Yours Truly (Complete)

Big Plans

I know what they were planning next and no way in hell will I let them lock me up.

Since my dad has died, I've become head of the organization. Which means I call the shots and I say who lives or who dies.

I went down to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast before I had to leave. As I poured the cereal in the bowl I heard rustling coming from the living room.

I grabbed a cutting knife from the drawer. I then made my way to the living room. About 7 men looking, breaking, and searching around.

"Can I help you?" They froze as the words came out of my mouth. They all looked at each other and nodded.

They ran towards me all at once. Thank God my leg was healed. Either way, I'm still going to win. I took the back of the knife and jammed it into one of their foreheads, making him stumble back and hit the floor. "That was easy."

Two more came at me, I tripped one pushing him into the other. I was grabbed from behind. They held my arms behind my back as they made full blown punches to my stomach. I started coughing up blood. I brought my leg up and jammed it into the person behind me knees.

He let me go out of pain. I then rammed his head against my knee.  The other kept coming at me I easily dropped them to floor only for them to get back up again.

A gun shot was heard from where the front door was. Everyone froze but me. I took this chance to hold one with a knife to their neck.

"I didn't need your help, You can leave now." I looked at Ryan. He tucked away his gun and quickly ran over to me.

"Yeah right. Who are they?" He asked me. Because yes, I'm going to know who these people are and why they were breaking into my house. Note the fucking sarcasm.

"Oh you know, Buddies from work. Does it look like I know who these guys are?!" I rolled my eyes. I put handcuffs around his hands and took off his mask.

He was unrecognizable. "Who are you? And what are you and your friends doing in my house?" I had my hand around his throat.

"Burn in hell." Was all he said.

"I'll be sure to do that after I pull every organ out of your body." I smiled and knocked him out. "Take him to the torturing rooms along with all of his friends." I told Ryan as he called in for help.

After he finished his phone call he stopped and looked at me. "We need to talk, Elizabeth."

"No thanks, I've done enough talking. Go back to keeping your distance from me." I grabbed my keys and left the house.

I didn't know where I was going. I was just tired of fighting things and always trying to succeed. Now, all I want to do is kill and hurt people. I love the feeling. Every kill makes me feel more alive. More in control, and I don't want to stop.

It's weird because my step father and I never got along. Although, he did save me from my past; he also made me have a deep desire to kill and shead others blood. I was thankful for him, he taught me how to stop feeling. He also showed me how to be free.

Which is why I haven't really cried about this whole thing. I mean of course, I cried when I first heard the news. That only lasted a hour. All the emotions that have seeped back into my cold heart from years ago, were now gone.

That's where I get the name 'Reaper'. My emotions kept me from hurting the people I have grown a liking to. Now that they are gone, all I feel is hate. I feel like the real Elizabeth.

The Elizabeth that everyone quakes in fear at just a mention of my name. The one where people avoid going on missions, scared to be left for dead; knowing that I could leave them if I wanted.

You may or may not be asking yourselves: "What made her like this?" I'll tell you exactly what happened.

*Elizabeth's Past*

I was 7 1/2 at the time. The windows around me shuttered, noticing that they hadn't been completely sealed. The rusty sound of the bed frame squeaking at the sound of every move.

Screaming and glass shattering was heard from outside the door. I had been locked in this room for days now. Do you ever have that one super dark, or really happy memory that you remember no matter how young you are, or how old you get?

This one is my dark memory. My mom's voice echoing through the thin walls, "You have to let her out, She's only 7, she won't survive in there!" She screams at the man who had kept us here for a very long time.

Bugs crawling across the floor. The hard ropes that knotted my hands together, burning the skin underneath. It didn't hurt as bad. I had been used to it.

A loud 'smack' was heard and then loud foot steps. The door handle jingled for a second. It had been slammed opened by the guy that had stolen us. He had been covered in blood.

My eyes widened in horror, "Mama!!" My fragile voice surrounded the room. My mom was no where in sight.

"Shut up! You stewpid, worthhhless kid!" The man yelled. His words slurring from the amount of alcohol consumed. He came towards me. His fist colliding with my face.

I remember the warmth of his hands smashing into my face. The need for him to continue. For him to hit me hard enough for me to fall asleep and never wake up again.

Of course, that didn't happen. He had stopped punching and hitting me. He untied the ropes that left red marks and wounds on my wrist.

He dragged me to the living room. It was full of drugs and empty beer bottles. I was to petrified. He threw me to the floor. "Say bye to your mom." He said and then mumbled something. It sounded like, "Even though she's already gone."

I crawled over to my mom. Tears streaming down my pale face. Sobs being heard from everywhere. My mom laid lifeless on the cold floor. Blood staining her soft skin.

Something caught my eye. It had been sticking halfway out if my mom's pocket. It was shiny? I slowly reach my hand out and into her pocket. A pocket knife! Thank god!

I took a deep breath and slid the knife into my side pocket. "I'm finished." I said quietly.

"Whateverrrr." He grunted and picked me up by my hair. I screamed in pain. He put his face close to mine as he got ready to say something.

I then pulled the knife out and jabbed it into his chest. Not enough to kill him, but enough to make him weak. Men barged into the door wearing all black. Guns in their hands.

By the time they noticed me, the knife was placed over my kidnappers throat.

"Look here girl, You don't need to do that.." He pulled out his badge and showed me. "We are here to get you out of here." He said. I sniffed.

"I have to do this." I slid the knife across his throat, his blood drenching my hand. The men helped me up into their car. They took me to the building that they called the 'Organization'.

That's where I met my adopter. He smiled widely at me. "We have big things planned for you."