• She murded many. Blood had become what she desired. What she craved. It was her water. Her source of life. She did not dream as others slept. She did not play as other girls danced. She was different...She was a child of satan himself. A child from hell....



    A mother looked at the young body. So frail but beautiful. Something that not got to even grow. Tears fell onto the young babies cheek as the loving mother stared at it. The mothers hand going to touch the babies young cold cheek. "I love you my Seria...I love you." That was when the mother broke down. Her eyes cold and distant. "What about me ,mother, Don't you love me as well." The mother suddenly glared at the child. "Why would I love such a rotten curse...Its your fault that my baby is dead!" The child felt tears in her eyes. "But i'm your baby too mama..." The mother just once again glared at the child. "You are not my child...you are a definition of hatred, of course you would probably would not even know how to feel, or what hatred is like, you wretched mongrel." The child suddenly felt tears coming out her eyes. Salt water drifted into her mouth.

    She did know hatred. Hatred is what that child had felt growing up with this woman. A woman who abused and mistreated her. Thats what hatred was. It was not her...it was the people around her. The people who mistreated her. The people she could just die to kill. The people she would later murder.

    Endless nights that child stayed in a dark, cold room. The dark moon shinning on her. Her fears as those endless nights. Did that woman care? No...she only cared about that precious little baby. What was specail about that creature? It was chubby and disgusting. If you had asked the young girl she would had said that the baby was wretched not her.

    But of course nobody wanted her opinion. Nobody needed her. She was the child of satan. Why would anybody want this curse in there lives? Why would anyone even bother to look. How this child became so ugly to others compared to her deep fair skin and beautiful long hair no one who didn't believe in this rumour would know. As she grew she became more beautiful by the day. But her mother did not care. Each day the mother would just slap the child saying that the baby would have been just as beautiful, that the child had stolen the baby's soul. Each day the child would just cry till eventually she did not bother to even reply nor look at her 'mother'.

    Thats when her first victim of many started. When her blood turned cold and her future a torture to anyone who had ever tried to cross her or bully her. Her mother was the first victim of many. The first one to know this girls rage and the first one to know the pain that this child locked up inside. The pain that brought this girl to the edge of sanity...