i am your narrator. you don't need to know who i am, you only need to know who She is. i'm plenty friendly and i don't bite, unlike Her, so don't be afraid to scoot a little closer, listen a little harder and stay awake a little longer.
now relax. take a seat, get comfortable. grab a blankie, if you need. plug your nightlight in. be careful, don't piss yourself, and stay still while i tell you a story of what your world holds.
the exact definition of human nature is "The distinguishing characteristics, including ways of thinking, feeling and acting, which humans tend to have naturally, independently of the influence of culture,". fancy, isn't it? here, i'll simplify it for you.
human nature is the way people think, or feel, or act. it cannot be taught to other creatures, nor can it be attained by creatures who lack those skills.
and this, my dear reader, is a story about human beings who quite plainly lack human nature.
she operated by the letters - sometimes L, sometimes X, sometimes R, whatever she felt like at that time. and she was cocky, god forbid. her brilliance went unmatched through america, and some speculated that had she used her gifts for good, she would have changed history.
as if she hadn't already.
but i did not come all this way to tell you about how arrogant she was, or how cruel she was, or how utterly brilliant she was.
i came to warn you.
there are more like her. hiding in the shadows, just waiting for their turn to take center stage. feeding, like leeches, off others. slowly, subtly, draining the life out of certain beings.
getting anxious, are we? i'm getting there soon enough.
X, as i will refer to her, did not have some tragic backstory as to why she became so incredibly evil, nor did she have an excuse as to why she turned into the criminal she was. some say she was born like that, some say it was how her parents raised her.
i say it was a much more calculated effort than that.
she wanted to feel, she really did. she wanted that gift of human nature more than she wanted anything in her entire life, so she went to enormous lengths to see if she had it. she was trying for guilt, or remorse, or even sadness. but none of those emotions revealed themselves to her ordinarily, so she did what she did best.
no one knows for certain how she kills them, but we know for certain one thing.
the only thing scarier than a murderer with a gun pointed at your head is a murderer smiling at you and truly believing they are a hero.