There was something to be said about crossroads. Something to be said about the grace and nature of gift and talent. Five years old and far too mature for her age. It was a beginning. The Boss had heard of the little orphan girl that could raise the dead and could sight down a gun if need be and let the bullets go without remorse.
Now she stood there, panther dark eyes terrified as she was tossed into what felt like a guardian battle ground admist all the other children that the Boss had taken in to 'train.' There was only a few girls and they were sneering creatures, rough around the edges in comparison to the soft delicate figure of Remenis. The rest were boys. Boys of all ages and the majority with hungry, wild eyes.
One such boy came to her with the nature of a ring leader. A Boss in the making. There was the nature of a question for fight or flight when it came to her at that moment. Like them all she had been given an alias. No longer was she the girl that she used to be. Now Remenis Crux. Remember the Cross, the Boss had said once he laid eyes on her. The kneeling figure of a broken girl beneath the shattered remains of a cemetary cross with a smoking gun still in her hand with tears that streamed down her face.
"Well now if it isn't fresh meat."
His voice was a whip through her soul and she stared at him with wild eyes. She would not flee. Holding her ground as fingers curled into fists.
"You'll learn, girl, what it is to be broken..."
He couldn't be anymore then a teenager and yet his voice seemed to know all the cruel violence and hatred of the world. His fist was curling in her hair and pulling her to her feet before she could even scream. There was no way to fight the living when there were no weapons to fight with. She would not fight as a girl. No scratches no screams no tears.
None of it but she didn't know what to do. She would not be Broken. A sound like agony broke through her lips as she waited for the first blow to be struck. She flinched in anticipation but it never fell upon her flesh.
There was a wall of muscle between her and the other boy. He couldn't be anymore then five years older and yet the boy was strong, marked with muscles of a life that raised one to fight.
His voice was gravel and ice that poured through her.
"Leave her alone"
It was enough. There was no moment to say thank you. The words were enough. He stepped away from her and the one that threatened to break her. His eyes were frozen and yet the edges held a shadow of tenderness for the small girl.
He walked away and perhaps as she watched him leave, she felt broken for an entire different reason. A piece of her went away and followed the one she would come to know as Blaque.
Now she stood there, panther dark eyes terrified as she was tossed into what felt like a guardian battle ground admist all the other children that the Boss had taken in to 'train.' There was only a few girls and they were sneering creatures, rough around the edges in comparison to the soft delicate figure of Remenis. The rest were boys. Boys of all ages and the majority with hungry, wild eyes.
One such boy came to her with the nature of a ring leader. A Boss in the making. There was the nature of a question for fight or flight when it came to her at that moment. Like them all she had been given an alias. No longer was she the girl that she used to be. Now Remenis Crux. Remember the Cross, the Boss had said once he laid eyes on her. The kneeling figure of a broken girl beneath the shattered remains of a cemetary cross with a smoking gun still in her hand with tears that streamed down her face.
"Well now if it isn't fresh meat."
His voice was a whip through her soul and she stared at him with wild eyes. She would not flee. Holding her ground as fingers curled into fists.
"You'll learn, girl, what it is to be broken..."
He couldn't be anymore then a teenager and yet his voice seemed to know all the cruel violence and hatred of the world. His fist was curling in her hair and pulling her to her feet before she could even scream. There was no way to fight the living when there were no weapons to fight with. She would not fight as a girl. No scratches no screams no tears.
None of it but she didn't know what to do. She would not be Broken. A sound like agony broke through her lips as she waited for the first blow to be struck. She flinched in anticipation but it never fell upon her flesh.
There was a wall of muscle between her and the other boy. He couldn't be anymore then five years older and yet the boy was strong, marked with muscles of a life that raised one to fight.
His voice was gravel and ice that poured through her.
"Leave her alone"
It was enough. There was no moment to say thank you. The words were enough. He stepped away from her and the one that threatened to break her. His eyes were frozen and yet the edges held a shadow of tenderness for the small girl.
He walked away and perhaps as she watched him leave, she felt broken for an entire different reason. A piece of her went away and followed the one she would come to know as Blaque.