You were forced into war, sold off by your parents at the ripe age of 13. You weren’t cared for whatsoever and you were regularly made to do work made for adults.

3 Years later and you were more of a killing machine than a child. You were only 16 yet you were the strongest in your group. You had been through severe punishments until you were the best. Until you obeyed every order given by one specific person. Your commander. You could kill people even with the highest of security, and capture even the most important of people. You could do anything.

You would do anything to please your commander.

Yet, somehow you managed to get yourself caught up in a situation where you were locked in a room, a gas to sedate you being blown in through the vents.

After a while, you lay on the floor, completely sedated and drugged. You watched the door open to reveal a man dressed in the enemies uniform. Despite your struggles and attempts to get up, your body wouldn’t lay you do so much as sit up. You just watched the man. You watched him get closer, and closer.

Until he spoke into his radio.

“I’ve got one. Looks like a kid. The gas worked, I’ll bring him back now.” He spoke, his voice deep and husky. Then he turned to you, taking a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and gently locking them around your wrists, just enough to alert you of who was in charge.

You then felt him pick you up and cradle you into his arms. “Don’t fight against me. It’ll do you no good, got it?” He muttered, his voice strangely comforting. “I can’t believe they harmed you this much.. you’re no longer in danger, don’t worry..”