Kenzie: The Rejected Orphan

Kenzie was a 30-year-old orphan, that was what she was and all she ever knew. She was all alone and had always been all alone. She was raised in the system never knowing who she was or where she came from and up until the age of thirteen she was only known as Agent 1. Her whole life she trained to be an unstoppable killing machine. Her job was to police the supernatural. Being a female helped Kenzie with her role because nobody was intimidated by the small little girl. Girl isn't the right description because, even small, she was a fully realized woman with all the right curves in all the right places. She was fun-sized. However, that's at least how she joked about herself. She didn't even reach five feet. She was actually only 4" 10" and weighed all of 100 pounds, maybe! Her hair, which was usually pulled back and braided, was black and had highlights of purple which would cost so much from a salon. Fortunately, it came natural to her. She was a tribade after all, she embodied a wolf soul, a dragon soul and could wield Fae magic. She was just returning from a hard day. She had orders to take out a vampire coven. They had disregarded laws when it came to taking human slaves for blood. The sentence was death. They could take humans if they were contracted and knew what they were signing up for. If the humans didn't give their consent, it meant a death sentence for the vampire and this was an entire coven. It didn't take her long to take them down, but even knowing they were doing something bad, it felt like every kill took another piece of her soul. She feared soon she would just be a machine with no humanity left, just to blindly follow the orders of the people who made her the way she is. She couldn't allow it, she wanted to keep her humanity and actually had dreams that she wouldn't always be doing what she was doing. At 30, though, she assumed her life would always be solitary and the way it was now, but she tried to keep hope alive. Hope for something else, bigger and better and with meaning. Her home was literally two rooms, a bathroom and her living area. Her bathroom had the basics, a shower stall, toilet and sink and a mirror that was so old it had glazed over and hard to see in. She didn't mind though what she had to look at, she never wore makeup and her hair was always back and braided. Even her wardrobe was predetermined by her superiors. She had black, dark blue, and dark purple and all the outfits were made for her tactical efforts. Kenzie jumped in the shower to wash away the death that still clung to her skin, washing away the murderous actions she had just committed. She kept telling herself it was for the greater good. They were bad people. She was only doing what she had to do! The steamy hot water washed away all the blood and eased her sore muscles. Once clean, she took stock of any injuries and was happy to find that there weren't any. She wrapped herself in a towel and made her way to her living area. Her living area consisted of a twin-sized bed, a two-seater love seat, a desk, a mini fridge and a small cook-top and sink. Kenzie sat at her desk firing up the computer so she could file her report of today assignment. For as long as she could remember, this is how her life had always been. When she was younger, she would train all day and then return to her home. Her training consisted of all ways to fight, as well as any knowledge associated with the supernatural. During training, she would train physically for 12 hours, and then she would do book work for 8 hours. It left her four hours to shower and sleep. She started training as soon as she could learn to walk. The book work didn't come til she was about 5, so for three years she physically trained for 20 hours a day. Her superiors felt 4 hours was plenty to rest and reset. She was also trained, if you can call it that, as to what could happen if she was to be captured by an enemy. This basically meant she was tortured for however long they felt like it. If she showed no emotion or pain, they would torture her less. If she showed emotion or screamed in pain, the torture would go longer and seem endless. Her back was covered in scars, they were only on her back because they knew one day she would need to use her femininity, and they wanted to capitalize on it, so during their torture they only left scars that could be hidden. Once she hit 14, and they considered her trained, they sent her on assignments. She would wake in the morning to receive her assignment and would only return home once said assignment was completed. Her life was so solitary and the only social interaction she had was if she needed to investigate and would then have to talk to victims or suspects. She had never actually made any personal connections. At one time, she was really close with her handler. His name was Nathaniel, and he was the one who took care of her when she literally wasn't old enough to do so on her own. He was always nice to her from what she could remember and tried to show her a small amount of love. He would share life advice with her and remind her about her mate. The magical man who was supposed to love her no matter what and take care of her and keep her safe. However, once she turned 14, they took him away from her, and now she was all alone. It had been 16 years since she saw him, the one she considered her father. Kenzie tried to remember what he looked like, but her memories were hazy. She would always remember his advice and care, even if she couldn't remember his features. He gave her a small sliver of hope, and that hope was all she had about the stories and advice from some man that at one time took care of her. Why did she have to be so alone? She hated her life and the things she had to do. Was she even a person anymore? If her wolf hadn't chosen a name for her, she would simply be Agent 1. Her wolf's name was Luna and Lola and her dragon spirit were the only friends Kenzi had. They are the ones keeping her alive. Without them, she wouldn't have anyone, so she wouldn't need to be around or even exist. She finished submitting her report somehow. She wasn't even sure most of the time how she had done things when her mind was in a drift. Her body had just done what they had trained her to do, and it seemed her mind would just drift and wish and hope and mourn. She really should get something to eat, but she still had the stench of vampire in her nostrils that didn't really help with her appetite. She decided a meal replacement shake would be. That is what she mostly lived off of. It provided the nutrients her body needed and all she needed was to add water! Shake drank and report submitted, now it was time to lay down and pretend to sleep and hopefully manage at least a few hours before she had to once again check for her assignment and repeat the day she just had. Will this be how her life will remain until she finally comes across an assignment that will land her in death?