Chrollo Imagines

Power Hungry

Life was never an easy thing. Even as a child, you were used and tormented. Your parents had realized your gift when you were young, capitalizing on its ability. The first time it happened you were only a young kid, barely even 5. There was a bird that had flew into your bedroom window. You felt so terrible, rushing outside to see if you could help it. You had no real way to help it, deep down you knew that. Perhaps that's why you held it and cried. Wishing for something to happen. For the bird to just get better and fly away. The next thing you knew there was a glow coming from your hands. Looking down, you were shocked to see it was you who was glowing. The bird was slowly getting up. It was alive. It's bent wing was now straightening out. Once the light was gone, the bird was fine. Looking up at you as if it hadn't been near death a moment ago. Just as fast as it arrived, it left. You wanted to show everyone, but the bird had left. No one would have believed you if your mother hadn't been watching from the kitchen window. After all, you were just a child with an active imagination.

That would have been the end of it, unless you had a sudden urge to go into the medical field. That's all it would have been, an odd memory as a child that you never could explain. You would have lived a simple life, probably would have never left your home town. But times got hard, your parents needed the extra cash. You had an ability that many wished to poses. You didn't blame them, they weren't prepared to have a child. Didn't have the finances or resources. You had been an accident. You were their ticket out, a way to a better life.

It was harsh, most of the time you weren't sure where you were. Your parents would drop you off. Occasionally you would fall asleep in bed, only to be woken up in the car by your dad to get ready for another job. Out for another full day before they came back for you. Then a few days later, it started all over again. The jobs entailed healing hunters or others of the government. To helping what you would later find out to be the mafia. They paid the best. Seeing such sights at a young age was difficult, but no matter how much you cried to your parents to not go back. They would lead you back into the car for another job.

Having a job every few days, usually once a week. Suddenly went to a job almost every day when your dad's drinking got worse. Then along came gambling and to him, you were a solution. Your mother couldn't help, she had her own issues. All you could tell yourself was at least you had more food on your plate now and the occasioanl new outfit that wasn't made from trash material. When you got older you were passed off to a 'handler'. A man your parents deemed trusting enough to care for you. Your parents didn't want to continue driving you hours away for a job. Especially when your father was usually too drunk to even find his keys. The man was cruel but hid it well. Your parents never said anything, just brushed off bruises and your complaints.

As you got older, you learned tricks. How to avoid your handler, avoid your parents, make your employers happy no matter how grotesque it was. You got good at lying. That was until you were called for a certain job that would take days to get to. It was paying more than anything you had ever got, though most would go towards your parents and the handler. You would get enough for some food and new clothes if you were lucky. The handler drove you off. It was a job resurrecting the dead, something you had only actually done on a human once before. It was difficult and would take you days.

"You do the job and then leave. Okay? This bunch is, well worse than what we've dealt with before."

"Worse than the mafia? I'm shocked."

You weren't, it was only a matter of time until your talents were called on by something worse than what you've dealt with before. Your handler gave you the run down, not to speak unless spoken, to mind your business, don't even look anyone in the eye. Rules that would keep you alive.