Halifax

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She tells herself over and over that she's not afraid to fight; that she's alright with hurting others. She can trick them, steal from them, crush them beneath the heavy blade of her cleaver-- as long as it keeps her safe, she can commit any wicked deed. After all, only the strong survive. She has learned too well that there's no room in this world for soft hearts like hers.

Deep down, she knows it's all a front. Guilt haunts her like a ghost, coiling through her wings, around her neck; weeping in her ear. But she feels she is beyond atonement, so she continues her pattern of destruction. "It's for my own good," she says to herself, gripping her weapon with trembling claws. "I'm just trying to protect myself. I'm not scared. I can't be scared."

She tries not to think about how much she has in common with the one she hates most.