Hey there, so this chapter is a little.. gruesome, it was hard for me to write because I am not really that kind of person, but it was important. I didn't intend on it happening like this however the story seems to be writing itself. Thanks for the reviews :) Once again, if I make any mistakes, let me know. Have fun reading :D

Chapter 3:

I was running. Making my legs carry me faster, hearing their shouts behind me. I pushed my new body faster, flying through the trees, he was right behind me, but who was he? I wanted to stop and look but I couldn't, my body kept taking me faster and faster, fleeing the sounds coming from behind. I heard a scream; I skidded to a halt, turning to see his body falling to the ground. A dart had lodged itself in his neck as I head the yells getting closer. I picked up his limp body, and started to run again, I tried to go faster but my legs wouldn't respond. Suddenly the ground dropped from underneath me and we were falling.

I woke with a start, the dream lingered in my thoughts. What did it mean? I rubbed my eyes, yawning as I looked over to Will's side of the bed. He was gone; I panicked for a moment before spotting the note on the bedside table. I picked it up, reading its content,

Blake,

I went out hunting, will be home soon. Do not leave the house,

Will

I rolled my eyes, was he really telling me not to leave the house? I sighed, walking over towards the walk in closet. I had never been in there, opening the door; I fumbled for the light switch before finding it and turning it on. I gazed at the shelves of clothes, hoping to find something I could wear. I rummaged through three draws, before my hand hit something hard. Pulling out a small black box, I looked at it. It was a small and leather with a latch on one side; curiosity got the better of me as I opened it. A small pendant was inside that I recognized instantly. It was my fathers; I flung the box out of my hand, watching as it slid along the floor. I half ran, half walked out of the room as tears poured down my cheeks, memories of my last day with them flashed before my eyes. I dropped down against the far wall, resting my head against my knees, shutting my eyes.

I was back in my room, lying on my bed looking up at the roof, listening to my parents fighting once again. I knew what would be coming, my mother would leave again and my father would come and beat me, saying it was my fault. I heard the old screen door slam, and watched my mother storm down the street. I flew up as I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I ran for my closet, hiding there silently backing towards the invisible door, which only I knew was there. I reached it just as my father reached my room. I slipped behind it, praying to any god that he didn't hear it shut. I heard him rummaging around my room, looking for me. Hearing him call my name just made my fear grow, he approached the closet and I peeked through the tiny whole that had formed in the door. Suddenly the doors flew open and I flinched, even though I knew he couldn't see me. I crawled backwards. Hiding my head in my knee's letting my long black hair fall over my eyes. I didn't know why they hated me, what I had ever done for them to beat me so constantly. I was our village's best fighters and yet I never went against my parents, I never fought back. They used to tell me I was a mistake, now they just told me I slowed them down, that I would get them killed.

After sitting there for hours, I finally got the courage to come out. I walked down the stairs to see my mum, blood dripping down her arm. They stopped their conversation when I walked in, getting up and walking over to me.

"You useless oaf" my dad started, coming at me, hands balled into fists. I was terrified, I hadn't done anything. He seemed to see the fear and confusion in my eyes,

"You don't even know what you did," he laughed to himself, his face appalled as he pushed me to the floor. I looked at him, not wanting to show fear but knowing my face deceived me. He laughed, spitting in my face, "If you had of gone into town instead of your mother, she wouldn't have been stabbed." I looked shocked, my mother had been stabbed, I looked up at her. Her arm bandaged now, her face furious. She was coming at me as well.

"You slow us down, you mistake." I didn't know why they hated me; I didn't do anything to them. I trained as a fighter my whole life, for them. She glared at me more as I backed away from their approach.

"They are coming, not even 24 hours away. You are going to be our death," my father said, pulling out a knife and handing it to my mum. She walked at me faster; I pleaded her with my eyes as she grabbed my arms,

"Please," I pleaded, "NO!" was all I got out before she slashed the knife down my arm, following the vein from my elbow to my wrist.

"I want you dead, thing." She told me before slashing my other arm. I tried to fight back, biting her hand. She went to slap me away, but with the knife in her hand she slashed open my forehead. I screamed in pain, letting out the tears and yelps, which I had been holding in. She laughed, dropping the knife and walking away from my bleeding body. Black spots clouded my vision as I lay there dying.

I got pulled back from my memories by a tapping on my shoulder, looking up through tear drenched eyes to see Will towering over me. I lowered my head, ashamed, wiping the tears away from my eyes, hoping he hadn't seen my tears. Tears were a weakness, a weakness that I couldn't be seen to have. I felt him sit down beside me, his hand gently rubbed my back and tingles followed it as it went. These tingles worried me and he seemed to see it cross my face.

"What's wrong?" he asked soothingly. I met his questioning gaze, sighing.

"I was just remembering my parents, after finding the pendant in that closet." I motioned my head towards the room I had run out of. Questions ran through my head, but one stood out more than the others. "How did you get that anyway?" I asked him, looking at his face for answers. He sighed looking over at me; he was so close I could almost feel his breath on my face.

"I didn't get it. It was here when we got here." I looked at him, wondering how my father's pendant could have gotten to this cottage.

"Why would it be here then?" I asked, my eyes watching every emotion that played on his face. He opened his mouth to speak but something interrupted him. I heard the front door opening and low voices come into the house. Will jumped up, pulling me up with him, he made his way towards the bedroom door, keeping me shielded behind him. We peeked through and a low gasp came out of my mouth, my eyes widening. Standing in the living room were my parents. I ducked out from behind Will, flinging the door open.

"YOU!" I screeched, lunging at my mother and punching her in the face. The look on her face let me know that she didn't even know what hit her. I turned to see my fathers shocked expression. I heard my mother whimper and I turned around, seeing blood dripping from her nose. Her eyes widened as she took in my new appearance.

"You're meant to be dead." She said her eyes wide with fear. I looked like a perfect and I knew how to fight like one. I heard my dad grunt; I quickly turned around to see him flying at me with a knife in hand. Will jumped on him before I knew what happened, flinging my father to the ground in one easy hit. He was unconscious, which I was pleased about. Rage engulfed my body as I glared furiously down at my mother. White clouded my vision as I bent down to her, knife in my hand.

"How are you alive?" she asked to herself more than anything. I laughed at her, seeing her look back up at me, terror washed over her face as she saw my face. I caught my reflection my eyes, my eyes blazing, terrifying. I didn't care, she tried to kill me. She had beaten me and tortured me her whole life, she deserved this. I heard Will come up next to me, his arm on my shoulder, tingles erupting down my arm.

"You don't want to do this," he said, trying to calm me down. I pinned my mother down harder, rage clouded my mind, I knew I had to do this.

"Will," I hissed through my teeth, "leave." His eyes widened with shock, before he tried to plead me once more. Trying to calm me down, "GO!" I screamed, not wanting him to suffer. He got up and walked out of the room. We were alone. I glared down at my mother, her face filled with fear as I gazed at her face, a smile dancing its way across my face. I looked like a monster; I felt like a monster, I knew in that moment, I was a monster. But I didn't care, this women was the monster, a monster that needed to pay. I lowered my knife towards her elbow, to the same place where she had cut me.

"Please don't," she begged me, sweat poured down her face. I laughed again; the monster had taken over the real me. A voice in the back of my head screamed at me to stop, telling me I would regret this. Begging me to put the knife down but the monster ignored it.

"Why?" I hissed, watching her eyes grow wider again. "You still cut me when I was begging you not to, my own mother hated me my whole life. You left me bleeding, dying on the floor. Laughing as you left me behind to die." I snarled, making the voice in the back of my head scream louder. I lowered the knife to arm, cutting deep, down to her wrist. She screamed out in pain, tears pouring down her face as she yelped.

"Now you know how I felt, being tortured by one of your own family." I said, cutting her other arm. The voice in the back of my head screeched, the real me screeched, but the monster was too strong, silencing the small voice once again. My mother became unconscious, lying in a bleeding mess on the floor. Tears fell down my cheeks but I didn't feel any grief for her dying body. I heard something bang behind me; I instantly flung my body around to see my father getting up off the floor. He saw my mother's limp body, rage flashed behind his eyes.

"What have you DONE!" he screamed the last word as loud as he could, leaping at me. I shoved the knife up to protect me. Feeling it sink into his chest, the voice in the back of my head, finally overpowered the monster and I collapsed on the floor in tears. What had I done? I was no better than them. I had killed them. Will entered the room, sweeping me up into his arms; a large bag was slung over his back. I felt him start running but I didn't care. I shoved my face into his chest, letting the tears fall freely.

We arrived at another cottage a few hours later. Will had been running faster than the wind, yet he wasn't tired. I wasn't conscious of anything, my brain had shutdown. I let him carry me into the bedroom, feeling him gently lay me on a bed. The tingles had been alive through my body the whole time I was in his arms, yet I still had no idea of what they meant. I felt my body drifting off to sleep, but willed it to stay awake. I got up, deciding I should ask Will where we were. Getting up off the bed, I found the door and walked out into an open room. This cottage seemed bigger than the last one. The living area had a large fireplace in the centre of the room, large plush sofas surrounded it and with small coffee tables separating each one. I saw Will sitting on the far couch, a book in hand. I walked over and flopped down next to him, looking up into his dark green eyes. He raised one eyebrow questionably, his eyes boring into mine.

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. "What happened to me?" I asked, looking at him expectantly.

"I don't know he said. You just flipped; I have never seen anyone do that before. It was like you were you, but not you." I nodded, leaning my head against his shoulder. I don't know how long we sat like that, in silence. Thoughts ran through my brain as I tried to remember what had happened. I remembered the fear in their eyes, my true self taken over by a revenge seeking thing. Screaming at it to stop but my attempts failing,

"Why did you save me," I mumbled softly, "I am a monster." Tears ran down my cheeks but I quickly wiped them away, hoping he wouldn't see. His shoulders had tensed up; his whole body had become stiff. "Please tell me," I begged, hoping I would finally get my answer. I felt him sigh, his muscles relaxing slowly.

"When I jumped through that window," he started as I curled more into his shoulder, feeling the tingles wave through my body. "I was ready to kill, but then I saw you, terrified, gashes down your arms. I... I couldn't do it. I don't know what made me stop; you looked so small and frail. I didn't know what was happening, I just had to save you, get you out of there. I didn't care if I died, I knew you were special, I knew that I.." he trailed off, staring out the large window on the other side of the room. I looked up at him; curiosity pulsed its way through my body.

"You knew what?" I prompted him, looking up from his shoulder with curious eyes, one eyebrow raised.

"It doesn't matter." He said, looking away from my gaze. Since when was he so stubborn?

"Tell me," I said, grabbing his chin and turning it towards me. The action shocked him and myself, I quickly took my hand away from his face, tingles sparking in my fingertips. I looked away from him, feeling my cheeks go bright red. "Please," I begged, trying the same tone that got him to open up last time. He sighed, staring out the window once more.

"I knew you were different." My eyes widened, thoughts blazed through my head.

"D.. Different?" I stuttered out, "how?" I rested my head against his shoulder again as I looked up through my thick eyelashes. He looked down at my arm, taking my wrist in his hand. Turning it over, to reveal my star scar, I looked at him curiously. "What about my scar?" He place his right arm next to mine, there on his wrist was the same scar as mine. My eyes widened as I scrambled back away from him.

"Is this a sick joke? Where did you get that scar?" I stared at him, trying to collect my thoughts as they scrambled around my head.

"It is a burn the council gives people when they are born. Each burn determines what field you will work in. They star means you are a warrior, born to fight." I looked up at his face, his eyes unreadable. My thoughts were in a jumble, giving me a headache.

"Does.. does this mean I am a .. a" I couldn't say it, just the thought of the word caused a fire in my stomach and fear to run through my veins.

"A perfect, Yes." He said, answering my unfinished question. I couldn't believe this, I was not a perfect, I had lived with my parents my entire life, and wouldn't they have known if I was a perfect? It suddenly clicked in, the reason why they had hated me, why they beat me with no reason, why they tried to kill me. I was a perfect and they were scared of me. I was a better fighter then anyone in my village because I was born to be a warrior.

"What does this mean then?" I asked him, looking down at my hands.

"It means that you are the stolen child."

"The what?" I asked him, looking up at his frowning face.

"The stolen child was rumoured to be a 'chosen one.' They were injected at birth with a drug which would make them a soulless killer. And if that is you, if the creator found out you had been found, he would come to find you." I looked at him, hearing the information he gave me. It made sense to me, the way I acted when, when killing my own parents.

"So, I am a monster?" I asked, hearing my voice crack as I said it. I desperately tried to hold back the tears but it failed, feeling the tears fall down my cheeks.

"No, you're not a monster." He said, trying to sooth me.

"So what, when I heartlessly murdered my parents, I wasn't a monster?" I looked at him, feeling anger rise in my chest. It quickly disappeared when I remembered what happened last time I got to angry.

"No!" He said, "You're not a monster." I looked up at him; his eyes showed he truly believed what he said.

"But I killed my parents, and I didn't even shed a tear."

"You did afterwards, you cried for hours." He looked down at me, his hand coming up and wiping away the loose tear falling down my cheek, I looked at him shocked. "Sorry," he mumbled before quickly removing his hand from my face. The tingles buzzed where his hand had touched my face and I was still confused as to why. A wave of red flushed over my cheeks and he looked at me curiously.

"When I um, when I touch you, does it.. tingle?" I asked. My face must've been tomato red by the time I finished the question, I didn't want to make eye contact but I felt his hand on my chin again, forcing my face to look at him. I tried to keep my eyes from looking at him, but it was too hard. I peeked up at his perfect face, his green eyes smouldering with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. He simply nodded, before letting my chin go, my face going redder than ever before. My heart started beating faster and I knew he would be able to hear it. I heard a slight chuckle escape from next to me. I got up off the couch, walking away from him, striding towards what I hoped was the door to bedroom. I opened it, getting lucky; I walked into the bedroom, turning around quickly sticking my head through the tiny opening.

"Don't laugh at me." I said, attempting to sound angry, I knew it didn't work, even I could hear the joking tone through my sternness. His smile got wider as I pulled my head back, slamming the door for effect. I walked over to the bed, suddenly exhausted. I didn't bother to shower; I just flopped on the bed, falling to sleep almost instantly.