Mortimus looked at his partner in, not love, but rather in the creation of their masterpiece. “He is magnificent. Never before have I felt such palpable power exuding from the very pores of a mere newborn.” A dark smile full of malice covered his dark handsome face.

Mortimus was almost ethereal in appearance; he was one of those people that could be either 25 or 50. He had a long narrow face, with hollowed out cheeks, protruding cheekbones, eyes blacker than the blackest night, long black hair that fell to his waist, and wrinkles in just the right spots to accentuate his good looks all across his face; he was almost unnaturally good looking to the point he looked inhuman. Not to mention the aura of death that enshrouded his every step.

Maluma turned to him with a slight cold smile, “Indeed. I read his fatelines. He has the potential to be the darkest of souls. He will be our greatest warrior and, with him, we will finally throw down the light Gods from their undeserved position and claim our rightful place as rulers.”

Maluma could only be described as a goddess in appearance, with big eerie eyes that shifted in color between electric blue, earthly brown, forest green, fire red, and a grey that appeared to be a mist of souls, massive protruding cheekbones, long silver hair, and a perpetual evil cold smile upon her face. She summed up the look of cold goddess

After this statement they looked at each other with cold grins; each knew the other would betray them as soon as they ascended as rulers. The dark does not abide competition nor compromise.

6 years later

I killed a girl today. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. She didn’t call me names, or take my stuff, or do anything at all. My parents brought her in front of me, tied up and gagged. I had never seen anyone except my parents, and the people they had killed, so I had no way to gauge the age of another, but later I would know she was no more than 10.

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My father handed me a dagger composed of not metal, but darkness. Looking into the blade gave one the feeling of never ending pain and darkness just below the surface.

My father smiled, for once not an evil smile, but a brilliant gleaming smile at me. This would be a stepping stone in my molding into his perfect little soldier. “Kill her. She is nothing to you, to anyone. She is an insignificant waste that will never amount to anything. Nothing will change from her death. You need to understand your place in the world, and you need to understand their place in the world. She is nothing but an ant to us, to you. Kill her and ascend to your rightful place in this world.”

I listened to my fathers words intently. I smiled at him after he finished; he’s my father of course he’s right.

I approached her with the dagger in hand, smiling the entire time. I walked all the way up to her and cocked back my arm preparing to plunge it into her just as my father had taught me. It was then that I felt something new, something... Bad. I really looked at the small elven girl in front of me for the first time, and I didn’t like what I saw.

I saw primal fear. The kind of fear that only comes about when someone knows they’re about to die, and doesn’t accept it. I could feel the fear radiating from her, and a part of me loved it; even at a young age I almost reveled in the feeling of absolute power over another. The feeling of knowing someone else’s life was in your hands, and only I could decide whether they lived or died.

Another part of me was disgusted at the fear I felt, all directed towards me. She was terrified of me to the point of almost having a heart attack and I realized I didn’t want to do this. She has done nothing to me she didn’t deserve to die just because my father said she was insignificant

I turned and looked back at my father, not with the usual smile and pride that he was my father, but now with disgust. “No. I’m not going to kill her; she hasn’t done anything to me why does she deserve to die.”

As I said this my fathers face went from a brilliant gleaming smile to something I had never seen from him before, something evil. For a split second I saw the mask he always wore in front of me break, and I felt terror for the first time. I had seen him kill in cold blood. I had seen him devour a soul, even if I didn’t know what he was doing; I knew it was something horrible. But never had I seen such rage and insanity. Never had I seen the monster that laid behind the thin veneer of pleasantness he wore.

As quickly as it had appeared it was gone, but I had seen it and I would remember it for the rest of my life.

My fathers face turned back to that same gleaming smile he had worn before, but now I saw through it. “Here’s what we’ll do,” my father spoke in a calm and pleasant voice. “For every second that you don’t kill her she will feel the worst kind of agony imaginable.” With that said he walked forward and touched his fingers to the top of her head. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head in pure agony, and even with the gag you could hear her sobs.

It was at this moment I could feel her fear disappear, and the longing for death she now felt.

Taking a deep breath I stepped forward and thrust the dagger into her eyes socket and into her brain.

That was the story of how I took my first life.