Just like a stray dog. You 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒. You always did. Despite diverse attempts of trying to turn your mind into believing you were still a gentle sheep under wolf's fur. The world had made certain that you know you were simply a horrific creature, a wild, merciless wolf. You didn't mind hearing that from others. But one word did.

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲

Oh, how much you despised that word. How much did you loathe that moniker.. You kill every time it's uttered by a soul, no matter the level of her innocence. You were 𝙣𝙤𝙩 crazy.

On a late afternoon,during your training hours, a soldier approached you with what looked like his good buddy and asked if you would like to go out to the bar with them tonight. Completely uninterested, you replied coldly with a negation, and that's what had caused the first man to say;

"Always thinking you're better, you're just a fucking 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 bitch."

His fellow mate snickered in response, tapping his back,indicating to him to leave before things get messy. And as he was about to turn around and follow him, you moved just in time, throwing a rough punch right across his face,probably breaking his nose cartilage in the process. The man growled in pain as he stumbled back,losing his balance and falling down,grunting in pain as his friend moved to grab your hair back forcefully.

"You bitch!"

He said before trying to punch you,freezing once he realized you were fast to dodge it and bring him down,kicking his face unconscious.Then you moved back to the man who called you crazy, straddled his hips,and continually punched his unrecognizable, beaten-up face.

Fury coursing through your entire system, killing was the goal hunting your eyes. The training ground slowly filled up with other members of the base watching the scene, terrified of you.

Only one wasn't.

Your lieutenant, as cold as ice, walks up to you and grips the back of your collar, pulling you up to your feet before holding your jaw tightly but gently before speaking in his low, threatening,deep, gruff voice.

"Calm down."