Morté's POV

A child around the age of 6 was in a prison cell.

She clenched her ears from the sound other prisoners were making: screams of pain.

Closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip as she contemplated her situation.

"Any witness needs to be exterminated, no exceptions," he began.

Before her was an intimidating man in his mid-thirties garbed in all black.

Harshly he pulled the little girl's hair. She yelped in pain, her scalp dried from many months neglecting a bath.

The girl's appearance was hideous. Her clothes were ratty and damp. Hair matted with blood. Blood smeared on her pale skin that is caked with dirt.

"The enemy of your enemy is an ally," he continued with his lesson.

"Clients are sovereign, but we don't protect them." He brought her to his eye level, not letting go of his grip.

Her reaction was a mere pathetic whimpers in his ears.

"If your client dies, stop operation and find another client."

Without a moment's notice he threw her across the room.

She slid down the wall and stayed there, laying in defeat. Following eyes turned into one of pity.

After a week going without food made her lose her strength.

Exhausted, she panted and tried to stand but failing miserably as she stumbled and fell.

Her cellmates or so-called friends observed, not showing signs of helping.

"Abandon your burden even your ally if they are of no help."

He approached the girl. Looming over her as he turned her head to face him with his leg.

He proceeded his drill. Kicking the already frail girl's stomach, he planted his feet there.

The girl wheezed and choked, coughing as she tried to breathe.

Clawing at his feet trying to remove it was a futile effort since he was stronger...still.

"Put on a show. Your own profile is useless in a job."

He removed his feet and before she could enjoy her momentary relief he stepped on her arm.

A satisfying crack resounded. Her screams of pain adding up to his delight.

She was between the borderline of conciousness and blacking out.

But she couldn't sleep even if he was already gone.

Their screams. Their yells. Their noise.

It's loud. Loud enough to make her want to numb her eardrums. She hated it.

Please just let her sleep in peace. When was the last time she actually slept?

Without hearing their pain. Without waking up to nightmares. Without her parents beside her.

Without her unconsciously shedding a lone tear as she fainted.

"Take risks if it means completing your job. Consider the upside and downside."

Days turned into week. Weeks turned into month. Months turned into year.

"Calculate every possibility, every outcomes, whether you will get something out of it."

Her suffering remained constant, not a single day free of torture.

"Take every chances offered to you."

One day, her ceasing prayers stopped altogether.

"Failure is not an option."

Her eyes started showing signs of emptiness, loss of hope and will to live.

"Cowardice and safety are for weaklings."

His lessons came without notice, she couldn't count how many days she spent wondering, will he come today?

"The best assassins kills their emotions, especially in executing the task."

One day he emerged with another child that looked of the same age as her.

A scrawny young boy was shoved to the room.

"If you falter that's the end," he whispered in her ear.

His breath and tone made her flinch in fear, submission and wariness.

"A sliver of sympathy is considered an opening."

She was hyperventilating. It was her first time doing the deed.

She may need to do it again, but how could she not ignore the sensation of lives slipping away because of her?

"Be merciless, compassion is your downfall."

She took it. The boy's life to compensate hers.

She didn't even know what to feel about it.

She wanted to live but wanted the boy to live as well. Along with her cellmates she wants to be saved.

She was greedy.

She was crying. Wailing hysterically. She broke down yet at the same time created anew.

"Endure it. You're worth less to people dead than alive," he spat in distaste.

"If you kill you're a murderer. Even if your victim is a despicable criminal, it's not justice, it's murder."

The girl was now standing still. Her head was cast downwards and her hair serving like a curtain.

"Actually, you're no different than them," he waves his hand to the girl.

The loyal slave she was made into follows orders. She was smiling for some reason, but it looks empty.

The girl, that small, broken child, was myself, the smaller version of me.

The man places his hands on either side of my child-version's shoulder.

"Right, Death Goddess? You're smiling, it means deep down don't you enjoy it?"

He was smiling sinisterly at me, his head positioned beside my smaller version.

"No!"

"Yes! Though partly it was my creation, after all you are my masterpiece."

Killua's POV

"Remember. Do. Not. Enter the 1 m radius around me. Do not throw anything as well," Morté informed us.

"Why?"

"Let's just say it won't be good," she implied a threat in that sentence.

"Hmph! As if you could do anything when you sleep, you're defenseless," Tonpa scoffed.

"Suit yourself. I've warned you," she sighed and shrugged.

Well that's what she told us when we're preparing to sleep. I'm now observing her like a hawk.

She's eerily still and doesn't mutter or shift the slightest bit.

Kira is laying beside her, curled up into a ball. Soft whines and growls could be heard if you listen closely.

Looking back at the pink-haired girl I notice something.

She is sweating profusely and I'm sure behind her mask her face is scrunched up.

She's having a nightmare.

I want to know what makes this girl has a bad dream. What is it about?

I want to comfort her, but it's not my problem and she probably doesn't want me to poke into her business.

Last time I asked Kira about it in the blimp she only gave me cryptic sentences.

Then I check Gon. He sleeps so peacefully, unlike me and Morté, that I want to bother him.

I grab a pillow near me and fling it to him soundlessly. Suprisingly he catch it in his sleep and even throw it back.

Once more.

Well looks like he's awake. He aimed back at me and soon we started a fast exchange of pillows.

If I threw one he threw one back. We were having fun. A pillow slipped from Gon's hand since I flung it too hard.

The bad thing is the pillow is heading towards Morté.

And just when it seems to enter her 1 m range....

The pillow froze. And I mean literally froze to ice and instantly blast into ice dust.

Now I know why she warned us, at least. And looks like everyone saw it too...

Wait! Rewind that for awhile! What the?! How can it do that?!?

According by their agape mouth I'm sure they saw it. So it's not just me.

••••••••••• NOTE ••••••••••

MUST READ!!!

So.... I think most of you skipped my Q&A but it's okay.

But please do me a favour and give me your opinion on this matter I'm going to talk about.

I'm making another fanfiction. Which one do you want me to make and with which male character you want me to pair my OC with?

If you cannot choose just one (which I greatly understand since mangas and animes are awesome) then the max. limit will be 3.

Here are the options:

1. Alice academy / Gakuen alice

2. Assassination classroom / Ansatsu kyoushitsu

3. Naruto

4. Bleach

5. Ouran high school host club

6.  Food wars / Shokugeki no soma

7. Tokyo Ghoul

Take your pick! Comment to me! Or private message me! Or post the message at my profile! Whichever!

Deadline is on 7 May 2016!

I sincerely asks you to accept my apologies......

I update late! So sorry... And worse next week I'll be having an exam.

For the next week it's a guarantee that I can't update.

Sorry. See you next chapter!