heart.
My life wasn't easy. I wasn't supposed to exist. I was just an unnecessary number…A mistake that was erased from record when the Numbers decided that XIV didn't belong. My "father's" mistake. It was his fault I was branded at four years old.
He saw my "potential", even then. He put weapons in a child's hands and turned it into a machine.
My first mission was after I had been branded. It was dangerous, not something you would usually entrust with such a young one as I. But my size and age allowed me to complete it with ease. You wouldn't expect a little kid to pack heat and kill without remorse.
But I made a mistake. My number was seen. Amateurs flooded the Numbers with requests to join the organization. Complaints were made about "child abuse".
I was punished, and shoved into the darkness, where I would continue my work without acknowledgement. I could not go out without taking extra precautions to cover the number branded into my thigh. I wasn't allowed to wear shorts, skirts, or dresses. I hid my scar with a gun holster when on a mission.
One night, I was sent to a residential area on a mission. My assignment was to kidnap a boy that was two or three years older than I. He was an orphan. His parents had been killed.
He had abilities that would, perhaps, be able to surpass mine.
He was interesting to my father.
I hated him. I wanted to go against my orders and kill him on sight. My jealousy made my anger flare. But I completed my mission. After he was retrieved, my fears were confirmed.
I was tossed away like a toy that was no longer interesting.
That boy. He took everything from me. My father praised him and he was given all the attention that I deserved.
He was given the number thirteen. He belonged. In my father's eyes, I would never be a true number. I was a mistake. A leftover. Fourteen would always be fourteen, no matter what. Whatever I did, 13 got the credit. I was just a tool, something to be used until it was no longer needed, all the while watching the others succeed and flourish from the darkness.
But I would show them. Show them that XIV was more than just a tool. Everyone, especially my father, would know my power.
And I would show Train Heartnet what it was like to know what it was like to have everything be ripped away.
He would know how much it hurt.
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A/N: I know, really short again. I'm just trying to transition into the action. I'm looking forward to your reviews! :3