《ᏚᎢᎾᎡᎷ》Book of One-Shots

1 - Juliet

It wasn't until I was 5 that I realized this wasn't normal. That my parents torturing and murdering a poor soul was not what every family does. That murder was a crime that can have a life-sentence in prison to.
And thanks to their 'powers', I see them as curses, they would know every time I wondered about whether what they were doing was right.
And every time I stepped out of my room that very day I was electrocuted.
I'm guessing it would've hurt.
I'm guessing that my screams of agony were actually agony.
I'm guessing that because I can no longer feel anything. Physically for that matter.
Yet the only emotion I could feel was the satisfaction of watching everything burn. Of watching people scream in terror. Of hearing them beg for mercy, or beg for their death to be quicker.
But that's only begging.
I was sent to an insane asylum after I tried to murder the police that were arresting my parents.
I don't know why I wasn't in juvenile detention, but I guess a kid muttering about murder and telling the police that torture was absolutely fine was not something they'd want other kids to be nearby.
So due to their poor judgment, they sent me to an asylum.
The asylum wasn't like I expected with crazy kids with small daggers racing towards each other.
It was quiet. Peaceful. So silent that it drove me insane with all the voices in my head.
The pounding headaches would've almost been as bad as the daily electrocution if it weren't for me having a burnt-to-a-crisp nervous system. I didn't even know why I wasn't dead, but I'd rather my victims be.
After I had the incredulous idea of setting flames to the asylum, I was sent to a special prison.
Where all they do is torture their subjects.
I was locked up with chains that seemed decades old despite their strength. My both my calves, my wrists, everything. Even my neck.
It was as if I were being spread out, just for the crazy creeps they call their staff.
I was whipped, scarred, everything they could think of.
I don't even know why. I was starved, the only food I was given a day were just mashed potatoes. I didn't even have enough fuel to produce my own waste anymore.
This went on for 3 years.
At the moment, I remember thinking about whether the rust on the iron would sink into my skin and burn it from the outside.
Thankfully, the rust did nothing but help me. Everyday I would budge and attempt escape. And every single day I failed. Until it seemed as if it were time for these rusty old rings to get off me.
First it was my left arm. My neck. My right arm. Then it was my legs. Right to left.
The cool air on my forever-scarred limbs was pretty much unknown to me. I was bleeding all over.
And so, that very moment, shoved back on my unhygienic clothes and took off.
I was walking some, until I noticed a figure—a man to be exact— was coming towards my way. I looked over at the WANTED Poster next to me, aligning their faces and finding a perfect match.
This man was like me.
Escaping from prison. Would he change my life? I took another step forward.
Yes. He did.

(The guy at the end belongs to -oceanmist- )