(Bloodwraith POV)

Teardrops laid on the floor, reflecting a tiny version of my distraught face in each one. Maybe this was retribution.

For all those I murdered.

For abandoning my brother.

Why should someone like me get to be happy?

When did things go wrong?

I still remember that day clearly.

We were only a few years old, my brother and I. I was five at the time, Alex a year younger. For the past year we had been living in the orphanage, having been abandoned by our mother.

We didn't really know what was going on back then, but I think we knew we would never see her again. As the rain pattered against the roof and trickled down the windows, I held my brother close to me. He had long fallen asleep, but I continued to gaze through the window at the rainy day.

A knock rang on our door, before it was slowly opened by one of the adults. She softly smiled at me, a gleeful look on her face. "Eleanor, I have great news!"

Before I could respond, another man entered the room. He was unfamiliar, wearing a fancy suit with meticulously styled hair. I didn't know who he was, but I immediately realized he was important.

"Hello there, my name is Wilson Waverson." He brightly smiled. "I finally found you, my children..."

That day our biological father found us.

At the time, I was overjoyed. My brother and I would finally have a real home. There were quite a few things I hadn't noticed at the time.

After all, wasn't it quite strange that our biological father would just appear like that? Where was he before? Why now?

I wouldn't realize until much later, but his relationship with our mother was an affair. One which lasted for a while, and ended up in the birth of the two of us.

He was an up and coming businessman, finally starting to become rich and famous. Evidently, it had gone to his head. He betrayed his wife, going behind her back and having fun with other women. And when he found mother, he took quite the liking to her.

Well, obviously having two children with another woman was a big mistake. If the public found out he was a cheater, he'd lose a decent amount of support. Enough that his name would be marred in controversy for quite some time.

I'm not sure whether mother abandoned us to protect herself, or to protect us. If it was the latter, then it didn't fucking work. And I don't know whatever happened to her either, I didn't care about chasing a phantom of my past.

Despite that, I still use her last name. Elsher.

Well, it's better than Waverson. I'd rather die than share a last name any longer with that BASTARD.

I thought that getting adopted by him was a stroke of good luck. How wrong I was.

There's a reason why there is no heir to the Waverson Corporation. Adopting us wasn't made public, not even to the man's own wife. He didn't adopt us out of goodwill, to make things right, or to take care of his children.

He did it out of greed and fear. To make sure that there was no connections between him and mother, that no one would realize his affair. After all, I heard the orphanage burned down a few days later.

And then the other reason.

To make us useful. To make us WEAPONS.

My wooden sword clashed against Alex's, before the both of us jumped back. Alex grinned at me with admiration through shining eyes. Sweat rolled down our faces as we got into our positions, before once more charging at each other.

I was eleven, and he was only ten, and yet every day we would continuously exert ourselves in order to please father. Every day, continuously training.

We were taught in all different weapons, along with various forms of close combat and weaponless fighting styles.

We were taught in all sorts of assassination methods, from knives to poison to "freak accidents".

We were being made to become the greatest weapons for our "father". He held no care, no love for us. At the time, we still foolishly believed he did. That he would be proud that we were doing so good in our "studies".

Studies of every conceivable way to kill a human being, that is. And don't even get me started on the constant observation to see when we would develop powers. Both of us were found to have S-Genomes, and were observed every day for signs of their appearance.

It was a year later we stopped using wooden substitutes for weapons.

Alex winced as my knife cut the top of his shoulder. I made sure to not get too deep, leaving a thin, red line on his shoulder. He frowned, adjusting the grip on his blade as he dashed after me.

I dodged each one of his slashes, each one slowly becoming more and more desperate. As I dodged another one I got close, getting too close too quick for him.

With a quick strike to the stomach using my free hand he was left breathless. I quickly swiped his feet using my legs, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before he could react I was atop him, the arm that held his weapon pinned and my knife at his throat.

"Eleanor wins." Stated a man in a suit, the one in charge of observing our sparring.

Alex frowned, an upset expression appearing on his face. I stood up, walking away as I heard him smack the ground with a frustrated fist.

"Damn it." He growled under his breath.

"You can't let her get past your weapon." The man spoke. "Especially when you're using one such as a knife. It shouldn't be possible for her to get past that, and yet she did."

"I know." He growled, standing back up. He stared at me with a determined look in his eyes, a big contrast to my own cold expression. "Again."

We were slowly drifting away from the other. Each time we fought, I bested him. Each time we fought, he stopped being my brother. Each time we fought, I lost the one thing I loved.

And it was tearing us apart.

As time passed by, I was told to go further and further. I'm not sure if it was because we still had my unlocked our S-Genome despite the many years of training, but I was being forced to go harder and harder on my brother.

And then it happened one day.

I was fifteen when I awakened to my power.

And when I had already been beating Alex, I utterly destroyed him. For my power was what I deemed Ignorance, making me practically undetectable as long as I didn't draw attention to myself.

Though it was weaker at the time, it gave me even more of the edge needed against my brother. A somewhat even match became a one-sided slaughter. I had always been better than my brother, and my power only accentuated that.

The rift between us grew even further.

Father had told me to go even harder on him. To make it hurt. To hurt him enough that he would finally "get his act together" and become as good as his dear old sister. He told me to make a mark upon him, literally and figuratively.

I argued against him. That was my mistake that made me finally realize he didn't care for us.

Because it was then that he issued his two orders I literally could not betray. For my power to not work upon him, and that I could never raise a hand against him.

I had fooled myself into believing he had cared for me and my brother for so long. That was the day my trust in him was shattered.

In the next bout against my brother I left a disgusting scar across his chest. I am sure he still has it to this day.

While he would recover Father would order me on different assassination missions, now that I had proven myself to be strong enough with my skills and power.

I murdered my first person at the age of fifteen.

And as I stared at my reflection in that crimson blood, I couldn't help but laugh. Despite the fact I was a marionette on strings, there was a freeing feeling to taking a life.

That crimson blood was gorgeous.

I know. I'm disgusting.

I hate myself too.

For the next few years I continued to take lives. For the next few years I continued to injure my own brother. For the next few years my infatuation with blood grew.

By the time three years had passed and I had become eighteen, I had sent him to the hospital multiple times. They kept forcing me to do more damage upon him in the hopes that he would awaken to his S-Genome.

It was right after then that the final straw was broken.

"Do you know why I have called you here, Eleanor?" My Father intertwined his fingers, leaning onto his desk as he stared at me.

"No sir, I have not." I replied.

"Your brother still hasn't awakened, despite already being seventeen." He continued. "He has just finished recovering again, and he still shows no signs."

I tried not to fidget, worried about where he was going with this. I had already heard plenty about his frustrations with my brother not awakening to his power...

...but something especially worried me this time, and I couldn't put my finger on it.

He shook his head, a sigh coming from his lips. "It's a shame, but it seems we haven't been forceful enough. Tomorrow the two of you will fight to the death."

"W-what?" I gasped, staring at him with wide eyes.

"You heard me." He nodded with an uncaring tone. "These spars haven't been enough. The two of you will fight until one dies...unless your brother awakens to his power."

"Y-you can't be serious-!" I shouted, only to be cut off by his glare.

"I am deathly serious." He glowered. "Do not make me order you, Eleanor. Because I will if you don't listen to your dear old father."

"I...I understand..." I bit my lip, looking at the floor as I submitted.

"Good." He stated. "You are dismissed."

I walked out of his office, and I had made my decision. I may have come to enjoy the act of taking lives...

But I couldn't bear to watch the life drain from my brother's eyes, even if it was accompanied by the beautiful shining crimson of blood.

Anyone but him.

All this time, I had been hurting him. He's grown to resent me, because of you. And now you want me to kill him.

UNACCEPTABLE.

I finally decided to run away.

I would've done so long ago with Alex, but Father had given him an order that he wasn't allowed to leave the building unless given permission.

Even if I were to knock my brother unconscious, the order would force his body to deny being taken outside. It would fight until it literally couldn't anymore.

I know because I tried.

So all this time I had been waiting, continuing to follow Father's orders to be his "perfect weapon" so he wouldn't use his power on me anymore.

And he hadn't ordered me to never run away.

What an oversight, Father.

I wasn't obeying you because I was loyal.

It was that day that I ran away.

That I disappeared.

That I abandoned my brother.

The guards stood no chance. Blood littered the hallway as I dispatched each one of their miserable life. I was painting the walls and floor in my favorite color as I made my escape, as one final "fuck you" to father.

I continued to slice and strike each and every one of them, making sure I continued to move forwards. I killed as many as I could, wiping them out before Father could appear and issue another order into my ears.

I may not be able to raise a hand against him, but I certainly can against his men. And so I did, snuffing out life after life. It was especially satisfying when I murdered one that had overseen a spat between me and my brother.

By the time I was ready to make my exit, I was confronted by my brother. He stared into my eyes with a furious rage, and I knew that we could never be the same again.

I needed to leave, for his own safety.

I barely remember what happened. Things were a blur, as more guards had appeared with my brother to stop me. I continued to send that glorious, red liquid flying into the sky with each kill while avoiding hurting my brother.

I remember.

I got too close, almost taking out one of his eyes. He was-

My head throbbed, threatening to split apart as my vision blurred and-

Burning, burning, burning, it isn't natural-

The blood is č̴̛̺̹̭͊̅͗r̸̨̳̙͙̙̆͂a̸̩̭̦̣̽w̶̙̰͐̈́l̴̢̛̮̑͋̽̈́i̵̯͈͒̊͠n̴̡̂͐̂̿g̵͇̓̐̀̅̕ ̵̰̹̗͓̾̓t̸͇̫͊͌͌͋ͅo̷̯̦͔̝͘w̸̥̼͐̓̆a̸̠̬̒r̸̡͖̤͚̪͆̐͂ḑ̶̮͌̋s̵̳̤̺̙̙̀͒ ̴̞͇͉̦̰̀̓͊̑͛m̴̠͔̒̀̀̍é̴̡͚̦̖̣̀̍-

Anyways, the rest of the story is pretty self explanatory, you know?

I didn't really have a purpose in life, no longer being with my brother. The best I could do for him was to be away. That way I couldn't harm him. Besides, he wouldn't miss me anyways. He hates me, and for good reason.

With no direction, I simply continued to do what I did best.

That's why this must be my retribution.

For the countless lives I've taken. For the harm I've done upon my brother. It's only natural that he has gotten his well-deserved revenge.

Someone like me shouldn't be happy.

Hahaha...haha...

I'm sorry Jason...

"Now, there is no need to waste any time." My "Father" chuckled from his desk. "Now that my most precious and powerful daughter has finally returned. Your first target is going to be-"

My eyes widened as the window behind shattered, a large object flying through. He ducked in surprise and panic as a motorcycle flew through the air and towards me.

I landed onto the floor and slid to the side as the person riding it stopped it in front of me with an expert's amount of control.

The woman clad in black, with her black hood, gloves, and lower face mask, turned towards me, an amused look in her eyes as she pulled down her mask.

Kasai.

W-what are you doing here...?

"I told you to be cautious." She smirked, before pulling the mask back up.

In a swift move she parked the bike and hopped off, unsheathing the katana from its sheathe on her side and pointing it towards Wilson Waverson.

He looked at her in disgruntled surprise as she narrowed her eyes at him, a cold look overtaking her face.

"What are you-?!" He exclaimed, only to be swiftly cut off by Kasai's cold words.

"You've dug your grave, Wilson Waverson." Kasai stated. "It's a shame there'll be nothing of you left to bury within it."