Pain. The first thing I felt as I woke up, was a sharp pain on my back. The edge of the blade pushing deeper into my skin and being pulled down while a loud uncontrolled yell left my lungs. I must have passed out again. The punishments always got worse if they realized I wasn't feeling their efforts of making me hurt. Stupid me for disobeying their orders again. Stupid, stupid me. They pulled the blade off my back and I felt blood trickling down my back and off the chair. "Be sure to follow orders next time!" a voice shouted. Were the whips and punches of their brass knuckles not enough? Did they really have to show their anger by cutting my skin again? I was already bruised from "mission" they sent me on. I was already in pain, but they always deemed it not enough. They needed me to fully submit to their orders. A perfect worker. No, I'm not an employee. Slave? Either way, I'm not getting paid. --------- A young man kidnapped to be built into the perfect assassin.