☢ Chapter Written By StriplessKitten ☢

The dull skies above never dawned on the ravenette, she loved this type of weather. It was the perfect time of day to visit her Father's grave, a monument she and other peasants of the Under-World created, former followers of Exavier Kamishiro. The cloaked girl didn't have to say much, she just stared at the grave site with hidden admiration. After taking her time standing in front of the monument she curtly nods, and salutes.

The pale complexioned girl looked side to side before adorning a smirk, her cloak flapping in the wind behind her as she strode towards the back entrance of an alleyway. When she was certain that nobody was following her or noticed her, Aya pulled down her hood, revealing her jet black locks, her blunt bangs falling in place above her forehead as her hair sprawled down her spine and pooled over either of her two shoulders. Her long tresses had reached down to her mid thigh, as she hadn't had a haircut in quite sometime, that much was obvious judging the basis of it's length.

With careful steps, Aya approached her Father's former hideout, a shack she now called her home. With solitude in her hazel eyes, that she shared with her deceased Dad, she approached the front door, turning the knob anti-clockwise she managed to produce an entrance, swinging the door open, Aya advanced into the shack, slamming the door closed behind her.

Releasing a shaky breath, Aya stripped herself of her cloak and hung it over the coat rack, she then made her way over to the bathroom, all the while she disguarded the majority of her clothing, till she was in nothing but her undergarments. She turned the nozzle of the tap, allowing the water to drip down into the grubby tub while she awaited the water to become somewhat warm, Aya then pivoted on her heel, her hazel orbs catching an unsightly display in her own reflection.

Her once calm demeanor sunk to that of coldness. Her eyes scanning the gruesome scars upon her shoulder blades, bringing back the previous memories of her dreaded past. She shook her head two and fro, trying to rid her mind of the uncanny imaginative obligations that circumferences her entire being with unwanted imagery, too vivid for her liking at all.

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  ҳ̸Ҳ̸ҳ Flash-Back ҳ̸Ҳ̸ҳ

                             Start

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Exavier Kamishiro sat in his study, his black hair tussled as his hazel hues were scanning over paperwork, the man was known for his hard work, after all, he was merely a human who was high in Vampire society. He had married a noble vampire, a white haired woman with heterochromia eyes, her left eye a brilliant blue, and her other eye a magnificent gold. Her name was Prisilla Kamishiro, she was defiantly a lady of class, but she was his pride and joy, or so she thought-- and had one child with her, a damphir (human/vampire) whom they named Zendaya Kamishiro, though they called her merely 'Aya' for short.

Other than his success at getting a privileged name in society, Exavier also had the title of one of the King Lucario Miki's generals in the Vampire Kingdom's army. He was well trusted and highly associated as a man of deserving decent respect. Though, Exavier had a secret, he was an advocate, not just any promoter for a forbidden cause, he was the leader of a rebellion.

This rebellion consisted of peasants, lowest of the classes, that were sick of the heavy taxes, the abuse, the taking of rights that the Vampire Kingdom forced them to endure daily. Exavier plotted against the corrupted Empire with all his might, keeping his rank in the peasant's society a secret very well as he gained weapons, money, and different supplies needed for an uprising. In the meantime of him gathering the necessities of the rebellion's needs, he'd travel to the Under-World where he would speak at rallies. His podium would be a stack of cardboard boxes that he stood upon while he spoke to throngs of people who gathered to hear his speeches, his microphone would merely be his voice being propelled across the crowds in a shouting tone.

Aya was no stranger to these gatherings, and attended every single one. It was nothing out of the ordinary not to say that she wasn't radicalized as a young age by her Father. She was very much another member of the rebellion. Not to mention, the heir to inhabit her Father's hard work.

One fateful day, Exavier prepared another of these rallies, he situated Aya in her usual spot up the front of the crowd in the far center, where she could see him the best. She smiled up at him, her shyness melting away as she gazed up at her Dad with gleaming sparkling orbs he also had the same color as. No denying, Aya was his daughter, she looked exactly like the man. He smirked down at her and then began his speech.

It was no more than twelve minutes since Exavier had first opened his mouth to speak, and the crowd was cheering and whooping at every sentence he phrased. Aya was no different, she hung to his every word. It was odd when Exavier froze mid-sentence though, which made the crowd go eerily quiet. Confusion laced upon Aya's youthful facial features as she tilted her head at her Dad.

Exavier made a choked gag noise as blood poured out of his mouth, a single bullet embedded in the back of his skull. The crowd took into a chaotic resounding, snapping the five year old Aya out of her trance, her little self being lost for actions as she watched Exavier give her one final weak smile before he slumped forth, dropping face first into the dusty ground. Aya let out a scream, it was so high pitched it could've nearly shattered glass. She then took into a sprint to get to her Father, she knelt by his side, seeing his eyes rolled back, his body limp. He was gone. She knew he was. She did.

Her eyes blurred and her eyelashes stung with tears, the salted water trailed down her porcelain-like cheeks in tracks. Her eyes shot upwards as she caught a glimpse of a smoking pistol. The pistol was the color of snow, with floral engravings along the side in gold italics. Holding the pistol was none other than a being the same height as Aya, maybe shorter, the figure pulled down the hood of their cape, revealing her childhood friend, no, Aya's best friend. Aya's scream was sounded again, this time instead of it being grief filled, it was rage empowered. The embodiment of betrayal stood before Aya. She ripped her Father's sword from it's sheathe, and dashed at Sakura, what Aya failed to picture beforehand was the two other bulky bodyguards that stood either side of Leiko, they grabbed Aya's wrists and kicked her Father's sword back to his corpse.

Aya thrashed about in their hold before she too was tossed aside. With a snap of her fingers, Leiko walked away, the two guards trailing behind her. Aya heaved herself off the ground, only to see seven guards peering down at her. Many of Exavier's henchmen had gathered his things, and even his body as they watched on in horror as Aya was lifted over one of the guard's shoulders. Prisilla was nearby, stoic. No expression on her face. Aya's eyes widened to see her Mother.

"M-Mommy!"

"You're no child of mine, you're under arrest for treason. Street-rat."

Aya didn't have to be dumb to figure out what had happened. Exavier was sold out by Prisilla, and Leiko was ordered to execute Exavier. Now Aya was being punished in her Father's stead, why? For mainly being his offspring. Prisilla was disgraced, but she'd recover. That's if Aya allowed it.

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    Time-Skip

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Aya was chained to a musty cellar, down below in the Palace dungeons. She wore the same black dress she did two nights at her Father's assassination. She hung from the ceiling, dandling as her wrists were handcuffed to the chain attached to the said ceiling.

The guards had been torturing the poor child for the forty-eight hours she was trapped in their clutches. Their torture was having their way with her sexually, the guard who'd carried her to the cell, a man in his late forties had stolen her purity, her virginity was out the window, what else? Her beautiful flesh was in tatters, having bruises all over her limbs and abdomen, the most horrid ones on her inner thighs from the first 'incident'. Aya had the worst infotainment wound-wise, upon her shoulder blades. Burn scars, blistered and risen from cigarette buds and torch flames. Igniting a phobia inside the girl for the rest of her life; fire. Aya became a pyrophobia sufferer. She was petrified of anything to do with the flames of any given object.

She was thankfully broken out of her cell by Exavier's followers and brought out to the Under-World once more, where she settled in with the other peasants. The Kingdom didn't even bother to search for her capture again, for reasons that remained unknown, probably Leiko's influence was behind that.

A couple weeks had passed, and Aya had grown extremely different, she no longer held innocence, nor a shy aspect to her personality no longer, she was nothing but cold, distant, and filled with hatred. She had her first kill when she hunted Prisilla down and brutally staked her to death. Only for her body to be found in a river by two noblemen.

Aya underwent drastic changes, she learned how to spar, the arts of swordsmanship, gymnastics, flexibility, archery, and agility with numerous instructors, all who deemed her their best student. By the age of twelve, Aya knew what she wanted. To become her Father's living legacy, to fulfill his will's wishes, for her to carry on the rebellion, that now had a title, an organization, The Rebels of Republic.

She eventually was at the age to inherit the title of the Rebel Commander once she was the age of thirteen. Through her work, she studied all of her combat training as well as studying any roles needed for ruling the rebellion, including politics.

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  ҳ̸Ҳ̸ҳ Flash-Back ҳ̸Ҳ̸ҳ

                              End

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Aya growled under her breath, and removed the remainder of her clothing, which was her undergarments. She then stepped into the shower and began to cleanse herself, all the while, the need for bloodshed spiraled around in her mind. She knew who had made her hit-list next, Sakura's parents. King Lucario, and Queen Diamond Miki. They'd perish, Aya would see to that, her plump lips that usually adorned a flat line twitched upwards into a smirk just thinking of their mangled corpses, her clothes and face covered in their crimson blood, said blood trickling down her fingertips down to her wrists, the very thought excited the beast inside Aya endlessly. Aya's middle name was--

R.E.V.E.N.G.E.

Copyright © 2018 by StriplessKitten

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