Project Kindergarten

I could always see the history of people, I guess you can say it runs in the family. It's not an ability I like having, every time I even touch someone, it's like I get a filmed biography of them, but not only the highlights, literally everything, but then a thousand times faster. It's help full, but you see a lot of things you don't want to see. But it makes me passive, I never judge people for their actions, because I seewhy they did it. And mostly, it's a good reason. From my mother's side I own these abilities. I only have this, but my aunt even had the ability to see parts of the future, and my grandfather, he could see deceased memories, communicating with the dead in other words. At later age, I started to develop those abilities, too, but I never really used them. My life's been a roller coaster of ups and downs. My mother died while giving birth to me, my dad couldn't handle that, so he ended up committing suicide. So I ended up with my grandparents, since my aunt already had 6 children of her own. It was nice, my grandmother was a good second-hand mother. My grandfather wasn't always home, but when he was, he showed me all the wonders of the world, like I said, it was nice. It was nice until my grandmother got killed, I was 6 then, my grandfather got obsessed with training me from that day. So simply put, I had a childhood, until I was 6. The "training" I mentioned wasn't body building or anything like that, no, no it was training with real weapons. Guns, daggers, even grenades. Christ, I know the name of every single weapon in existence. And I know how to work with them. So yeah, I had a short childhood, but I didn't have a "teenager"-hood at all. While normal girls were fantasizing over boys. I was hanging out with those boys, discussing what semi to use in a war zone. Needless to say, I did get bullied by the "glamour" girls, but after I gave them a bloody nose, they didn't do that anymore. This went on for a long period of time, until I turned 18. I came home, I still lived with my grandfather needless to say, and I saw a letter, explaining that my grandfather died in a car-accident. I never saw any of the remains, never saw an official letter about. So I'm 18, and suddenly own an old house, well, "own", like I said, never saw official papers. Not even about that. The last 6 years I was busy finishing my studies, and jumping from job to job. First I was a doctor, but that didn't really turn out for me, I tried being a sober companion, but, eh, didn't end well either, since I could see their life just by touching them. So now I work in a Secretary of an hospital. It works out for me, it's easy, well for me atleast. I don't really enjoy it, but it gave money. Everything went well, I had my life back together. Everything went well.. Until now. I'm heading out my house, to get some groceries, and suddenly all hell breaks loose. From the corner of my eyes I see how the thick, dark smoke of fire fills the streets. The loud bang of explosions surrounding the city. People run out of the shop, panicking. From the West tanks start invading the city, Soldiers start regrouping. At this moment I was the last one who still was inside. I didn't have the urge to run, I was more interested in what this huge garrison had to face. Nothing.. That's what it looked like. I was about to leave the building, until I saw it. A large person emerging from the smoke. Dressed in a crimson cloak, I didn't see his face because it was covered in a metal mask. The faint clinging of metal filled the street before it was again filled with deadly silence. The rest happened in an eye blink, guns got fired, grenades were thrown, the tanks were used. My eyes couldn't follow what was happening. I watched the shady figure just stand there, like the bullets didn't hurt, until he started moving himself. One flash, and the first row of soldiers was already down. A second flash, the tanks didn't function anymore. A third flash, and the street, that was once know for it's peace, turned into bloodbath of gore. No one survived, and the red-cloaked male stood in the middle of it, his robe perfectly matching the pool he was standing in. I kept watching, the bodies didn't scare me, but he, he did scare me. I let go of the door, slowly leaving the building as my eyes followed this person's every move. He knelt down, doing what looked like closing the eyes of the ones he just killed. "Old friends.." His voice.. It was.. Softer then I'd expected. I made a move, slowly coming closer and closer, he didn't seem to notice. His arms were filled with marks, scars, bruises and even worse. I narrowed my eyes as I saw a small stream of blood going down his elbow. "A-are you alright..?" No response. Knowing that it was a bad idea, I reached out for his shoulder. "Hey.." His eyes turned in a blink towards me. It felt like those ice-blue eyes were piercing my soul. They made me feel a cold shiver. "I-I can help. I mean, your arms looks like it's in bad shape.." He got up, and I felt how he towered above me. He was roughly a head taller than me, and I was by no means short. "I don't need help." I backed off, slightly frighted of what he'd do next. I should've just walked away, but my curiosity got ahold of me. "..." There was a long pause. "I-I'll just leave you to it.." "You're Dilwyn's granddaughter.." My eyes widened. "How do you kn-" I backed off even more when I saw that the wound from where the blood was coming completely disappeared. "W-who are you?" He turned around, walking off before disappearing in the mass of people like it was nothing. Even though I scared of him, and even more scared about the fact that he knew my grandfather's name.. Call it a gut feeling, but I felt that this, this wasn't the end of it yet. Weary of what just happened, I decided to go back home. That night was a restless one. I woke up to the sound of my tv. I didn't think much of it, maybe I just was so tired that I accidentally left it on. I went downstairs, half awake. "Good morning." "Mwa... Good mornin' to you too.." Wait a second... I live alone...