Ever since I was young, I had known Dr Lane as my father. He raised me, provided shelter and food for me. He also taught me how to read and write and martial arts.
In return, he expected me to do errands for him, which I did diligently.
He even allowed me to use his last name!
It was on a rainy evening when he saw me. I was weak and drenched, lying weak in a dark alley. Too hungry and feeble to seek shelter from the elements.
The doctor, a tall lanky man with blue eyes and curly blond hair, took me into his sleek black sedan and gave me a bottle of water.
He them wrapped me in his black coat and drove me to his home.
He lives in a town house in house in a suburb. Below the house is his secret lab where he did all kind of experiments.
He took me into the lab and injected me with medicine and explained that it was revitalising medicine that was meant to bring back my energy and strength.
Then he told me to obey him and he would continue giving me basic necessities.
That was five years ago and I am seventeen years old now. The doctor always makes me recite that fateful day so as to never forget where I came from.
My daily routine included; waking up, training, drinking porridge, taking the pills, going on an errand for de Lane and sleeping.
He would occasionally let me draw, which I enjoyed very much.
The errands I went on for Dr Lane ranged from buying groceries to acquiring customers for Dr Lane.