PROLOGUE

Tonight, I get my first taste of retribution. I’ve spent six months living with my new foster parents. Six joyful months of being caned every weekend and told how much of a sinner I am.

It’s not my fault I can’t give them what they want. Although everyone likes to tell me that it is.

For sixteen years, I’ve been treated like a monster, a freak, someone to avoid.

Eugene and Moira Fitz seem like the most loving, devout Christian’s that just want to give a little back by taking in a wayward teen.

Only I know just how deep that devotion to their God goes.

To them, I was just a lost cause, someone to convert to their way of thinking. A project to show off in church every weekend once they got me out of my grungy clothes and into a neat little button up.

The first time they tried to change me, I told them to go to hell. Eugene smacked me so hard across the face that I smashed into the coffee table. That was when they discovered my little secret. I’m not sure why they didn’t already know, I guess the orphanage wanted rid of me so they thought they’d keep that information to themselves.

I stood there, blood dripping from a cut on my cheek and I didn’t shed a single tear. Even the disgusted, fearful look in their eyes didn’t hurt.

By that point I was long past caring.

After being numb on the outside for so long it seemed to have worked its way under my skin, like a rot taking over my body.

After that incident, I was told to pray to make up for my sin of not being able to feel what God gave me. If I did it long and hard enough then God would forgive me and grant me the gift of pain back.

Some fucked up God to give pain out so freely, if you ask me.

Seems like he missed me off the list that day he was dishing it out, though.

When that didn’t work they started beating God”s will into me themselves.

Of course it didn’t work. Nothing ever does.

I’ve done everything I could think of to make myself normal. I’ve cut myself, slammed my hand in doors, even tore my own hair out but it’s like I’m completely numb. Just a shell of a person.

What fun is being normal anyway? It’s so much more fun being able to enjoy the chaos that a pain free life gives me.

The smell of smoke distracts me from my thoughts.

Heat engulfs me as fire starts to spread up the walls, catching onto the curtains and turning the room into an inferno that Satan himself would be proud of. “How does God”s grace feel now?” I ask from the foot of the bed. The roar of flames and the screams of my foster parents are music to my ears. A beautiful crescendo to end this disgustingly tragic part of my life.

As I came up with the plan to get rid of the monsters that spent so long torturing me, warping my brain until it finally snapped like the cane that now lies at my feet, I considered ending my life here too.

But why should I when there is so much more fun to be had?

I’ve never killed before, didn’t know I had the stomach for it but here I am watching as flames eat away at the couple tied to the bed in front of me. All I can think is what else can I do?

Images of my past tormentors screaming as I end their pathetic lives with my own hands flash through my mind.

My cock twitches. Huh, that’s weird.

I’ve been standing here for too long already, I know the heat is getting too close and the smoke is starting to sit heavy in my lungs. It’s difficult to tear my eyes away from this fucked up scene though.

Only when sirens start blaring outside do I finally make myself move.

The rest of the house is starting to light up and I move quickly to the front door before I’m trapped inside.

I take a moment before I open the door, preparing myself for the next part of tonight’s show. I’ve already given myself a black eye and have the story ready in my head to tell the cops. Someone broke in, knocked me out then tied up my foster parents. I woke up as he was raiding their bedroom and I tried to fight him but the cigarette he was smoking fell out of his mouth and the curtains caught fire. He ran and I tried to stop him but he got away and it was too late for me to save anyone.

Heat licks at my back and when I look over my shoulder I see the bright orange glow of fire right in my face.

“Shit,” I hiss as I tear my jacket off but it’s too late.

The fire has already burnt through to my skin.

I can smell my flesh burning and it’s an odd sensation to know my body is being destroyed without being even the slightest bit aware of it. I’ve always wondered if there would ever be a pain I could actually feel but that tiny bit of hope is now burning to nothing along with this house and the rest of my past.

At least now I can leave it behind in the ashes.