I lay there on the hard cold floor as a new born child would, not knowing who, or where I was.
“Do you know who you are?” said a cold voice near the far corner of a pale gray cavern lit by several torches embedded into the wall.
“Do you know who you are?” asked the voice again. “I… don’t…”
“Stand up.” Said the voice, and I felt my limbs move without my consent. My body struggled to find the right movements that would make me stand, and little by little, I could feel my body rising to an upright position.
“Who Am I?” I call out to the voice in the shadows. I waited for a response, but none came.
“WHO AM I!?” I call out once again while clenching my fists. I didn’t know why I wanted the question answered so badly. The absence of my identity burned with such ferocity that I didn’t care what answer I received for the question that tore at my soul. The lack of an identity was a punishment no creature could live with.
"You are an abomination," he bellowed, "and you belong to me." Immediately, the burning in my chest subsided. I now had an identity, and that was good enough for me.