Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25119920-20150417182333/@comment-25119920-20150712050402

Hitori didn't need to look at Azulius to know he was hurting to talk about this.

"You have my sincerest condolences, Azulius. Anyone who knew such a woman, such as your grandmother, would've acted in way your family did. It's only natural," he sighed, getting ready to tell his own story. "You've told me something about your past, it's my turn. The beef I have with Lucifer and his gang goes way back. The Legion is made of a bunch of Grimm worshippers, and they would do unexcusibly horrible things to show their idols. Their old demented boss, Necro, felt it was exciting to somehow release Grimm on poor towns, supposedly keeping their lords happy. My hometown was one of those unfortunate targets."

Hitori felt himself slowly breaking down. Trying to distract himself, he conjured a Fire Glyph and grabbed it. He felt the burning pain surge through his hand, and grimanced.

"My mother had hidden me in a safe room, where the Grimm couldn't reach. But she used herself as bait to keep them away, and I had a front seat to watch, at the age of three. By the time I was found, I was one of the few lucky survivors of the attack. I moved to Atlas, where my father, Link, got a job with Schene Dust Company. However, he attack left me a shut-in, for the later years of my life. If it wasn't for school, I was always inside. The only one I talked to was my old man."

His eyes teared up, remembering the brutal memories, but he kept them hidden under his hood.

"Like me, Mom's death had taken him hard. Yet, he was my beacon of hope. He didn't drink, go out and do stupid shit, but stayed with me. We'd just stay home and either talk or stay silent. It wasn't the best life, but I was content. Until the Legion came back. They robbed a small research building, and held the workers hostage. My father was among them. At the same time, a goon tracked our house down and held me captive, for more leverage. "

"A group of Hunters did respond and help, but at a cost. My father's life. The rest of the time was tramatic. The goon pulled his gun, and I waited for death. But, death came to him. Pierced through the heart with a sickle, he fell to the ground, dead, and I fainted out of shock and fear. This happened to me when I was eight. I awoke in a hospital with a group of Hunters around me. Just seeing them gave me enough knowledge to tell what'd happened.

"I cried. The only family I had, who cared for me, was gone. They could tell my pain, and offered me place with them. A place in life. I accepted in a heartbeat, because I had to lose. All I brought was myself and the headphones you see today. To this day, I still don't know why they asked to train a child. But, I'm grateful, because I would've killed myself, without it."

His grip on the spike tightened, and the burning grew stronger. He took a deep breath and spoke further.

"I lived, trained, and fought with them for the rest of the time, until I came to Beacon. The first time I ran into Lucifer, he beat me easily. My hurt pride in the battle is shown through my scars. I secluded myself, not speaking or walking unless it was necessary."

He let go of the flaming spike, and dispersed the Glyph. He looked at his hand, seeing most of his glove burnt off, and the strong burn marks on his hand. Then steam started to arise, as his Aura made its way with healing.

"The Legion is responsible for turning me into this psycho, and they're going to pay," he said, tearing streaming down his face. "I'm going to show the Legion what hell truly is, even if it kills me."