The house was quiet, it was messy and smelly, it's not like it was abandoned or that the occupants we're on a trip or dead, no, it's because the people living there don't care, well there was only two people living in this filth and rot, a woman and her 6 year old daughter, they weren't always like this, no they were once a happy family......until the father decided he didn't want to be there after growing tired of his overbearing wife who was unfortunately not right in the head. 

I layed on the ground after another beating at the hands of my mother, it was always like this ever since father left, she would blame everything on me and could never accept the fact that she was the reason why her husband left, but isn't that how everyone is? If something doesn't go the way you want or if something terrible happens you can't help but blame it on someone else because you don't want to take the blame for your own actions? That's how mother was, always saying the same "I hate you! You make my life a living hell! It's your fault! It's your fault!" How many times did I hear that to the point that I started to believe it? It started when I was 6 and it finally stopped when I turned 8, but was that really a good thing? I'll never forget that man, Samuel Reinhard the man who I would call my master, he never hit me, never told me it was my fault, but he did tell me that there is no room for failure and he doesn't have to waist his time with children who can't keep up.

It started with endurance, everyday I was beated, kick, and cut but I felt nothing....at least that's what I thought at first, with time I began to get a thrill from being injured. Pain, it let's you know when you've been hurt, and it reminds you that you are still alive that's why I started to enjoy it.

Next was fighting. 

It wasn't really hard, the real challenge was when you had to disarm and kill, it's hard when you have no weapons yet they have them plus armor but I enjoyed crushing their skulls it was fun watching them twitch and convulse.

Then the barcode.

It hurt at first, the mark was embedded deep in my skin, it took a whole 3 years to heal and 1 year for it to stop stinging, I wasn't a human anymore, I was a labrat, a living test subject that's body was far stronger than a human.

Present

Lena stood by the window looking at the city lights her body was completely bare yet she felt no shame, she didn't mind if someone saw her naked, let them see, it's not like she has anything to hide, her body is average and she was proud of it, there were a few scars here and there but who cares? Her friends never complained and her lover who was still sleeping in bed never cared for the scars because to him it only makes her more beautiful.