Her Beginning

The End (For Her, Anyway)

The young girl laid in the hospital bed, the wires and tubes coming out of her and connecting to machines making her seem like nothing more than a puppet. There was a faint, but constant beeping from the heart monitor, though it was really just one of the child's tricks. Her eyes were closed, but she was not asleep. No, she was waiting. Waiting for the familiar feeling of peacefulness to wash over her, waiting for the darkness to overtake her. Waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel. The child was waiting for her death. There was no way she was going to survive to see the sun the next day, damned if she even got to see the moon and stars this night. And it was okay. She had been waiting for this moment ever since she had first gotten sick. The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. This illness was unlike any they've ever seen before. It stumped even the greatest doctors and scientists of the world that they had brought in. It made the child laugh, how pitifully stupid they were. The girl knew what was wrong with her. And there was nothing that anyone could do to fix it. Her body was, simply enough, not adjusted correctly to survive in Earth's atmosphere. You see, the girl was not from this world, far from it. She was from a place that can only be described as Hell. And not the 'damned souls' Hell, no. Her Hell was where demons roamed, lurking around every corner, hiding in the shadows, ready to jump out at you and tear you to bits. They didn't scare the girl, though. They were scared of her.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The young girl sighed and opened her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to turn the machine off, to make the false heart she had put in her chest stop beating to end that infernal sound. But if she did that, the doctors and nurses would rush in and poke her with more needles and most likely cut her open. It's a miracle! They'd say. The child can survive without a heart! She never had a heart. Her kind never did. It was not necessary, and it gave them emotions that were useless and would distract from their missions. Mercy is for the weak. Emotions are for the dead. That was the last thing her birth parents had said to her before... She wasn't really quite sure what had happened to them, but they were most likely dead.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

She groaned. The beeping was starting to get on her nerves. Just as she started to reach up towards her chest to turn off the false heart, she heard a voice.

"I would not do that if I were you, little one."