She was about to murder something. Or someone. She wasn't picky.

No, but seriously, why wasn't that god damned brother of hers not shutting his shit-eating mouth up. If she could, she would have long since ripped open his jaw and forced it into his ass.

Also, she had a name now. Well, a new name at least. Laura, or as her 'mother' called her, Lulu.

It was cute, and she hated it. Well, actually, no she didn't, but she wanted to hate something, so her name would have to do. Her brother was next, and then her parents, one of which she was pretty sure was about to kick the bucket.

As a one-year-old, she'd graduated from unmoving poop-maker to crawling poop-maker. Such achievements merited a feast, no? Surely her parents would get on their knees and offer her several virgin hearts as a sacrifice to her.

Shame they hadn't done so yet.

Also, from what she could see, which was admittedly pretty little, her daddy dearest was kind of a big deal. Maybe. He had a lot of people coming every day on their ship to speak, and most of them seemed to admire him.

Oh, yes, did she forget to mention they lived on a fucking ship? Talk about moving homes too many times. Forget that, her house was a moving home itself.

As Laura watched her mommy dearest play with the shit-eater that was her brother, looking just a little paler and weaker every minute, she wondered if she could somehow make the hag kick the bucket earlier. Maybe she could poison her with her evil thoughts? Who knows, she'd seen both her father and mother do some pretty crazy shit before, like covering themselves in black stuff. Talk about social progress, at least this world wasn't racist.

Fingers crossed it was and she'd have an excuse to kill people.

As her mother got up and left, knees shaking slightly, Laura was suddenly assaulted by the shit-eater baby. Well, more like slowly crawled towards and then babbled at, but it was pretty much the same thing.

Moving backward at a safe distance from what she could swear were hands that had just gone into a diaper, Laura wondered the possible repercussions if she were to accidentally strangle the baby.

Well, there was time for that later, when she wasn't so helpless. For now, she settled on glaring at the shit-eater. It worked wonders as the little thing, stupid as it was, realized the 'fuck off now before I murder you' message. Or maybe the toy to the left suddenly caught it's attention more than the weird creepy brat.

Laura would take her victories where she could find them.

Sniffing haughtily, Laura crawled away on all four, internally debating on whether she should find a knife to draw some of her blood out. It usually helped when she was beginning to feel murderous, and oh boy, after a year of torture worst than what the mafia had done to the past him, she was feeling slaughterous.

Or just a bit frustrated at being a shitty little baby. Basically the same thing though.

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Ah, and weren't those delicious screams of pain and war? Oh, they were. And they were coming closer.

Laura blinked a couple of times before shuffling off to the side of the room, hiding her cute little chubby body under a pile of blankets, leaving only an eye out. Hopefully, the other shitty brat would die.

The door burst open as a bloodied man that had several pretty bad slashes across his body entered the room, eyes gleaming with madness as he searched the room for life, and immediately, they landed on Laura's brother.

With a war cry filled with ecstasy, the man launched himself forward, sword at the ready, and then... tripped.

And fell on his own sword. Head first.

Laura blinked a couple of times. Well, wasn't that a pathetic way to die.

She strained her ears for more hostile sounds but was instead answered by a wrathful god in the form of a father, eyes glazing in an absolute fury that left even poor little cute and helpless Laura feeling a little apprehensive.

His eyes assessed the situation, and she could swear his eyebrows were raised to the absolute limit. He still decapitated the man as he immediately took the other brat in his arms, who had still not understood what was happening.

"Luffy, where is Laura?" Her dad asked anxiously, voice filled with fear. Laura felt a strange jolt through her heart. But that was impossible, she couldn't... Ah, no, she'd just tripped and fell forward, chest first. Now that made sense.

"Laura!" Her dad almost yelled, relief evident in his voice as he quickly picked her up. In less than a couple seconds, they were on the other side of the rather large ship, talking with some other weird dudes.

"I... I can't take care of them. I don't want them to see what happened to their mother." Her dad said, voice shaky. Yay, so he'd just leave them for dead? You rock, fake and shitty dad.

"Lord Dragon, what will you do?" The other man said, his eyes soft. Please just hand me off to an orphanage and never show yourself again thank you,

"I... I'll give them to Father. He might not be there most of the time, but at least they'll be safe." Yes! You're an amazing dad for not being here, thank you so much now go and hang yourself, Laura cheered inside, but her face remained stoic as always. Probably weird for a child, but eh, she'd seen weirder stuff, and she was sure these fellows had too.

Fingers crossed she wouldn't be accused of being a devil and burned at the stake.

And like that, the next day, both me and the shit-eater were handed off to a huge man with a weird dog costume. Is he a furry? she loved furries. They screamed so much when she fed them to her cute little wolves.

Alas, he wasn't a furry, but he was insane, violent, obsessive, and with an attention span rivaling that of the shit-eater. Laura just kinda faded into the background except when she needed food while the shit-eater took up all of the big guy's attention.

By the week's end, she was pretty sure the big guy forgot she even existed. That may have been because she hid away when he came and only ever asked for milk and sludge from the tall and thin guy that always accompanied the fat one. Huh. Talk about stereotypes.

As the ship they were on landed, she was met with sweet, sweet land. When the big man noticed her, he'd actually had the gall to look confused and ask her who she was. She'd just stared at him like he was stupid as the thin man coughed and reminded him she was, coincidentally, also his grand-daughter.

It was actually pretty funny looking at him being so ashamed. He'd roared in laughter, if not a bit awkwardly, and swung her up and carried her along with the shit-eater to the island which she'd only seen through the cabin's window.

There, they were handed off to random woman number 55, and then promptly abandoned. She liked this kind of parenting, keep the trend up, please.

The woman introduced herself as Makino. Well, more like spoke to us in baby-talk, as the shit-eater blabbered incoherent sentences back and she just stared at her with the trademark creepy eyes™. She didn't even flinch. What a strong woman.

She was put in a little crib, and for the next couple months, she did just about everything that babies did, which amounted to basically nothing. It wasn't fun.

Oh well. That's what she'd get for being caught in her previous life.