Origin Story

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SUSAN'S POV!

(Sighs!) 'What an exciting life I'm living, and the best of it is that there's no consequences and no responsibility. It may seem unbelievable to some people but in my case, it's the truth. Being alive means enjoying oneself to the fullest and there's no better way to live than to get on the edge.'

Everyone has this something in their life that makes them feel alive. Well, in my case, two things make me feel alive; the first one is killing people.

There's nothing that drives me wild with ecstasy than when I'm sent on a mission to eliminate specific targets. The thrill of killing people doesn't just come from taking them out, it's the faces they make as I choke the life out of them. It's really funny to see the damned look on their faces after they're dead, I would laugh for hours unstop.

Throughout my life, killing is the only thing I've known. I could vividly remember how my killing mania started and it was back when I was a little girl.

Back when I was a kid, I'd always wanted to play with the boys and the girls. That excited, ting but the boys w, are just too much.

Seeing the joy in their faces as they played roughly pumped my heart with so much thrill that I could barely control myself, but when I tried to join, the boys refused, and they began to bully me.

After so many days of bullying and insults, I decided that I'd had enough. One afternoon, the boys were playing with sticks, and I decided to join by force as usual, the boys refused and began to bully me again.

One of the boys who thought he was smart boldly came forward and began to poke me violently with his pointed stick threatening to take out my eyes. As if that wasn't enough the boy started to call me crazy and that was when I snapped.

I swiped his stick forcefully and drove the stick into his own eyes right in front of his friends. They all froze with fear as they saw what happened; even I stood in shock as I noticed the boy wasn't moving.

At that moment, the rest of the boys came after me, trying to hurt me, but just like their dead friend, I killed them all in that very spot.

After the bloody massacre, I stood silently in the middle of dead bodies itching my body endlessly. I wanted to call for help, but the people hanging around the place took to their heels, shouting the word "Witch".

I had no idea what I was doing at the moment, but instead of feeling afraid or scared, I began to laugh as I stared at the faces of the boys I just killed; I laughed so hard that I fell on the ground, rolling on the blood-stained sand. After that, I couldn't remember what happened next but that was my origin story.

Some people asked and wondered where my parents were but that's just another funny thing. I've never known or met them, and I spent my early childhood at an orphanage home with heartless and cruel caretakers.

The orphanage was the first place I made my first kill. The only person I consider a fatherly figure is the Master. He was the one who took care of me and made me become what I am. He gave me all I wanted in life but that also came with a price.

As soon as the Master adopted me he brought me here to this organization where I was trained day and night from a very young age. At that time, I wasn't the only one in training, there were other kids, some were even older than me. We all were trained hard, and the training sessions were very, very difficult. By the end of the day, I was the sole survivor and the only one that survived the training.

Not only was I trained in the art of combat, but I was also trained in how to hack and break codes, and disguise myself in plain sight, taught five different languages which were English, French, Portuguese, Arabic, and Mandarin; and I was also trained in the art of seduction and lovemaking. As if that wasn't enough, I was also experimented on and transformed from ordinary to superordinary.

The Master funded this experiment but the man behind it was Dr. David, also known as the mad scientist. He launched a program called Project Pandora and created a serum to enhance human ability at an unprecedented rate.

This very program was the very thing that killed every last one of those kids except for me. The serum worked on me and it

made me feel different and made me into a whole new different person.

Nobody should get the wrong idea here cause the serum didn't turn me into a Super Soldier, and my body didn't change at all, but what this serum did was accelerate my abilities 10x that of an average human.

I was stronger, faster, and intellectually better than any human on the planet. But despite that, I still have issues with my mental state. People think that I'm mental but it's not true. I may act ridiculously at times but I can't help it. I hear voices in my head and I see weird things that some people might consider an illusion.

Things would have been fine if people minded their manners, but unfortunately, they just won't keep their mouths shut. I hate it when people remind me that I'm mentally ill or something. It drives me berserk with the thrill of killing.

Whenever someone calls me crazy, it's like a remote control commanding me to kill them and I find it very difficult to control or

resist that impulse. So for that reason, the organization hired therapists to help me with my mental health.

I was counseled by Eighteen different therapists, all of which were the best in the country, and none of them could help me with my condition. I happily gunned them all down, and I laughed while doing it.

My actions were definitely out of hand; I had my reasons for doing what I did. First of all, most of the therapists had this serious look on their faces while counseling me; there was no warmth or a little ray of sunshine on their faces; it was as if they were counseling a dead person.

Another annoying thing was they didn't even look at my face to see how I was doing, and their words were somewhat ridiculing. The worst part of all this was they kept mentioning the word "Mental". I hate it when I'm being ridiculed or looked down at. It pisses me off, but I don't easily show my anger; I just camouflage it with laughter and a wicked smile.

Some of the therapists, on the other hand, usually counseled me with a smile, but it wasn't real. It's easy to tell when someone is faking something just by looking at their faces and that's what I did.

Putting up a fake emotion or doing anything fake is the worst possible crime anyone could make cause anything fake is bad news. Apart from the fake smile, the miserable bastards had mocking looks on their faces and I just couldn't take it anymore.

My actions proved it very difficult for the organization to get me a therapist, but they managed to hire another one, and it so happened to be the very last therapist that managed to stay alive, and it was the coming of this therapist that took my life to a whole new level.

Dr. Levi Sanchez was the nineteenth and the last therapist and unlike the others, he was full of warmth and sunshine. When I heard that I was going to get another therapist, I polished my pistol nicely eagerly waiting to use it on the poor bastard. But things didn't go as planned when I laid my eyes on the guy.

The moment I saw him, I got this exciting tingle just like the day I made my first kill; in fact, it was more than that. Unlike the other therapists, Levi was completely different. His dressing was different; his approach was different, and his method of counseling was different. Heck, everything was different about this guy, and before long, I was hooked on him.

Levi wasn't the perfect or sophisticated kind of guy but he was

right. There was something about him that just turned me on but I don't know what it is. Immediately the counseling started, Levi was polite and gentle, his questions were simple and somehow he avoided all of those things that triggered me into killer mode.