FOOD FOR THE WOLVES, After three years of a certain incident that happened in your past, you finally manage to get over this trauma. In Russia (your native country) you meet a person you never thought you would see again, or at least you thought so...
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You were still able to retrace precisely what made you a humanoid lawlessness, unfit of even being called human.
"My dear... You are the godsend of the gods themselves. The priest told me one year that one day I will have a dinky and bonny girl like you. Look, I have you," A smile had array on her iconic red lips as she to you in a gentile and overly dovelike tone.
"You flatter me too much, my dear Mother... But I sense I like a sinfulness. An ill-natured, contagious and unflagging sin. Therefore, I must have to free you from sin," Your voice seemed more neutral than genuine restlessness. You hoisted your head to your Mother and smiled.
"What are you telling me, darling? What are you talking about? I do not get it..." Her words were not sufficient. Her voice was quiescent and feeble and an inner anger tormented you.
"You know very well what I recite to you, Mother... This world is filled of sinners like I, and you have been tainted with this sin. I shall take care of your sins," You had repeated it anew to your Mother. Her light eyes were befuddle.
Your mother's flesh had crawled upon hearing your voice so guiltless, but the intent was anything but innocent. You would have taken a step towards her while behind you, you would have pulled out an ax that your mother had seen beforehand. But she didn't venture to tell you anything. She had been in trepidation, and the shock left her speechless on the tip of her tongue.
"Why are you so affrighted, Mother? I'm just subserving you," Your dulcet vocals had echoed in the former quondam room, freezing the bloodstream of your poor mother who had just gotten ready to go out.
Before your mother could respond, you mercilessly assassinate her with her heartrending, rowdy shouting.
That was your new life.
You recalled all of that as if it had occur yesterday. Your past only left you an apathetic expression towards the one who have been your mother, who had taken you from her womb.