Name's Damian, Damian Grey but most call me Prince as I am the only son of Lord Grey who is head of the Grey family street gang. You see my family practically runs the underground of this pathetic human city. Unknown to most of them I'm not like them, I act the part of the ruthless killer, the son of the Lord but I'm not one of them. I would rather not kill, truly I just want to adventure, see everything the world has to offer, but I know that isn't really possible. At 17 and a half I am a serious chain smoker, we're talkin' three packs a day here, minimum. Why? Well I'll get to that.
Now the first time I killed someone I was only six years old and it was an execution, all that was required of me was one shot to the man's head. You think I did it? Well yeah, of course I did. My father placed the nearly white silver Ingram Mac 10 in my pale young hands and directed me to shoot him, no one not even me, disobeyed that man. I shot the weapon, the sound of the bullets blasting out of the barrel drowned out the man's pleas for my father to reconsider. After that I trained for some years with my father and sir Linden in the underground training facilities he had built for me. I excelled at mixed martial arts and even got track record for assembling and un-assembling weaponry. In the shooting range we didn't use clay pigeons; we had no reason to as we would not be shooting into the sky. No, we used traitors and street people, real live people set loose and running. By the time I was 16 father thought I had proven myself in training and so I rose to his side, watching how he lead our family death business and slowly I began to understand.
I under stood why everyone feared my father, he was a monster and what had I become? The thought of it sickened me; we killed so many who stood in our way, even those who were just in the wrong place wrong time, innocents! We extinguished their lives as we played god in this twisted miniscule city. Then one night, I remember that night well, my father summoned me. Here I thought the old bastard was going to tell me he was ill or something, he never summoned me at night. But no, it was much more tragic than that, and I should have known, my father doesn't catch illnesses anyway. It was his birthday but he didn't celebrate anymore, he didn't want to alarm the servants with his age. He summoned me that night, the night was a warm one, the breeze outside not enough to refresh anyone the humidity drove some mad but I rather enjoyed it. Any ways, he summoned me that night to tell me he was handing over the business which suited me fine. If the business were mine I could easily dismantle it and let this city return to its old ways, but he wasn't done...
He told me he and Linden were moving, so they could leave this city to me of course, and that was great it would take them some time to learn of the city's redemption. Then he made his fatal mistake of disclosing to me that they would be starting a new business when they found a suitable city. I couldn't bear it, the thought of another city being corrupted like this one. I wouldn't let another city fall under his rule and without thinking I lashed out. My hands became power full talons and I ripped my father's heart clean out of his chest before even I could blink. He stumbled back and fell onto the bed, his old but still strangely beautiful body began to rapidly decay and soon only dust was left. I gathered as much as I could and threw it out the window of his room in the sky scraper, before I could turn from the window I heard the gasps, the shrieks. I heard the rattling of the trolleys with his dinner I heard Linden's voice, then I heard his heart skip a beat. I thought it would stop as he fell to his knees.
I knew that man loved my father more than he loved life itself, I tried to apologise to him even though I think I knew he would never forgive me. Before I could apologise he lunged, tackling me we flew the open window behind me. I lit a cig as we fell, his claws searching for me in the night sky as we plummeted but with a "death-stick," as some call them, I easily disappeared. One of the reasons I crave smokes so bad is that with one I found I could teleport in a way. And so I watched him fall he obviously lost the beat of my heart, in my darkness I am invisible to the world, and stopped his struggling, falling quickly down to the not so busy streets below. Damn him! What was this feeling I felt tearing through my peaceful darkness? Was it pity? Was it love? Why couldn't I watch him fall? Why the hell couldn't I let him die?
