"She was bred to be the perfect soldier. She doesn't blink, she doesn't think, and most importantly she doesn't hesitate. She just kills without remorse."
Her entire life, Storm had only be one thing; a mindless soldier for those around her to use f...
In hopes you're on the other side talking to me too"
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TEMPEST ONCE HAD A FATHER. Maybe not by blood, or even love, but he was there once. She hardly remembered his face, and his voice, just that is was warm. Not like her mother, who always looked at her own children with a fiery hatred. The man she recalled, to her knowledge, was benevolent. He gave her hugs, read bedtime stories, and even tucked her into her gray covers when she had a nightmare. For the first years it was bliss. Because even if she had to deal with the brutishness of Jeanine, at least the man she called "dad" was present.
Until he wasn't anymore. It rained that night, a torrential pour mixed with thunderous claps and angry strikes of lightning. Tempest didn't see much, but she heard everything. The screams, sorrowful cries. It was so loud the two twins locked themselves in the closet to escape the noise. It was so loud.
Until it wasn't anymore. The house went silent. She could only hear her own heartbeat, and when the two finally found the bravery to exit the sanctuary-like closet he was gone. There wasn't an ounce of evidence he even existed. All the photos, even the cooking supplies he used every night to cook them dinner, disappeared into thin air. And then it was done, a perfectly tragic, wrapped-up ending. Jeanine said he left them. That he never wanted to see their faces again.
The innocent children, barely five years old, believed their mother. Because at least she was still here. She was still in their presence, now their only caretaker left.
That was the first time Tempest felt the disease of depression. If someone so kind didn't want her, who would? She was unlovable. It was the only solution her young mind could come up with. Not the fact that Jeanine disposed of him, or possibly he didn't leave out of his own free will. Just that it was her fault.
It was too much for her mind to handle. She cried for what felt like years, Drake holding her until her sobs quieted down. But the ache in her heart never ceased. It followed her like a cloud of smog. Later that year she snuck onto the train tracks. Tempest, with all the strength in her five-year-old body, climbed up. Farther and farther till she reached the top. Then she waited. And waited.
Until the train finally came. Jeanine earlier that day had beat her into oblivion. That's all Tempest could picture in that moment. She was ready to go, convinced it was her time.
She embraced the rumbling of the tracks, the whistle of the train. And the young child stepped forward. Yet god, or some higher-power, must have been on her side that day. Or perhaps the exact opposite, now she looked at it as the devil punishing her. A dauntless member saw the girl, and with all the bravery his faction stood for, he jumped. Tackled her from the train cart, right before she stepped to the other side.
