If there was one thing Ezmira knew, it was that time didn’t slow, not for anybody. No matter how hard you beg, no matter how much you cry, no matter how much pain you were in, time is and always would be, merciless.

For she knew pain, it was taught to her at a young age.

she experienced it, and was taught to inflict it as well.

“One needs to experience it to do it efficiently,” her mother would whisper, a cool detached look on her face as she wiped a tear from Ezmira’s eyes, “now Mira, where did that hurt the most. Focus on the pain, do you need me to hit you again?”

Ezmira always said no and she always got ignored.

So even when her mother passed from a deadly disease, the scars she lift on Ezmira stayed in tact.

She thought of her mother as slashed open a mans throat, about how much she loved her mother, yet also hated her. She thought about how foolish she was to go after random people with no goal in mind. She would surely get caught.

Yet that didn’t stop her knife from slashing, forever stained with blood, it didn’t stop the maniac laughter that tore itself from her throat.

Her mother made her that, she made what used to be a little girl into a shell of a human. More monster then anything. For that’s what she was, and as soon as her mother died, the monster was set loose.